“Mine,” he repeats, his eyes blazing with triumph. “Until death do we part, Tabitha Grace Thorne.”
CHAPTER 15
COLT
Poor little firecracker. Her eyes are still leaking tears as I wrap a fresh diaper around her and untie the rope from her hands. I’d considered making her sit through dinner in her wedding “finery” but she’s been so good for me and I know how much she loves her pretty blue dress, so I sit her up on the buffet and help her back into the poofy creation.
But when I pick her up to carry her into the dining room, she doesn’t drop her head onto my shoulder the way she normally does, and a niggle of worry pricks at the back of my brain.
That niggle grows into something more when I take my seat at the table with her perched on my lap and she stiffens, pulling away as if she’s desperate to put as much distance between us as possible. Which isn’t much considering I’m holding her on my lap, but I can feel every agonizing inch.
What the hell is going on?
My family streams in around us, taking their places at the table, with Lanie and Josie buckled into their highchairs beside their respective Daddies. There’s one to my right for Tabby, but for our wedding feast it’s tradition for the groom to hold his bride as he feeds her. Even if it wasn’t tradition, there’s noway I’d be letting her go, not when there’s something so clearly wrong.
From the head of the table, Axel clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him as he beams out at us. “Now that Tabby is officially a Thorne, I believe some actual introductions are in order. Tabby, I know we’ve somewhat met already, but I’m your Uncle Axel and this is my Little girl, Lanie. We’re very happy to have you here.”
Lanie waves and bounces excitedly in her chair. But the pain from her earlier spanking clearly hasn’t faded because she immediately pauses and winces. I can’t help but chuckle at her adorably pained expression, and when I do, Tabby turns her head to glare at me. And again I find myself wondering what’s gotten into my Little girl.
I watch her face as my family introduces themselves. There isn’t any visible anger, only a sort of flatness that worries me. By the time we’ve worked our way through the alphabet all the way to G for Grayson, I know without a doubt there’s something very wrong with my babygirl.
Maybe she’s just hungry. It’s been a very long time since breakfast, and considering she slept most of the plane ride to Colorado, her tummy must be extra empty.
Part of me recognizes that I’m gaslighting myself, but hunger is something I can easily fix. And even if that’s not the core of what’s bothering her, shedoesneed to eat so I unbuckle the pacifier gag from around her head.
But when I try to pull the paci from her mouth, she jerks her head away, furiously sucking at the rubber tip in her mouth.
“Tabitha.” All around us, my family slows their movements as they focus on my suddenly rebellious babygirl. “Daddy needs to take the paci out so you can eat.”
Meeting my gaze with a boldness that nearly has my own mouth falling open, she sucks hard on the pacifier.
If I wasn’t so worried that something was very, very wrong, I would be thrilled by this show of brattiness. I want her to feel comfortable being herself here, whatever that looks like, but instinct tells me this isn’t her simply embracing her inner brat.
So I try a different tack. “Tabby, baby. Don’t you want to try some of the yummy food your Uncle Eli made for us? He worked really hard all morning to prepare our wedding feast and you’ll hurt his feelings if you don’t eat.”
Uncertainty flickers across her face, but then her jaw firms again and she gives the pacifier another stubborn suck.
All right. Apparently I’m going to have to get mean.
Gripping her nipple through her dress, I give it a light squeeze. Not enough to hurt, not yet, but enough to let her know I mean business. “Give Daddy the pacifier, Tabitha Grace. Right now.”
Her chin wobbles and fresh tears glimmer over her bright hazel eyes. And still, she refuses to yield.
Despite my worry over her sudden stubbornness, a dark thrill races through me. I am, at my core, a sadist and I truly do enjoy hurting sweet Little girls like my Tabby.
So when I squeeze her nipple harder, giving it a little twist at the same time, my cock twitches in anticipation as her shocked cry rings out through the dining room. I release her breast to grab the pacifier before it hits the ground and stuff it in my pocket.
“Are you going to let Daddy feed you, or do I need to punish you again?”
“No!”
Before I can react to her blatant defiance, she does something that shocks me to my very core. Grabbing hold of the plate in front of me, she picks it up?—
And sends it flying.
Silence descends on the table, my own shock reverberating through my siblings and nieces as we stare at Eli’s pot roast dripping down the wall.
It’s my babygirl’s gasp that jolts me out of my shock as she slaps her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide and staring at the mess she’s made.
