Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Navin
I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t go another second without tasting her. I needed my mouth on her pussy more than my next breath. And she is so divine.
It also doesn’t escape my notice that she reacts strongly to my dominance. It may be contrary to her nature in her previous life, but she’s not that girl anymore. She’s the mate of a lion shifter. She’s changing, adapting to her new existence.
Every time she struggles to free her hands from my grip, I hold them firmer and secure her legs open with more pressure. Each time, her sweet cream floods my tongue. She likes it when I force her to accept my attention.
I’m teasing her, drawing on her clit and then pulling back to taste her cunt. I swirl my tongue around her swollen nub for a while and switch to grazing my teeth over her labia.
My girl is moaning so loudly it fills the room.
I’m glad her leg is healing as quickly as it is.
It’s obviously not hurting her. The long gash is down the front of her thigh, so I’m not gripping it.
Under the current circumstances, I don’t think she even remembers that she got injured so badly twenty-four hours ago.
I finally decide to give her the release she craves, focusing my attention on her clit until her body stiffens, and she finally screams. Her sweet nectar floods my mouth, and I’m aware I’ll never get enough of it. She’s like a drug I can’t live without.
When I release her pussy, I wipe my lips on the sheets and lift my gaze to find her staring at the ceiling.
There’s a precious smile on her face. She’s totally sated now.
In fact, when I let go of her wrists, her hands fall limply to her sides.
Her legs remain wide. I doubt she’s even aware of how exposed she is. I’m glad.
I plant my hands on either side of her head and hover over her so I can look her in the eyes. “You’re stunning when you come.”
Her cheeks flush, and she closes her eyes.
“Look at me, Little love. Look at Daddy.”
She hesitates before blinking her lids open. “No one’s ever done that to me before,” she murmurs.
I grin. “Good. No one else ever will, either. But I’ll be doing so often for the rest of your life.”
“You’re serious.”
“Totally.”
“What if you change your mind? You don’t even know me.”
“That will never happen. We’re bonded, Brea. We’re one now. That will only grow. You feel it as strongly as I do. You’re just struggling to accept it. After my cock is inside you, the connection will be even stronger.”
She shudders. “I almost died yesterday because I refused to spread my legs. How is it that one day later, I’m willing to let a stranger put his mouth on me?”
I’m disturbed by her statement. Did this Mitchel guy try to rape her, and when she didn’t comply, he decided to kill her?
I hold back my thoughts and answer my mate. “Because your body is aligned with mine, Little love. I want to know more about what happened with Mitchel, but we’ll get to that after you’ve eaten.” I rise up and reluctantly help her straighten her legs.
Brea pushes to sitting and inches closer to the edge of the bed.
I grip her chin and tip her head back. “No standing on that leg. Even though it’s healing on the outside, I don’t want you putting any pressure on it until I’m certain your leg can support you without splitting back open.”
She sighs. “You can’t carry me around.”
I chuckle. “Of course I can.” Stepping back, I lift my hands and flex my biceps.
She giggles. I love that sound.
I point at her. “Don’t move.” And then I stroll across the room and return with the box of supplies, setting it next to her on the bed.
After rummaging around in it, I pull out a pink T-shirt and panties.
“How do you feel about pink?” I had a white shirt out last night, but suddenly I feel like I want to dress her in pink.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I haven’t worn pink for years. I’ve been wearing dark colors that make me feel fierce instead of weak.”
“You’re certainly not weak, Little love. But I want you to feel feminine.” I shake out the T-shirt. “Arms up.”
She giggles again as she lifts her arms for me.
“Good girl.” I slide the shirt down her body.
A soft satisfied purr escapes her lips. “I like it when you say that,” she whispers.
“Good girl?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll say it often.” I squat in front of her and help her into the panties. “Lie back for me.”
She obeys me, letting me pull the panties up her legs. I’m careful as I lift the elastic over her wound and then tug them up around her waist. “There.”
“Do you have bras in that box?” She sits up and peers over the side.
“Nope. I’ve had this box for a year. I couldn’t have known what size my mate’s breasts might be. We can buy some soon, but I kind of like knowing I can reach out and stroke your breasts without the padding in the way.” To emphasize my point, I cup her soft globes and thumb the hard nipples.
She purrs for me, arching into my touch. “Daddy…”
My heart lurches at the sound of that word coming from her lips so effortlessly. Cupping her face, I bend to bring my lips to hers. I kiss her gently before whispering, “So sweet…” And then I kiss her again, deepening the connection in seconds.
Angling her head to one side, I glide my tongue along her lips and then slip inside the moment she opens for me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed a woman, and I’m certain it was nothing like this.
I’m a hundred times more connected to Brea than any other person I’ve ever met. It makes the kiss more intimate.
Brea grips my forearms and holds on to me while I continue to ravage her mouth. She’s panting heavily when I release her lips. “Daddy…” This time, the word is sultry. Pleading. Needy. Heaven.
She needs food, though. We both do. I sweep her into my arms, careful not to jostle her leg too much, and cradle her against my chest as I carry her from the bedroom.
She wraps her arms around my neck and leans her cheek against my shoulder. Her stomach growls.
“You need food,” I reiterate.
“I haven’t eaten for over twenty-four hours,” she points out.
When I reach the kitchen, I settle her on her bottom on the counter. “Sure you have. I’ve been feeding you.”
Her brows furrow. “How?”
I lift one of the empty bottles from the sink and hold it up.
Her eyes go wide. “Bottles?”
“It was either that or an IV. You were dehydrated and in desperate need of fluids and calories, Little love.” I pat her thighs. “Do you think you can sit here without falling? Are you steady enough?”
She rolls those pretty brown eyes. “Yes.”
