Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
“You’re very good at this,” she informed him as he worked conditioner into her hair.
“Washing hair?”
“Yeah. And taking care of me.”
“I enjoy taking care of you in all ways,” he told her. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you, Freckles.”
“Thank you.”
He washed out the conditioner before turning off the shower and carrying her from the shower to dry her off.
“Beck?”
“Yes, Freckles?”
“Will you punish me?”
“I already did. Or don’t you remember the lines?”
“Ew. No way I could forget them. No, I don’t mean lines. I mean, will you spank me until I cry?”
He finished drying her off and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, taking her in. God, she was gorgeous.
“Explain.”
“I just . . . I haven’t cried since Jonathan rescued me.”
He stared at her in shock. “What?”
“I can’t . . . I don’t know why.”
“And you think a spanking would change that? I don’t know, Freckles. That doesn’t sound very healthy to me.”
“I just . . . I feel so guilty about not telling you what Jonathan asked me to do. It’s like a lead ball sitting in my tummy. It hurts.”
Fuck. He didn’t want her to hurt.
He drew her panties up her legs and then grabbed the outfit that she’d picked out from the playroom closet. She’d been so excited when she’d seen everything that the service Hux hired had put in there. A bed that converted to a crib. Change table and rocking chair. So many toys and outfits. Hux had gone a bit nuts.
But it was worth whatever they had to pay.
The outfit was a tulle skirt with silver stars on it and a bright pink T-shirt with Princess across it. He’d found a tiara and some cute hair ties to do her hair.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes. Please. I really think it would help.”
He helped her sit so he could put her T-shirt on. It had a built-in bra, so he didn’t bother with one.
“I’ll talk to the others, okay? And I want you to really think about it.”
Her face dropped.
“Hey, it’s not a no.” He gripped her chin, tilting her head back. “All right?”
“All right.”
“Now, let’s go see what we can find to play with. And I’ll do your hair.”
They ended up back in the playroom with her doing her doll’s hair while he brushed hers and put it up into two cute ponytails. She only complained that he was too rough a few times.
Then he sat on the floor, and she handed him over another doll. “Do her hair, Daddy.”
He stared at her in shock.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Um, you called me Daddy.”
“Was I not meant to?”
“No, you are. I mean, I . . . I was hoping you would. You hadn’t called me Daddy since we left Escana.”
Her eyes widened, and she winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. It’s nothing to be sorry about, understand?”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Now where were we?”
“You have to do Maggie-Mae’s hair, Daddy.”
“Please,” he said. “Someone is forgetting their manners.”
She cringed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s not a big deal. Sometimes Little girls need reminders about their manners. Us Daddies understand that. Okay?”
She smiled. “All right, Daddy. Now, please do Maggie-Mae’s hair. It’s very messy, and she doesn’t like it.”
“We can’t have that. Is she hungry? Does she need some food?”
“No, she doesn’t get hungry much.”
“Hmm, you don’t get hungry much either, do you?” he said carefully, not wanting to push too hard. “Is that something to do with Jonathan?”
She bit her lip, and he reached up to free it.
“Hey, don’t hurt yourself.”
She sighed and rubbed her face against his chest. “I guess it is. Jonathan controlled everything about my life. What I ate was one thing I could control. So I started eating less and less. And now . . . I just don’t get that hungry.”
“Do you need to talk to someone about that?” He wanted her to have whatever she needed but he didn’t want to pressure her.
“Maybe,” she agreed. “But not now?”
“All right. I’ll remember to talk to you about that later.”
“You’re a really good Daddy.” She patted his face.
“I’ve had a love-hate relationship with food for years, so I kind of understand.”
“You have?” She straightened and slid around on his lap so she faced him. “Does it have something to do with why you don’t like to take off your top?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Thing is . . . I was a really chubby kid. My Ma is a great cook, and I liked to eat. She used to say that good food was like a hug. And it was. I didn’t think anything of it until I got older and had to go to a bigger school. The kids there weren’t nice about my size.”
Sadness and sympathy filled her at his words.
“I’m so sorry. What assholes. I’d tell you that you’re sexy and gorgeous. But I know that sometimes it doesn’t matter when the voices start getting to you. But you are. You’re so freaking delicious that I want to constantly touch you, be near you, lick you all over so everyone knows you’re mine.”