Chapter 49
Asher
“Just hold it a little longer, sweetheart. This is good for you,” I said, nodding encouragingly—apparently the action of nodding made the other party more agreeable.
“This is most undignified, Daddy,” she bit out before hissing and closing her eyes.
“An enema is good for you,” I murmured.
One eye opened.
“When was the last time you had one?”
“Two more minutes,” I crooned, ignoring her ridiculous question.
Nothing was going up my arsehole.
“I’m not doing it with you in here, Daddy. I’m drawing a line. A hard line.”
She even raised her finger and drew the line in the air.
I smiled and nodded again, slowly retreating from the bathroom.
“I’ll just be outside.”
My poor sweet innocent Princess had no idea what was about to go inside her next. The remote control vibrations should keep her happy though.
“Don’t listen,” she shouted just as I closed the door.
I chuckled as I went to check on all the items neatly lined up in the drawer beside the bed.
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“Daddy, I really don’t think your warriors will reach Valhalla like this,” she giggled—but that only made her tighten up again.
“You think my dick is this small?” I drawled, smearing more lube on the plug.
Her head twisted around and her dark hair scattered across the back of her dress. She’d chosen another white one today—stark red poppies this time.
She saw the plug and relief washed over her. Her head dropped back onto the bed.
“That I can cope with.” The words were muffled but legible.
“Remember Daddy’s rules,” I said sternly.
Then she did something that made my chest swell with pride—and beneath it all, my heart settled.
She raised her hand and presented me with her middle finger.
Sayla was not the same young woman who had come to me two months ago—bloody, broken and bruised. Those hazel eyes with their tinge of green had been wild with panic, the utter fear in them forcing me to harden my heart for the task ahead.
I dropped the lube on the bed and held her hand, kissing it gently before returning my attention to the vibration-featured plug.
I couldn’t let her get away with being so rude.
That’s what I told myself when I eased the tip of the plug inside her pretty little hole.
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Bubbles surrounded her and the combined scent of lilies and roses took me back to our garden. She was busy bobbing the family of frog bath toys. I was mildly concerned when she tried to drown them—but the dunking was brief and she clearly enjoyed watching them bob back to the surface.
I hit the button on the fob.
Beneath the water I couldn’t hear the vibrations—but her instant moan was enough. Her head tipped back, lips parted, and she released the frog.
One word left her lips.
Desperate. Hoarse. Mine.
“Daddy.”
I reached for the towel.
Bath time was over.
“I’m here. I’ll always be here for you, Princess.”
Her eyes fluttered open.
Her hair was pinned high like a crown.
All she needed was a princess tiara.
That could wait until our wedding.
I flung the towel over my shoulder and helped her up. The water sloshed and ran in rivulets down her body. She had more colour to her now—outside almost every day, the sun finding her again the way it always should have. But the way the water made her entire body glisten made me swallow hard.
I wrapped the warm towel around her shoulders and helped her out of the bath. The faint hum of the toy still working inside her made my lips twitch.
She stood on the bright yellow bath mat—the one she’d chosen. Thick, woven, aggressively vibrant. Very Sayla.
I moved the towel slowly, drying her back before working across her shoulders and clavicle, clearing away the last traces of bubbles.
The room was warm and still, scented with lilies and roses, the steam settling softly around us.
I crouched down when I reached her abdomen and pressed my lips gently beneath her belly button.
A miracle growing within.
Our baby.
Her hands cradled my head and she stroked my hair—slow, tender, unhurried. As though she had all the time in the world.
As though she finally believed she did.