Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father

whisky?”
    “No, the beer was enough. Come here and look at the university grounds. They’re
    beautiful.”
    Barely glancing at the screen, Angel sat beside him cross-legged. “What if I don’t
    get in, Daddy?”
    “Stop being so negative.”
    Angel suddenly smiled. “Daddy, can I get a tattoo?”
    “I thought we’d been through this. The answer is no.”
    “But you would look gorgeous with tattoos.” The boy was deliberately ignoring
    looking at the Web site, and Kael closed the laptop and put it on the bedside table.
    “Something really sexy on your back, and maybe a sleeve.”
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    “A sleeve?” Kael asked.
    “Yeah, you know, one of those really cool ones that covers the whole arm.”
    He must be getting old or maybe he had always been old-fashioned, but tattoos
    had never been on his agenda. He wasn’t even sure he liked them. “No easily
    identifiable marks in my job.”
    “Daddy, your whole body is an easily identifiable mark,” Angel said. “You’re six
    feet five and built like a superhero.”
    Lying back with his hands behind his head, Kael said, “That’s me. A superhero.”
    “You’re my hero, Daddy,” Angel said softly.
    When Angel said things like that, it always made his throat constrict for a moment
    as the weight of his responsibility settled over him. Angel was his, body and soul. He
    had to ensure that he was a good role model and that he expected the best of Angel
    without being unreasonable. There was no point in setting goals for his boy that were
    impossible to attain, but Cambridge was certainly possible for him. “No tattoos.”
    “Yes, Sir. But I always wanted ‘Daddy’s Boy’ tattooed on my tailbone.”
    “What about just ‘slave’?” Kael asked.
    “That would be cool too.”
    “I can put slave on your arse.”
    Scrunching his face in question, Angel asked, “You mean you can tattoo it?”
    “Come on, boy. I’ll show you.”
    Tired but wanting to make his boy happy, Kael rose, and Angel followed him into
    the dungeon. Usually he locked the dungeon door and put the key out of Angel’s reach.
    The fact that he would stop if Angel asked him to was irrelevant. Locking the door
    added to the solemnity and atmosphere of the dungeon. But today it didn’t matter. Kael
    strode over to the wall where the paddles and whips were hung and the various
    instruments of pleasure were laid out.
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    The new paddle had arrived a couple of weeks ago and was still in the box. Angel
    came up beside him, excited when he saw a package from Kael’s favorite mail-order
    shop. “Did you get something new, Daddy? How come you didn’t tell me?”
    “I like to surprise you.” With a flourish, Kael lifted the instrument from the box.
    “It’s an impression paddle.” With a careful movement, Kael slapped the paddle onto his
    palm. “Isn’t it beautiful? Thick black leather. Look at the stitching.”
    “I’m looking at the word.” SLAVE was cut into the paddle. Angel ran his
    fingertips over the open letters.
    “When I beat you with this, the word ‘slave’ will be imprinted onto your arse. The
    areas around the word will bruise, leaving a clear impression behind it.”
    Something halfway between a smile and a grin lit Angel’s face. “Holy sexy ass.
    That is so hot!”
    “It’s going to hurt though. The only way to get a really clear imprint is to strike
    once very hard, like striking a coin. So that means no warm-up because all that will do
    is bruise the surrounding area and the word won’t be clear.” He looked into Angel’s
    sparkling gray eyes. “Are you up for it?”
    All on a breath, Angel said excitedly, “Yes, Sir, Daddy!”
    “It really will hurt like hell,” Kael warned him again.
    “I can take it, Daddy.”
    “Right then. Get your undies off, boy.”
    With a grin splitting his face, Angel took off his red Ergos. At the same time, Kael
    removed his underwear and took a condom from the box on the shelf. There was no
    question that swatting Angel’s arse would excite him, so he wanted to be prepared.
    “Where shall we do this?” Hands on hips, he looked around the dungeon,
    deciding on the best position for the flogging.
    “What about the horse, Daddy?” It was a vaulting horse, and they had used it
    many a time for a flogging or paddling. Angel took a couple of running steps and
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    vaulted perfectly over it, then looked at