Page 183 of Daddy's Pride
“Yes, Sir.”
Brody’s gaze lingered on the curve of Josiah’s jaw, not a hint of stubble, the softness of his skin inviting Brody’s touch. The cacophony of the outside world seemed to mute, leaving only thrumming anticipation vibrating through Brody.
He took a deep breath. “Let’s find somewhere more private.”
Chapter Three
The dim lighting of the private playroom cast shadows across Brody’s face, turning his features into a tantalizing mystery. He was so handsome, with a square jawline, moss-green eyes, and messy dark hair with some silver sprinkled in, but even more than that, he exuded a dominance that drew Josiah in. Not in a strict, almost aggressive way, like Milan. More like Asher, except with an underlying sexual tension. He invited submission and trust, and Josiah was eager to accept.
How old was he? Josiah sucked at guessing, but Brody had to be in his forties. Maybe even late forties? Not that it mattered. Like Denali, Josiah had always been attracted to older men. And Brody was so sexy, his bare chest covered with soft dark hair leading to the waistband of his black leather pants. He wasn’t ripped or anything, but he was strong and clearly took good care of himself.
Brody watched him with a hint of a smile. “You good?”
“Yes, Sir.” Josiah stood, awaiting further instruction.
“Undress for me. Leave the harness on.”
A shiver rolled down his spine that had little to do with the cool air against his flushed skin. Josiah’s fingers trembled as he fumbled with the zipper of his right boot. He finally managed to drag it down and remove the boot and sock. He carelessly dropped them on the floor.
“Tsk, tsk. Neatly, please,” Brody said, the weight of authority in his tone wrapping around Josiah like a heavy, luxurious cloak.
Oh, okay. Josiah obediently placed his boots side by side and put a sock in each one. His hands were a little steadier when he carefully pulled the zipper on his shorts. They were so tight he had to wriggle himself out of them.
Brody made a low sound, and when Josiah looked up, the Dom was staring at him with hungry eyes and an intensity that felt like a physical touch—a caress that held more than just evaluation. Josiah slowed his movements, making sure to present his ass and bend over a little deeper than necessary. His reward was a low, sexy chuckle. “You’re a tease, aren’t you, boy? I appreciate the view, though.”
Josiah folded his pants and put them on a bench, followed by his underwear, which was nothing more than a G-string, only needed to prevent his sensitive parts from rubbing against the leather or—far worse—getting caught in the zipper.
There he stood, bared to the soul not just by his nakedness but also by the openness with which he presented himself to Brody’s discerning gaze.
“Good boy,” Brody said, and the praise struck a chord within Josiah, resonating deep in his chest. It was the affirmation he craved, the acceptance that perhaps he wasn’t too demanding or needy after all. His insecurities, those vicious little beasts, retreated into the shadows, their voices momentarily silenced by Brody’s approving tone.
“Do you know how to kneel and present yourself to your Dom?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then do so, please.”
The words were simple, but the weight behind them was colossal. This was what he had practiced for until his knees hurt. Josiah sank to his knees in a fluid movement, clasped his hands behind his back, and bent his head as low as possible. Josiah inhaled sharply, letting his arms fall naturally back to rest on his heels, chest thrust forward. The air felt heavy against his bare skin, every hair standing on end, every nerve ending alight with electric anticipation.
Brody walked around him, studying him. “Beautiful posture. Well done, Josiah.”
His name had never sounded like that. So warm, almost like a compliment in itself. He stayed where he was, not wanting to fuck this up.
Something about this moment—the way the background noise faded until there was nothing but Brody’s commanding presence—made Josiah feel as if every fiber of his being was finely tuned to the man before him. The anticipation sizzled through him, igniting his desire and curiosity.
Brody sat on a padded bench with a backrest and patted his knee. “Come here, boy. Stand between my legs and let me have a good look at you.”
Getting back up wasn’t quite as graceful as kneeling, but Josiah managed. He forced himself to take some deep breaths as he closed the distance between them and stood in front of Brody.
Brody ghosted his fingers over Josiah’s shoulder, down his arm, and lingered on the inside of his wrist, where his pulse beat like a frantic drum. The touch was a whisper, but it roared in Josiah’s ears, setting his flesh ablaze with a yearning that screamed for more, deeper, harder.
Brody’s hands ventured farther down Josiah’s upper body, skimming across his clavicles, then lower, teasing his nipples until they peaked under the brush of air. Josiah bit his lip, repressing the whimper that fought to break free. Despite the light touch, the sensation was maddening, an intense pleasure that threaded its way down his abdomen, coiling tightly within him.
“Beautiful.”
The single word was a balm to Josiah’s insecurities, wrapping around him like a warm embrace.
“Thank you, Sir,” Josiah said, his voice laced with gratitude and the simmering need to serve, to please, to give himself over to whatever Brody demanded of him.