I nod, a shy smile creeping up.
"Yes, Daddy."
The wordDaddystill feels new, thrilling, like a secret only we share, although in the right context more and more people know that’s what we are together.
Daddy leads me to the bathroom—a luxurious setup with marble tiles, a massive claw-foot tub that could fit us both easily, and those fancy fixtures that make everything feel posh and fancy.
While Olivier runs the water, steam rising in curls, I strip down, folding my clothes neatly on the counter. Lexi sits on the edge, watching with his bright dragon eyes.
The tub fills fast, bubbles foaming up from the lavender-scented soap Daddy adds—big, fluffy clouds that promise fun. He tosses in a couple of rubber ducks, their yellow bodies bobbing happily, and then, with a grin, adds two army figures in scuba gear.
"For adventure," Olivier says, winking. “Plus they’ve got hot bodies!”
“Hehe! Daddy!” I laugh.
I giggle some more and slip into the hot water first. It envelops me like a hug, soothing the faint sting from earlier. Olivier undresses next—methodical, revealing that compact, strong body I can't get enough of—and slides in behind me, pulling me back against his chest. His arms wrap around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.
"Comfy?"
"Perfect," I murmur, leaning into him. The bubbles tickle my skin, and I grab a rubber duck, making it swim toward the army guys. "Look, Daddy. The ducks are invading the scuba base!" I quack dramatically, pushing the duck forward.
Olivier chuckles, deep and rumbling against my back, grabbing one of the army figures.
"Not on my watch!" Olivier bellows.
He makes the figure dive under the bubbles, popping up to attack the duck. We play like that, splashing lightly, voices pitching into silly accents—Olivier’s a gruff commander, mine a quacky rebel. It's ridiculous, pure fun, and I love seeing him like this: carefree, playful, the stern chef mask slipped away.
No restaurant stress, no relationship decisions looming—just us, in a bubble-filled world.
The warm water works its magic, easing every knot from the site's hard labor that has built up over the week. As much as I’ve been enjoying it, it’s been hard work and it kind of feels like that is catching up with me now. My eyelids droop a bit, the lavender scent lulling me. Olivier notices, his hands pausing their gentle massage on my shoulders.
"Getting sleepy, darling boy?"
I yawn, nodding. "A little. But the bath's too cozy."
Olivier kisses my temple. "Bedtime, then. Early night for you. I want you rested ahead of the new week. You’ll thank me come Monday morning."
“I know, Daddy,” I say, my eyes heavy and my heart fluttering.
I smile, warmth spreading through me—not just from the water. An early night sounds perfect, especially if it means more cuddles.
Olivier stands first, water cascading off him, and offers a hand to pull me up. The cool air hits, making me shiver, but he's quick with the fluffy towel—big, white, and soft as clouds.
"Let Daddy dry you," Olivier says, starting at my hair, tousling it gently.
I giggle as he works down, the towel tickling my neck, my chest. His touch is careful, thorough—patting my arms, my back, thenlower.
When he reaches my waist, wrapping the towel around and rubbing firmly, a spark ignites. The friction, his proximity—naked, focused on me—stirs something. I feel myself hardening, a definite bulge forming under the towel.
"Daddy..." I whisper, blushing. “Whoops…”
Olivier looks down and notices, his eyes darkening with amusement and heat. But he shakes his head, voice firm.
"Nope. What you need is rest, boy. Early night. No distractions." He dries my legs efficiently, ignoring the arousal, though his fingers linger just a second too long on my thighs, making me squirm. "Be good."
I pout playfully but nod.
"Okay, Daddy," I say.