I smirk. “Don’t get sassy with me, Little love. Remember, I can and will spank your bottom if needed.”
She clenches her thighs together at the mention, making me chuckle. “Soon, Brea. I’ll spank you so you’ll know what it feels like.”
“People don’t spank grown adults,” she argues.
I tap her nose. “In my world, grown adults can also be naughty Little girls who need their bottoms spanked.”
“Your world is weird.”
I chuckle again. “Perhaps, but you’re living in it now.
It’s your world, too.” I keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t squirm while I step to the fridge and open it.
I pull out eggs, sausage, and bread. “Is there anything you don’t like?
” I ask as I set all of this on the counter next to her and retrieve a pan.
“Broccoli.” She scrunches up her nose. “I don’t even like it when other people eat it. It stinks up the house.”
I smirk. “Noted. No broccoli in the house.”
When she flinches, I turn to look at her closer. Her eyes are wide. “Just like that? I say I don’t like broccoli, so you’re not going to cook it?”
I frown. “Why would I cook something that makes you feel sick just smelling it? That would be mean.”
She stares at me. “People are mean.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m your mate. I live to make you happy now. Broccoli is now banned from my life.”
“What if I don’t like spankings?” She cocks her head to the side, almost smiling.
I laugh. “Honest answer?”
“Of course.”
“In my experience, Little girls tend to misbehave intentionally because they love getting spanked. If for some reason, you determine you truly hate having your bottom swatted, I’d find some other way to discipline you.”
“Really?” She sits up taller.
“Yes, Little love, really.”
“Well, I’m certain I won’t like being spanked, so you can skip to option number two right now and save us both the frustration.”
This Little girl is an absolute delight. I’ve only known her name since she woke up, and already I’m enchanted. Her wit is hilarious. “Nice try, Little love.”
The sausage sizzles in the pan as soon as I drop several patties onto the hot surface. While that’s going, I pop four slices of bread into the toaster and crack eggs into a bowl.
I have a million questions, but I want to feed her first. My questions can wait until her tummy is full. In fact, her tummy growls again, so I grab a sippy cup from the cabinet, add a scoop of formula, and fill it with water.
Brea stares at me while I shake it, and she lowers her gaze to the cup when I hold it out to her. “That’s a sippy cup.”
“Yep.”
“You really take this Daddy thing seriously.”
“I do.” I give it a shake.
“Did you just put some powdered formula in it?”
“Yes, Little love. Trust me. You’ll like it. You guzzled it down several times yesterday.”
“I wasn’t even conscious.”
“True, but you were eager every time I put a nipple in your mouth. You would have balked if it hadn’t appealed to you.” I jiggle it again.
Brea slowly takes it from me.
Letting her think about it, I flip the sausages and resume scrambling the eggs.
Finally she tips the cup back and takes a drink. “Oh, that’s good.”
I grin. “Told you.”
“Why didn’t you give me pants?” she asks in an abrupt subject change.
“First of all, I don’t want to cover your wound. I want it to have air, and I want to be able to monitor it. Second of all, I’m not super fond of pants.”
“You don’t wear pants?” she blurts out.
I glance down. Currently I’m still wearing boxers. I glance at her, enjoying her wit more by the minute. “On women, naughty.”
“What if I prefer pants?” she challenges.
I remove the sausages from the pan and turn the burner down so I can slide over and address my mate more directly.
With my hands on her hips, I look her in the eyes again.
“Brea, you’re welcome to challenge me every step of the way.
I’m sure you’re skeptical. You have no experience with lion shifters or the way my bite affects you.
I’m a patient man. You will never anger me.
In fact, I find I like the way you spar with me.
We’ll tackle every topic one at a time. If you truly hate dresses, I’ll buy you shorts and pants, Little love. Okay?”
She gives a slight nod. “I’ve never worn dresses.”
I flinch. “Never?”
“Well, maybe when I was a toddler. I don’t remember. I’ve been a tomboy ever since I was old enough to pick up a stick and play in the dirt with my brothers.”
“Brothers?” The questions I have are mounting.
“Three of them. Jason, Kyle, and Gabe. I was the youngest.”
“Where are they now?”
Her face falls, and she looks down. “I don’t know.”
“What’s your surname, Little love?” I ask gently, trying to coax more information out of her.
“Reynolds.”
I have questions about her odd comment about not knowing where her brothers are, but we’ll come back to that.
I kiss her forehead and move back to the pan.
Pouring the eggs in slowly, I keep an eye on my mate.
There was obviously a time when she had a good relationship with her brothers.
She smiled when she spoke of playing in the dirt.
But something changed. She doesn’t even know where they are?
While the eggs cook, I butter the toast and then carry everything to the table.
Lastly, I lift Brea from her perch on the counter, enjoying the way she wraps her legs around me as I move her to the booster seat I’ve attached to one chair.
She giggles when I set her panty-clad bottom on the seat. “Seriously? A booster seat?”
After buckling her in, I scoot her up to the table.
“Yes, shorty. Have you noticed all of my furniture is custom made? Lion shifters tend to be taller and bigger than humans. I’m six-seven.
All of the men in my pride are about the same height.
Any of the furniture in our homes that is made of wood, we customized ourselves.
With the booster seat, the table is just at the right height. ”
She places her hands on the surface. “I guess you’re right, but I’m not sure how I feel about all this babyish stuff you own. And I’m not clumsy. I don’t need to be buckled in.”
I tip her chin back with two fingers. “Keeping you safe is always going to be my top priority. Don’t argue with Daddy about matters of safety. I’d have a heart attack if you fell off the chair and hit your head on the floor. Humor me.”
She sighs. “Okay…”
“Good girl.”
This makes her smile. And making her smile is my life’s goal.