Chapter 7
brAM
“How’s it feel to finally be marrying sweet little Josie?”
Meeting Axel’s gaze in the mirror as I tug on my tie, I grin. “Pretty fucking great, if I’m being honest. I never thought I’d see her again, and now…”
“Yeah.” Emotion glints in my brother’s eyes. “I get it. We all love her too, you know. Not the same way, of course. She was always more like an annoying little sister to the rest of us, but we loved her all the same.”
“I know you did.” I shift my gaze to where the rest of our brothers are gathered just past him. “She’s going to need all of us. To help her adjust, to grieve the life we’re forcing her to leave behind.”
“We’ve got you, brother,” Eli grunts.
With my tie finally in place, I turn to my brothers. “All right, then. Let’s go get me married.”
Together, we head back down the stairs to where Gray is waiting with our two Little ones.
But it’s Josie who draws my attention. Her dark hair has been twisted into two braids that wrap around her head.
And nestled in the crown of hair is an actual crown, our mother’s wedding tiara.
Dressed in nothing but the tiara, a diaper and the blue rope binding her hands together, she looks… mine. All mine.
Finally.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the final item in her wedding ensemble. “Something old,” I begin, smiling down at her as I slide the rubber tip of the pacifier gag between her trembling lips, “my mother’s tiara. Something new, this pacifier. Something borrowed…”
I trail off and Gray steps forward to slide her hairbrush between Josie’s clasped hands. With a grateful smile, I return my attention to my bride as I buckle the gag behind her head. “And something blue, the rope. You make a beautiful bride, my sweet Josie.”
The green-gold of her eyes shimmers with tears and she stares up at me, silently pleading with me to let her go. But not only is that not an option, as agreed upon by my family, there’s one very real, very important reason I’m not going to let her run from me.
I don’t want to.
With that in mind, I grip her elbow and guide her down the short “aisle” to where Eli is waiting for us, our worn family Bible in his hand. An expression that could almost be described as a smile graces his face as he looks from me to Josie and back again.
Gripping the Bible in his large hands, Eli clears his throat.
“We are gathered here today to bind our brother, Bram Thorne, in holy matrimony to Josephine Elise Mercer. Do you, Bram, take Josie to be your wife and your Little girl, to have and to hold, to cherish and to punish? Do you promise to protect her against any threat to her health, safety, or overall wellbeing? Do you promise to be the Daddy she needs, providing for all her needs, physically, mentally, and emotionally, as long as you both shall live?”
Looking down at my Josie, I take in her tearful eyes, the pink flush in her cheeks. This isn’t exactly how I pictured our wedding day all those years ago when we were so young and full of hope.
But just now, I can’t imagine a more perfect moment and I have to blink back tears of my own as I smile. “I do.”
“Very well. As is our tradition, we shall forgo the bride’s vows since her mouth is otherwise occupied. I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now claim your bride.”
A cheer rises up around us as I sweep Josie up into my arms and carry her over to the long buffet-style table situated behind Elias.
Carefully laying her down on the polished wood, I allow myself a moment to drink in the sight of her, all lush curves and pale, flushed skin.
My heart pounds against my chest and my blood runs hot at the thought of being inside her again as I slowly peel the diaper from her.
“Chivaree!” As with the first wedding we held in this very room, Colt leads the cry as my brothers and sister take up their procession, banging on pots and pans as they parade around us. But despite the cacophony, all my attention is riveted on my sweet Little girl.
Though this is far from our first time together, it feels new. As if this ceremony has given us a fresh start on the lives we were denied that fateful night.
And I have every intention of giving my babygirl the life we both deserve.
Josie
What the fuck is happening?
All around us, the family is dancing, banging on things and making a whole lot of noise. Almost enough to distract me from the fact that I’m completely naked on some fucked-up altar, waiting to be claimed.
Almost.
My heart thunders in my chest as Daddy stares down at me, his eyes drinking me in.
And for a moment, shame heats my entire body.
I’m not the girl he knew twenty years ago.
Not only have I been through some shit and changed as a person, my body has changed as well.
Stretched and sagged in places that used to be tight and firm.
But the one thing that hasn’t changed is the hunger in Daddy’s eyes. It’s the same as it always was, stark and ravenous, a living thing that threatens to swallow me whole as I stare up into those dark pools.
