I’m just enough.
I’ve lost track of how many times my body and mind have shattered before she finally goes still, her own cries of release mingling with mine a moment before she collapses against me, our skin slick with sweat as she presses a soft kiss to my breast.
“My good, sweet girl. Breathe for me, baby. We’re all done now, my love. You took your punishment so well. Mommy’s so very proud of you, little one.”
I’m vaguely aware of her turning the toy off, pulling it from me as she gently slides her cock from my bottom. But when I hear the sound of some kind of packaging ripping open, I force my eyes open, watching her as she covers my tattoo with a clear plastic bandage of some kind.
Lifting my head, I try to look at it, but the angle is too awkward with my hands bound this way. “What does it say?”
“Property of Mommy,” she says with a smile. “And sealed with a kiss.”
“Oh.” My heart flutters in my chest. “That’s… kind of sweet, actually.”
Snorting out a laugh, she climbs up onto the bed with me again and gently releases me from my restraints. “I am notsweet. This island is full of depraved, horrible men, and I’m worse than all of them.”
Humming softly, I turn and curl into her, my face pressed against her breast. “You aren’t. You’re my Mommy. And if I say you’re sweet, then you’re sweet.”
“I amveryconcerned about your definition of ‘sweet’ right now, little girl.” But there’s a hint of a smile on her lips, even as she shakes her head and tears a clear bandage from the packaging to place it over my tattoo.
No. Not just a tattoo.
My Mommy’s mark, claiming me as hers forever and ever.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lexie
My eyes are drooping by the time we finish showering together and drying my hair. Mommy insisted on washing it after our day at the waterpark, and even though I fussed about it, Idofeel better now that it’s all fresh and clean again.
Swaying on my feet, I watch through blurry eyes as Mommy selects a pajama set covered with dancing frogs for me to sleep in.
“Come on, little one. Let’s get you to bed.”
Crossing the room to her bed, she pulls the covers back and nudges me forward. “In you go, baby. Mommy just needs to finish getting ready for bed.”
“Oh, but…” Tightening my grip on her hand, I press myself against her. “I wanna stay with you.”
She hesitates a moment then leans over, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Of course, baby.”
Perched gingerly on a stool in her bathroom in deference to the ache in my bottom from my punishment, I watch as she slathers so many different creams and oils onto her face that Ilose count. A few times, she pauses to massage something into my skin as well.
“We really should have started a proper skincare regimen for you ages ago,” she murmurs as she slicks a sweet-smelling oil over my cheeks. “I’ll schedule a consult for you at the Cozy Cradle, see what they suggest for this pretty face.”
Her words bring a question to mind I’ve never stopped to consider. “Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Will you… will you still want me to be your baby when I’m old and wrinkly and my hair is all gray?”
Her lips twitch as she turns to tap a finger on the end of my nose. “You’ll never be old, my love, because you’ll always be my baby. And that will always be true, no matter how your body changes over the years. Got it?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
For a moment, I’m sure she’s going to say something more. The corners of her lips dip down and her eyes search my face, as if she’s looking for… something. What, I’m not sure, but my chest tightens with anticipation.
But then her expression clears and she smiles again, though it doesn’t really ease the pressure in my chest.
“Good. Now let’s get you to bed. You look like you’re about to fall off that stool.”
