Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lexie
I didn’t even know we had an attic, but now, knowing that there’s something secret there my Mommy has never shown anyone, I can’t wait to get up there.
Beside me, Mommy tugs at the jacket of the pretty white blazer she’s wearing, a sign of nervousness I’ve never seen from her, and my mind races with possibilities. What could be up here that has her feeling nervous?
Together we climb a set of stairs that seems oddly rickety given the house has just been built. Almost like they’ve been built that way on purpose, to add to the atmosphere or something.
Mommy pauses just outside a door that looks equally old and mysterious, seemingly gathering her courage before placing a hand on the door handle and turning it, pushing the door inward.
Into the attic.
Except, it’s not an attic. Not really. It’s an artist’s studio, with huge windows to let in plenty of natural light, canvases and paint and all manner of things scattered around.
Letting go of Mommy’s hand, I walk forward into the space, slowly taking it all in. It’s gorgeous, and obviously well-used, even more than Mommy’s office by the looks of things.
To my right, a riot of color catches my eye and I immediately move toward a large canvas on an easel near one of the towering windows.
And when I’m finally close enough to see the details of the painting, my heart catches in my throat.
“Is that… is that me?”
“It is.” Her voice is soft, unsure, and I glance over to find her standing just to the side, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “My little imp, making mischief.”
That’s exactly what it looks like. A chubby little cherub of a thing with bright-red hair and green eyes, her head thrown back with laughter as she races away from the pretty cottage off to the side.
A woman chases her, hairbrush held high, but there’s no malice in her face.
The corner of her mouth is tugged up in a knowing grin, and one can’t help but feel she enjoys every second of the imp’s mischief.
Reaching out a trembling hand, I run my fingers over the woman’s face. “You did this?”
“I did.”
“And the paintings downstairs, the fairies and the mermaids who all look so sad… you did those too?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Turning my head, I watch with more than a little amusement as Mommy blinks twice, then frowns. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Why are they all so sad? You’re Catharina Montgomery. You have everything you could possibly want. Why would you paint such sad things?”
More hesitation, and I can see the wheels turning in her mind, like she’s trying to decide how much to reveal.
And it occurs to me then, seeing her like this with a little piece of her soul bared, that I’m getting to see a version of Catharina nobody else gets to see.
Not my uncles or the other Littles or even Gavin.
Only me.
“You know what it’s like,” she begins slowly.
“Feeling left out. Like you don’t quite belong.
Despite all my money, I’ve felt that way my entire life.
Sometimes because of my money, really. People are either very eager or very hesitant to get close to you when you wield the kind of money and power I’ve had my entire life.
And when I realized I was gay, well, that was a whole new level of different. Of other.”
“Mommy…” Closing the distance between us, I slide my arms around her waist. “What about here, on the island? You can’t have felt alone here.”
“The island has been a dream come true, in so many ways. But this past year, watching my family grow one by one, but never finding my own Little girl… I can’t even begin to tell you how hard that was for me.
I was worried I’d never find her, that I’d just always be Auntie Cat and never Mommy.
I longed for a babygirl of my own, in ways I don’t think even your uncles could truly appreciate. ”
“And then you found me.” A love I’d never expected to feel, not really, wells in my chest. “And now you’re not alone anymore.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes. “No, baby. I’m not alone. And neither are you.”
Tilting my head back, I invite her to kiss me. Which she does, so deeply and thoroughly it leaves me breathless by the time she’s done.
“I want to taste you,” she murmurs against my lips, her hands tugging at the hem of my dress. “I want you naked in the sunlight, in this place where I thought I’d always be alone, and I want to taste your pussy and your tears.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“My good girl.” She pulls the pretty green dress up over my head, baring me to her. The sunlight is harsh, unforgiving, but I don’t care. My Mommy loves every inch of me, in every light.
Dropping to her knees in front of me, she presses a kiss to my tummy, tugging at the straps of my diaper until I am utterly, completely bare to her gaze. “So beautiful.” The words are a sigh, full of pleasure and want. “My pretty, brave, amazing Little girl. Lie down for Mommy, baby.”
I do, stretching out on a blanket she produces seemingly out of nowhere. And there, in the warm sunlight, I let her love me the way I deserve.
The way we both deserve.
Over and over again, she takes me to my peak, forcing me to come so many times I lose track of time, my sanity, reality itself. By the time she’s through, she gets exactly what she’d asked for as she swipes the tears from my cheeks with her tongue.
“Come here, my love.” Popping open the buttons of her blazer, she reveals the bare skin beneath, cupping her breast for me.
And as I lay in her arms, drinking greedily from her breasts, a calm certainty settles over me.
The certainty that I belong here, right here.
That nobody else can simply step in and claim my place in my Mommy’s heart.
To the others, she may be Auntie Cat, wielder of hairbrushes and spoiler of Little girls.
But to me, and only me, she will always be Mommy.
I am hers. And she is mine.
And everything is exactly as it should be.