He nodded, still flustered. “I’m not even sure why… I mean, at home, the men and women live separately, even if they are married. I don’t know… Maybe… Well, when I was really, really little, Father read me stories, and the families all lived together in one house, so maybe that’s why…? You know… the—the parents… I’m sorry, Daddy. My thoughts have been all jumbled up recently…”
I gritted my teeth at the mention of Malachi. I placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling it tense then slowly release under my touch.
“This is your home now, cherub, remember?”
“Yes, Daddy,” he said quietly. “I know.”
I squeezed his shoulder gently, my eyes softening. He glanced up at me, searching my face. For what, I didn’t know.
“How about a bath, hm? Then I’ll make us something for lunch.”
“I haven’t had a bath in so long,” Elior answered softly. “Father had one in his house but… well, you know.”
Again with Malachi. I swallowed my frustration, instead smiling at him and leading him to the bathroom.
“Here you can take as many baths as you want, baby boy.”
A small smile tipped his rosy lips up as he followed me without complaint.
Our bathroom wasn’t huge by any standards, but it was nice and recently remodeled. It was undoubtedly leagues better than Elior’s old bathroom in the chapel.
I sat on the edge of the tub and turned the faucet, testing the temperature with the back of my hand. Once it was warm, I plugged the drain and let the basin fill, turning to look atElior, who stood in the center of the room, his arms wrapped around his middle as he looked around.
“Do you need help with your clothes?” I asked, amused when he jumped a little at my voice, his cheeks flushed.
“Oh,” he mumbled, looking down at himself. “No, I uh… I got it.”
I smirked. “Well, come on then. Take them off.”
His head jerked up, mouth slightly open in surprise. “N-now?” he stammered. “With you here?”
“Mhm. So be good, yeah? Strip for me.”
“But—”
“Elior, you can’t get in the bath with your clothes still on. I just want to help you get clean, baby. That’s all.”
He bit his lip, eyes flicking up to mine—nervous and as shy as ever—but gripped the hem of his hoodie and lifted it, peeling it up over his head, revealing pale skin stretched tight over ribs that poked out more than they should.
“Good boy,” I praised. “Now the rest.”
He nodded sharply, taking a second to carefully fold the hoodie and place it on the counter.
So cute.
He averted his eyes as he tugged his sweats down, bending as they slid over his hips and past his thighs. I watched him greedily as his fingers quivered at the waistband of his underwear, then slowly eased the fabric down. His cock finally came into view, soft and nestled against his balls and a small patch of blonde. He shivered, whether from the air or my gaze, I didn’t care. Naked now, he stood there trembling, his hands fluttering in front of his crotch in an attempt to cover himself.
“None of that,” I growled softly, standing and pulling his hands away. “Let me see you. Let me see what’s mine.”
His breath hitched, face burning red, but he dropped his arms. God, he was beautiful—blonde hair tousled, angelic cerulean eyes wide. His light pink nipples pebbled from the cool air, making my mouth water.
“Alright, in you go,” I said, guiding him into the tub with a hand on his lower back. He stepped in cautiously, then sank into the water with a small sigh. The water level rose around him, lapping at his chest, and he hugged his knees a bit, looking so vulnerable. I rolled up my sleeves, kneeling beside the tub, and grabbed the washcloth and soap.
I lathered the cloth, then took his arm and lifted it gently to wash from shoulder to wrist. “Relax, cherub,” I murmured, voice calm. “Just let me take care of you.”
He nodded, eyes timidly watching as I moved to the other arm, then his back, cloth gliding over skin that needed this—neededme. I washed his hair next, fingers massaging shampoo into the blonde strands. He leaned into my touch, tension easing from his muscles.
But I couldn’t keep it innocent forever. Not with him here, bare and warm in front of me. As I soaped the cloth again, I let my hand drift lower, washing his chest with broad strokes. My thumb brushed a nipple, deliberate now, circling it until it hardened.
