Page 213 of Daddy's Pride

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Page 213 of Daddy's Pride

“More than ready.” Josiah surrendered himself to the experience, to the man behind him who knew how to draw out the deepest responses from his body.

The first strike landed with a controlled thud, and Josiah gasped. It always took him a minute to settle into it, waiting for the pain to become something else. Heat bloomed across his skin, radiating outward in ripples of shock and pleasure that crawled up his spine and ignited nerves waiting to be set afire.

“Good?” Daddy asked.

“Perfect, Daddy.”

Each successive slap proved Daddy’s skill at creating pain and ecstasy, a symphony composed on Josiah’s flesh. His body jerked with each impact, but he felt no urge to flee from the sensation, only to chase it, to embrace it.

Daddy’s pace was measured, a deliberate cadence that allowed Josiah to savor the sting that melted into a deep, throbbing warmth. His breath hitched as arousal coiled tight within him, his skin sensitive to every touch, every movement, every brush from the man above him.

“Look at you, taking this so beautifully,” Daddy said, and Josiah reveled in the smile in his words, the pride.

“Want to see your marks on me,” Josiah said between pants. The thought of carrying Daddy’s handprints, a visible sign of their connection and intimacy, sent a thrill dancing down his over-sensitized nerves.

“Later, my beautiful boy,” Daddy said. A surge of warmth sparked through Josiah that rivaled the heat from the spanks. “You’ll have them, every last one.”

Josiah craved that, craved the sight of Daddy’s strength marked upon him, a reminder of the trust and surrender that framed their life together. Each slap was a stroke of affirmation, of care, of love. Josiah basked in the sensations, lost in the moment, floating in the bliss Daddy crafted with such care, in the sweet ache that had settled under his skin.

The transition came naturally, as it always did. The room was charged with their shared electricity, the air thick with the scent of musk and their ragged breaths. Josiah’s body hummed with need, each cell crying out for more, for the consummation of their dance of power and surrender. “Daddy,” he pleaded. “Daddy, I need you.”

A reward spanking was the one time when Daddy wanted him to beg… and when he was willing to let Josiah set the pace.

“Need you too, baby boy.”

Daddy carried him to the bed, where he carefully put Josiah on his back, his ass on the edge. Daddy loomed over him, the promise in his eyes dark and intoxicating. He positioned himself between Josiah’s thighs, and Josiah breathed in sharply at the mere suggestion of what was to come.

“Look at me,” Brody commanded, his voice gravelly with want as he guided himself to Josiah’s entrance. Josiah obeyed, locking eyes with Brody, drowning in the ocean of emotion he found there. With slow motions, Brody entered him, inch by torturous inch, stretching Josiah, filling him until he thought he might break apart from the sheer intensity.

“Daddy,” he moaned, arching into the exquisite invasion, his hands clawing at the sheets.

“You feel so good, baby boy. You’ve been such a good boy for Daddy today. And now Daddy will fuck you until you see the stars and then fill you up with his load.”

“Please, Daddy…”

What was he begging for? Daddy would know. Daddy always knew.

His body shook as Daddy set a rhythm that was both relentless and reverent, snapping his hips forward in a cadence that drove Josiah to the brink, only to pull him back, denying release. He knew better than to grab himself and allow himself to come. Besides, loath as he was to admit it, his orgasm was a thousand times more intense after Daddy had edged him. That didn’t stop him from begging, though.

“Please.” Josiah teetered on the edge of ecstasy, his world narrowing to the point of connection where Daddy’s body claimed his own. But Daddy was unyielding, a masterful conductor directing the symphony of their passion.

“Not yet,” Daddy growled, his strokes deepening, each thrust a brand that seared into Josiah’s flesh. “You’ll come when I do, not a second before.”

Josiah was lost, swept up in the tide of Daddy’s control, every nerve alight with the friction of their joining. The denial was excruciating, a delicious torment that had him spiraling toward madness. He was at Daddy’s mercy, and there was no place he’d rather be.

“Daddy…” he pleaded again, the words torn from him in a guttural whisper.

“Shh… I’ve got you.” Daddy’s movements became more erratic, a sign of his nearing climax.

And when Daddy finally allowed himself to shatter and the hot rush flowed inside him, the floodgates opened and his ecstasy crashed through him. His world quaked from the wave of pleasure surging through him like a maelstrom, wild and relentless. His body convulsed, electric currents of delight sparking from the depths of his being to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Daddy!” he cried out. Every fiber of his existence lit up like the auroras in Alaska, dancing across the night sky.

For long moments, they remained locked together, Josiah’s heart thundering against Daddy’s chest, the sound more overwhelming than their ragged breaths. As the ripples of pleasure subsided, the afterglow wrapping around them like a warm blanket, Josiah’s mind floated gently back into his body.

“Baby boy,” Daddy murmured, his breath hot against Josiah’s ear. “Look at me.”

With effort, Josiah lifted his heavy eyelids and gazed into Daddy’s eyes, which shimmered with an emotion so profound it took his breath away. The vulnerability was a stark contrast to the dominance Daddy wielded so expertly.




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