Page 46 of Daddy’s Hunted Bride

“Shhh, little fox.” Leaning over me on the table, Dane presses heavily on my bladder with one hand while the other brushes the hair from my face. “Uncle Ford is just trying to help. Do you trust us?”

“No.”

To my surprise, he only laughs at my sulky response. “Fair enough. But you have my word, nobody is going to hurt you right now. Can you try and believe me, little one?”

“Maybe.” Even more surprising than his laughter is the fact that yes, I do actually believe him. Up until now, he’s always been pretty honest about what he plans to do to me.

Something tickles the back of my mind. A memory that feels important, even though I can’t grab hold of it long enough to actually see it. The harder I try, the more my head aches, so I let it go for now and close my eyes while Dane forces me to pee in my diaper again.

Once I’ve soaked myself, it’s actually a relief to have the wet cotton stripped from my body, so I don’t complain. I’m vaguely aware of Dane and Ford having a whispered conversation in the corner, but again it hurts too much to focus.

What happened to me?

“Nessie, can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?”

Against my better judgement, I pry my eyes open to peer up at Ford, who smiles indulgently in return. “Good girl. Do you have any other symptoms? Any nausea or other pains I should know about?”

“Uh-uh. Just my head.”

“Okay. I’m going to give you a little something for the pain.” Patting my shoulder, he looks up at Dane. “Can you roll her onto her side for me, with her left leg at an angle toward you?”

“Got it.”

“Why?” I whine as Dane moves me into position. “I can’t swallow a pill like this.”

Chuckling softly, Dane leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. “This isn’t a pill, little fox. Well, I suppose it is, sort of. But you don’t swallow it.”

Just like that, I really am a child again, tears filling my eyes as I stare pleadingly up at him. “Daddy, no! I don’t want a shot!”

“Shh, baby. It’s not a shot, either. This medicine goes in your bottom, that’s all.”

What is this man’s obsession with shoving things up my ass? “Why can’t I have a regular pill?” I’m whining again, like a true toddler, but I can’t seem to find the energy to care.

“Because babies can’t swallow pills. But if you’re a good girl and lie very still while Uncle Ford gives you your medicine, Daddy will give you a reward.”

“Like ice cream?”

We both know he wasn’t talking about ice cream, but he grins down at me anyway. “Yeah, baby. You can have a big ol’ bowl of ice cream as soon as your head feels a bit better. If you lie still for Uncle Ford. Deal?”

Sniffling pitifully, I nod. “Deal.”

“Good girl. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Behind me, Ford grips one of my bottom cheeks and something round presses against my hole. Clearly, Dane is trying to distract me from this invasion, and I’m grateful enough for the distraction to play along. “Halloween. The whole franchise, except the third movie because it’s not even about Michael Myers!”

Dane gasps dramatically, one hand pressed to his chest in mock horror. “What? How do you have a Halloween movie without Michael Myers?”

“I know! It made me so mad that now I just skip it when I rewatch the movies every year on Halloween.” I pause, frowning as a horrible thought occurs to me. “I’m not gonna be allowed to watch them anymore, am I?”

There’s a short pause as Dane weighs his response. “Maybe we could start with a scary movie and see how you do. As long as it doesn’t give you nightmares, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be allowed.”

Not once in my life has a movie ever given me nightmares. But I also recognize this is likely to be the only concession I get on this particular topic, so I don’t argue. “Okay, Daddy.”

“All done!” Ford declares, whipping his gloves off with a flourish. “Now, no running straight outside to play for you, little one. Plenty of rest and fluids.” He winks. “And ice cream. Doctor’s orders.”

“You heard the man,” Dane says as he sweeps me up into his arms. “Let’s go get you a bottle and then you can have some ice cream.”

He hums as he carries me to the kitchen, where Eli frowns at us. “What’s wrong with her?”