“My pretty little Josie,” he murmurs as he lowers his head to capture my nipple in his mouth. Despite the pacifier gagging me—another humiliation I didn’t have the strength to fight—I cry out, arching up into his familiar touch.
And in that moment, the years fall away. My body instinctively reacts to him, heating and humming with need as I writhe on this depraved altar, my arousal slipping down to pool on the slick wood beneath me.
Daddy shifts his attention to the opposite breast and I let out a choked sob. It’s been far too long since I felt a man’s touch, nonetheless his touch, and just his mouth on me is enough to completely unravel me.
Fuck me, Daddy, please, please. The plea rises up in my throat, and I find myself thankful for the gag.
No matter what he does to me, I refuse to let him rip that last little bit of dignity from me.
My body is my own to command, and while I may not have any choice when it comes to following his rules or calling him Daddy, I certainly have a say in how I react to him.
But even as I swallow the cry trembling on my tongue, I know I’m lying to myself. My body has already betrayed me. Every inch of me burns for him, aches for him, and I’m powerless to stop the need coiling in my lower belly as he uses tongue and teeth to drive me to the brink of sanity.
Twenty years, it seems, was not nearly long enough for him to forget what makes me scream.
And then his fingers are inside me, stroking that hidden spot he once found when we were fooling around in the backseat of his car. Pleasure, hot and demanding, courses through my veins as he forces me closer and closer to that keenly sharp edge.
“Come for me, sweet Josie. Show Daddy what a good girl you still are.”
Good girl. That wasn’t a phrase he ever used when we were together before, but something about it taps into those deep, dark places inside me where all I crave is him. His touch, his discipline, his everything.
Don’t give it to him, Josie. Think about something else. Think about cows.
Ugh, I hate cows. Everyone always thinks I’m such a weirdo because cows are supposedly so “cute”. But they’re just creepy. Surely thinking about their big dumb eyes and the way their oversized udders sway with milk will keep me from giving him the pleasure he’s determined to rip from my body.
And it does. At least for a few seconds, I manage to pull myself back from the brink.
But I’m not to be spared. A wicked chuckle slips from his lips as he shakes his head at me. “Naughty little bug. Are you purposefully denying your Daddy the pleasure of hearing you scream?”
Something must show on my face, in my eyes, because his mouth tilts up in a knowing smirk. “You can try all you want, baby, but Daddy knows everything this pretty little cunt enjoys.”
It’s all the warning I get before the heel of his hand grinds against my clit. The sudden change shocks a muffled cry from my lips as I arch up on the table.
“That’s it, babygirl. Come for Daddy. Let Daddy feel this tight little pussy squeezing my hand as you come screaming for me.”
Helpless. I’m completely and utterly helpless against him as he works my body in ways that are somehow both achingly familiar and terrifyingly new at the same time.
And before I can find a way to stop him, he shoves me straight over the edge. Molten-hot pleasure floods my veins, every inch of my body as I sob and scream, my head thrashing in useless protest.
“My good Little girl,” Daddy croons, his fingers slowing but not stopping until it feels as though every ounce of pleasure has been drained from my being. “You’re so wet for me, bug. I can’t wait to be inside you again.”
Pulling his fingers from me, he shifts to stand at the end of the table, hoisting my legs up over his shoulders as the blunt head of his cock pushes at my entrance.
If I’d known what was waiting for me at the end of the aisle, I might have tried harder to escape. Because this isn’t merely a marriage in name only. This is a union of our bodies, our souls, the way it was when we were younger. Past collides with present, shattering my heart as he moves inside me.
Tears slip from the corners of my eyes, pooling on the wood beneath me. But Daddy seems oblivious to my torment as he uses my body for his own pleasure.
No. I suppose that’s not fair. Because even now, he’s angling himself to hit that exact right spot inside me, fucking me slow and deep the way he knows I love. It’s clear with every movement that he’s determined to force me to join him in this obscene caricature of consummation.
Hatred wells in my chest even as my body obeys his every command. And as I go flying again, the pressure in my core shattering as he drives into me one final time, filling my womb with his hot, sticky release, I swear to myself I will never, ever forgive him for what he’s done to me today.