Page 20 of Daddy’s Hunted Bride

A wicked gleam lights his eyes. “You’ll have to be very, very good to earn that, little girl.”

It’s not a flat-out “No”, which is honestly what I was expecting. Clinging to that promise, however vague and shadowy it might be, I nod. “All right. One orgasm in exchange for pissing myself in your bed.”

“Seems like a good deal to me.”

I would still rather have the chance to escape, but since he didn’t outright refuse my request, I’m not going to argue.

If I need to be a good girl to earn that chance, then I’ll damn well be the goodest girl this family has ever seen.

With that in mind, I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on relaxing my pelvic floor or whatever it is keeping me from peeing myself. Waterfalls… a gentle spring rain… the creek behind grandma’s house.

Soon, my body gives in to the pressure—both physical and mental as Dane is still pressing on my bladder—and I can feel my diaper filling with urine. Which is exactly as gross as I’d expected it to feel.

“Can you get this thing off me, now? It’s… wet.”

“As you wish, little one.”

Rolling off the bed, he scoops me into his arms and carries me over to a closed door. It takes him a moment to juggle the weight of me in his arms, but he manages to push the door open and we step into another room.

Not a bathroom, as I’d expected, but a bedroom of sorts. No… Not a bedroom.

A huge fucking nursery.

The walls are all painted a pale blue as a background, but only about half the wall is simply blue. From the floor up are layers and layers of pine trees, interspersed with various animals. Some are running like normal animals, while others are engaged in distinctly more human activities. There’s a group dancing, another group having a tea party together—complete with giant floppy hats—and yet another group of animals appears to be in a serious discussion over the book they each hold in their hands.

“Holy sh—crap. This is gorgeous.”

“It’s just something I’ve been doodling.”

As Dane lays me down on a tall bed of sorts, I stare up at him. “You painted all this?”

To my utter shock, pink colors what’s visible of his cheeks above his bushy beard. “Like I said, it’s just something I’ve been doodling. We can paint over it if you’d like something different.”

“Don’t you dare.”

I shouldn’t feel so possessive over a room that I won’t be inhabiting for very long if I have my way about it. But that’s exactly what I feel. The very thought of anyone erasing his shockingly whimsical art fills me with a rage I can’t quite explain.

Laughing again, he peels the diaper from me and throws it in an odd-looking trash bin. “Calm down, little fox. Nobody will take it from you if you don’t want.”

“Well, good,” I reply with an annoyed huff of air.

“Mmm.” A wicked grin curves his lips as he hooks his arms under my knees and hauls me down to the end of the table. “You made such a mess in your diaper, babygirl. Time for Daddy to… clean you up.”

It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with what he’s saying. And by the time it does, he’s already ducking his head, his tongue hovering dangerously close to my soaked pussy.

“Wait! You haven’t—You haven’t wiped me yet.”

The grin on his face shifts to a smirk. “I told you. Daddy is going to clean you up.”

Horrified, I watch as he runs his tongue up through my folds, to my clit. His happy hum vibrates against my swollen nub. “You taste delicious, little fox.”

Okay, well, clearly it’s not possible to actually die of humiliation because if it was, this moment would have done me in. “Oh. My. God. What is wrong with you?”

“So much that you can’t even fathom, my adorable little fox.”

And then my mind goes blank as pleasure floods my body. Reaching for him, I tangle my fingers in his hair as I arch up, lifting my hips to meet his hungry mouth. Teeth and tongue graze over my sensitive nerves, driving me closer and closer to the edge. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice is screaming that we shouldn't be enjoying this, shouldn’t be encouraging him, but I’m too far gone to care.

I was promised an orgasm if I debased myself for him, and I’m damn well going to get it.