I don’t want to be naughty. Deep down, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a good girl. And even after all he’s put me through, the choices he’s stripped from me, the thought of being truly bad makes my stomach hurt so badly I feel like I might be sick.
Placing a finger under my chin, Donovan gently nudges my head up. Even through my tears, I can see how disappointed he really is in my behavior, and I nearly give into the urge to apologize, to tell him I’ll be a good girl forever, and to beg to wear my pretty green dress.
“Despite what you may think of me, Camilla, I don’t want to spend all my time punishing you. I will, if you force my hand. But I really do want you to be happy here with me. So if you can be a good girl for me through breakfast, you can change back into your pretty dress after you’ve eaten. But if you continue to fight me and defy me, you will wear your naughty girl shirt all day. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” I manage to whisper, my voice strained from the tears I’m holding at bay.
He smiles, the gesture looking so out of place on his face I have to blink to make sure I’m actually seeing it correctly. “That’s my good girl. Come. I heard a rumor that Chef Madeline made waffles just for a certain Little girl this morning.”
“Waffles? Really?” Excitement chases away some of the yucky feelings and I bounce in place on the changing table. “I love waffles!”
Laughing, he plucks me off the table and settles me on his hip. “I know. Waffles with too much syrup and too much whipped cream are your favorite food.”
The fact that he knows my favorite color, my favorite food, seemingly my favoriteeverythingputs a significant chip in the walls I’m desperately trying to keep erected around my heart.Knowing he’s paid such close attention to me, that he’s noticed things nobody before him has bothered to notice…
I don’t want it to make me happy. I don’t want to feel this warm glow in my chest as he straps me into my highchair and feeds me bites of my favorite food in the whole wide world.
But with every bite, he knocks down another brick in those walls around my heart. I’m going to have to find a way to build them back up, before I find myself falling for the last man on earth I have any business wanting.
Donovan
Camilla is absolutely adorable, seated in her highchair in a shirt that barely covers her plump breasts and leaves a hint of her round tummy bare, with a smear of whipped cream on her cheek. This moment right here is everything I’ve ever wanted, and I can hardly believe it’s real.
Picking up my napkin, I wipe the cream from her face, allowing myself a moment to linger, to savor the sweet moment between us. Given how stubborn my Little girl is proving to be, I’m not sure when I’ll have another opportunity to simply enjoy her being my baby. So I soak it in while I can, enjoying her good mood while it lasts.
Sliding the last bite of waffle into her mouth, I reward her with a bright smile. “What a good girl you are, finishing your breakfast. Let’s get you cleaned up and then Daddy has a surprise for you.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t fight me as I use a wet wipe to clean the stickiness from her face and hands. As much as I enjoypunishing my naughty girl, I meant what I said earlier. I reallydowant her to be happy here.
With that in mind, I grab the bottle from the cooler on the table and rise to carry my Little girl over to the glider in her nursery. But a flash of blue catches my eye, and a I make a detour to her crib to grab her dragon. After all she’s been through this morning, I figure she could use a bit of comfort.
And knowing how attached she is to her stuffie, if I can win over Cobalt, I can win over my Little girl.
I know it’s the right move when her eyes light up and she holds him tight against her chest with a happy squeal. “Cobie!”
“I thought he might enjoy cuddling with us while you drink your bottle.”
A frown tugs at her lips. “He says that’s really nice. But you still have to call him Cobalt.”
So I’m not to be granted friend status just yet. Ah, well. I’ll get there soon enough, I’m sure.
Settling in the glider with Camilla and Cobalt on my lap, I press the rubber nipple to my Little one’s lips, and wait.
The struggle she must be feeling inside is clear on her face. Hunger fills her eyes, a hunger that has nothing to do with her tummy and everything to do with her soul. She wants this, wants to be babied and pampered and punished, even if she doesn’t necessarily want any of those things from me.
“Time for your bottle, little one.” I keep my voice light, cajoling rather than demanding. If I try to force this on her, she will no doubt rebel simply because I am the one asking it of her.
Her gaze flicks from the bottle to my face, and I have to swallow a laugh at how adorably tortured she looks. Stubborn little brat, depriving herself of something she so clearly wants just to spite me.
But after a few minutes, her own desires win out and she parts her lips for the bottle. My heart does a slow roll in my chestas I slide the nipple into her mouth and she takes the first greedy gulp of milk.
“Good girl. Can you show Daddy what a big girl you are and hold your bottle?”
Obediently, she lifts her hands to grip the bottle as she continues to suckle the tip. With my hands free, I slide one into the waistband of her diaper until my fingers brush against the wetness I knew I’d find there.
In my arms, Camilla stiffens but doesn’t fight me. Her eyes widen slightly, fear and desire whirling in the bright blue as I run my fingertips over the swollen nub of her clit.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me, Camilla,” I praise her in that same cooing tone. “And good girls who do as their Daddy says get rewarded. Would you like your reward now, little one?”
