Chapter 15 #2
The breath catches in my throat at her words and another shiver runs through my veins. “Y-yes, Mommy.”
“Good. Because if it becomes necessary to have this conversation again, I will leave my mark on you in such a way that you can never again doubt the permanence of my claim. You belong to me, little imp, and I am never, ever letting you go.”
There must be something incredibly fucked in my head because her words should terrify me. They should fill me with dread, knowing there is not now, nor will there ever be, any chance of escape.
But all I feel as she slowly pulls her hand from my pussy and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, is peace.
I am Mommy’s Little girl. And I finally belong.
Catharina
If I could, I would track down every single person who’s ever made my Little girl feel like anything less than the beautiful, amazing, sweet girl she is and tear them limb from limb.
The desire to do so, to wreak as much havoc as I can in the lives of these people I don’t even know is so strong I have to physically calm myself down as I continue giving Alexis her bath.
She walks me through the steps to detangle her hair, which is more involved than I’d expected, despite all the videos I’ve watched.
But eventually Alexis and her hair are both squeaky clean, the gel and curl cream my personal stylist recommended for Alexis specifically, are combed carefully through her fiery hair, and I help her out of the tub, wrapping her up in a fluffy robe and the special hair wrap I bought that is meant to protect her curls.
A growling sort of sound meets my ears, and I look down at my blushing babygirl as she pulls the robe even more tightly around her stomach.
“Sounds like someone is ready for breakfast!” I tease, poking her tummy and eliciting an adorable giggle from her.
“Waffles?” she asks, her gaze and voice both so hopeful I can’t bear to disappoint her.
“You may have one waffle, as long as you eat your eggs first.”
Nose wrinkling, she makes a gagging sound. “Eggs are yucky.”
“They are not. You like eggs.”
“Nuh-uh!”
Bending at the waist, I meet her gaze head-on, fighting with all my considerable willpower to keep the smile from curving my lips. “Alexis Paige. What happens to naughty Little girls who lie to their Mommies?”
The pink in her cheeks spreads, covering nearly her entire face down to her neck. “I dunno.”
“What do you think happens?”
“Th-they get spanked?”
“And they get their mouths washed out with soap. And I bet your eggs would taste extra yucky if that happened, don’t you?”
“Probably.”
The sulky reply nearly breaks my willpower in two and I have to swallow hard to keep the laughter from bubbling up in my throat. “No more arguing about the eggs then.”
“Yes, Mommy,” she says with an exaggerated sigh.
“Good girl.” Taking her hand, I lead her out into the nursery.
And wait.
I don’t have to wait very long. We’ve barely taken two steps into the room when her happy shrieks pierce the air and she drops my hand to race forward, dropping to her knees in front of the table where her new toy is proudly on display.
“It’s my oven!” Running her hands reverently over the plastic toy, she looks up at me, happiness shining in her eyes.
And I know right then I’m a goner. That there is literally nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to see that look in my babygirl’s eyes.
“Thank you, Mommy! Can I try it out? Please, please, please?”
I’d had every intention of telling her that playtime would have to wait until after breakfast. But god, I’m a sucker for the way that pouty lip of hers trembles ever so slightly as she begs, and I feel every bit of resistance in my body crumble.
“You may try out two recipes, and then we need to eat real food.”
“But it is real food, Mommy!”
“Alexis.” I let a note of warning infuse my voice, despite the amusement still welling in my chest. “What did Mommy say?”
With another of those deep, from-the-soul sighs, she drops her shoulders and pouts. “You said I could make two and then we gotta have breakfast.”
“That’s right. If you’re going to argue, I’ll have Gavin return your toy and there will be no more shopping trips for a week. Am I understood?’
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Good girl.” Settling in the rocker beside her, I watch as she carefully selects which packet she wants to make, then tears it open to mix it with the bottled water Gavin so thoughtfully provided.
I make a mental note to give him a hefty bonus at the end of the month for the care he’s taken with my Little girl as I watch her slide a pan into the oven and set the timer.
She’s enraptured, her entire face aglow beneath the wrap on top of her head as she waits for the oven to ding. And when it does, she again moves with deliberate care, opening the oven door and reaching inside.
“Careful, little imp. Don’t burn yourself.”
“Oh! Right!”
Slipping on the cherry-covered oven mitts laying on the table beside the oven, she reaches inside and pulls out a pan with two of the smallest donuts I’ve ever seen in my life nestled inside.
“Do-dos!” she announces, pride echoing in her words as she holds the pan up for me to see.
“Do-dos? What on earth are do-dos?”
Color creeps into her cheeks and she shrugs, carefully placing the pan on the table and removing her oven mitts. “It’s just what I called donuts when I was little and it sorta stuck.”
“Well I think it’s adorable. And they shall forever be known as do-dos here on the island.”
“Really?” Her face lights up. “You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Absolutely not. What kind of icing are you going to put on our do-dos?”
“Umm… pink!”
I watch, my heart swelling to the point I wonder how it doesn’t simply burst out of my chest as she extracts our “do-dos” from the pan and slathers them with pink icing.
And I don’t even flinch when she hands me the messy little pastry, instead toasting her by touching my donut to hers and popping it in my mouth.
It is, quite frankly, disgusting. Too chewy and somehow both overly sweet and flavorless at the same time. But my Little girl is staring at me with such hope in her eyes, I force myself to smile and make yummy noises as I chew and swallow the thing.
Perhaps Gavin can find some slightly more appealing options for us online.
For now, however, I know I’d eat an entire meal’s worth of these gross little pastries if it means never wiping that smile from my little one’s face.