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“Any pain, sweetness?”
“No,” she croaked.
“That’s good. Stay still and catch your breath.”
That seemed smart. Yes, she could do that. Only… “Too full. Need to move.”
His beard tickled her nape as his lips skimmed the sensitive spot usually hidden by her hair. Shifting, he reached out and snagged the blanket, letting it fall open before giving it a one-handed shake. He tucked it around them both, covering her to the breasts so she could snuggle into it. “Stay still unless you want an ass full of cream, Callie.”
Obediently, she forced herself to contain the urge to wiggle.
“That’s it, relax.” Kisses teased her neck and the top of her shoulder, but his right hand was otherwise occupied for a minute before it slid beneath the blanket to rest on her stomach. “Calm breaths, babygirl. Let’s see how long you can be patient for. Little girls on their best behavior get a reward.”
Focusing on the rigid column of flesh impaling her rear, Callie turned her face against his neck and inhaled his scent. Her muscles were fluttering around him, but now the shock was wearing off, she discovered she liked the connection.
Closing her eyes, she breathed.
Slow, deep inhales full of Evander.
Long, calming exhales full of residual anxiety.
Something clicked softly. The tension in the room altered subtly, thickening and becoming palpable, but it didn’t affect Evander in the slightest. She tried to mimic his ease with the situation, but the little demons chattering on her shoulder whispered cruelty in her ears.
Two of them watching you. Judging you. Finding you lacking.
Laughing at the stupid whore forsaking the commandments of God, partaking in forbidden acts, giving yourself a one-way ticket straight to Hell.
Whore. Slut. Dirty heathen.
Instinctively, her shoulders hunched, her back tightening as her father’s voice belittled her. Judged and condemned her the way he always did. If he saw her now…there was no telling what he’d do to her in punishment.
Kill her, probably.
Gregory’s wrath knew no bounds.
“Stay with me, Callie.”
The sound of Evander’s voice, low and confident, was enough to flip the switch on her Little; the depth of her anxiety allowed her to utilize her defense system without much encouragement.
Gregory and his wrath were a few hundred miles away, but Daddy was here with her in this moment, and his love, warmth, and protection chased away the bad stuff chilling her bones.
She squirmed restlessly, whimpering as her body insisted she needed to ride the thick appendage filling her so deeply. Maybe if she just rocked her hips…
“Your Little appears to be in distress, Evander.”
Despite feeling Elias’s presence in the room, it was a shock to hear that smooth English voice. Her eyes popped open without her bidding, locking unerringly on stunning blue ones. Her heart stuttered as she recognized the look in them—the same one she saw so often in Daddy’s.
Lust. Longing. Need.
Elias sprawled elegantly in the opposite corner of the couch, one arm stretched along the back. He was a big man, although not to Evander’s standards—there were few men who measured up to him in sheer size. “Good evening, little one.”
A shiver rippled through her in response.
He’d foregone the suit tonight, she noted, and gone for his version of casual. Black was casual, right? The full-sleeve T-shirt hugged his body like saranwrap, highlighting the firm muscles in his chest and arms. Denim defined the thickness of his thighs, and the prominent bulge at his crotch.
She couldn’t help comparing the size of his socked feet with her Daddy’s, and determined that if the old adage of a man’s foot size matched his penis, then he was almost as well-endowed as Evander.
“H-Hi,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor.
