Page 48 of Double Daddies
Damian’s eyes narrowed as her lower lip jutted forward. The pout was a classic move. One he had seen countless times from Littles trying to avoid consequences. His palm itched with the need to correct this behavior before it became a habit. Drake, however, beat him to it.
Crack!
“Oww! Fucking hell!” Elle cried as Drake’s large hand connected with her buttocks. “What was that for?” Her voice wavered as she rubbed the spot indignantly.
“That, little one, was for attempting to manipulate us.” Drake’s tone carried steel beneath its velvet. “A pout is nothing more than a calculated plea for leniency. We’re your Daddies now, which means we see right through such tactics.” He crossed his arms. “Every pout will earn you a swift correction—from both of us. This isn’t negotiable.”
Damian stepped forward, his expression stern but controlled. “From this point forward, we expect clear communication. No pouting, no manipulation. You’ll behave like the baby girl you signed up to be.” His voice softened slightly. “We’ll always listen when you express yourself properly.”
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe, Damian,” she responded, maintaining the sultry look.
“There is no more Drake and Damian,” he warned in a gravelly voice. “From now on, you will call us Daddy.”
“I will most definitely not!” she all but screeched, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“You most assuredly will,” Drake growled, finality rife in each syllable. “Time’s a-wastin’ with this endless chattering.” He gestured to the floor. “Now,” Drake continued, his eyes darkening with authority, “on your knees and crawl, or your punishment is going to escalate much faster than even I believed was possible.”
Damian narrowed his eyes in warning as she darted a look at him, making her realize that she wouldn’t find solace with him, either. She surprised both of them by wordlessly dropping to the floor and starting to crawl.
Elle scrambled forward on hands and knees like a startled kitten, her movements quick and uncoordinated. Her elbows knocked together as she practically sprinted on all fours, blonde hair bouncing with each determined thrust forward. It was clear she had no experience with this form of movement, making her hasty retreat all the more amusing.
This time, Damian couldn’t hold back his laughter, and neither could Drake as they watched her move like an energized bunny… fast and furious. He wasn’t sure if it was to get away from them or to get to the lounge area where there were no prying eyes.
Chapter Ten
Double D Acquisition’s private plane, heading toward the Caribbean
Elle
Elle found herself in the most ridiculous position of her life—crawling, for fuck’s sake!—across a private jet’s plush carpet. Her knees protested the unfamiliar movement while her dignity screamed in outrage.On all fours like some wayward toddler!
Generally, that’s what crawling means. On all fours on the floor, and technically, this is exactly what you signed up for,her inner voice chirped helpfully.
Oh, shut up!she sneered back.
The command to crawl had sparked an internal war between her pride and raw desire, a primal hunger that made her breath catch every time Drake’s eyes darkened with that particular look. The businesswoman in her was horrified at the mere suggestion, while another part—a part she really needed to have a serious talk with later—found the idea disturbingly appealing. The whole situation bordered on absurdity since here she was,a business owner, now reduced to crawling at the behest of two admittedly impressive but utterly maddening men.
And they expected me to call them Daddy.The thought almost made her laugh out loud. Almost.When hell freezes over, she continued her inner tirade.
Not that all of this came as a surprise. The contract hadn’t detailed everything, but there had been enough hints to paint a picture. Like any self-respecting person, she had done her research, dismissing half of what she found as dramatized fiction and exasperation for clickbait. Those late-night internet searches now seemed less far-fetched and more like previews of coming attractions since they corroborated what Drake had so eloquently voiced before ordering her to crawl.
“This is absolute bullshit,” she muttered under her breath, fighting the urge to look back at her newly appointedguardians. The sound of their measured footsteps behind her sent shivers down her spine. Not fear exactly, but rather more like anticipation mixed with a healthy dose of trepidation.
“How is embarrassing me in front of their staff nurturing me in any way or form, I wonder?” she mumbled as she reached the informal lounge. Her chin lifted in subtle defiance as she watched Drake and Damian settle into the plush chairs through her lashes. Of course, they did it with the ease of men accustomed to commanding any space they occupied. She was increasingly cognizant of her awkward position on the floor. She trembled with the sensation of hundreds of creepy crawlies scattering all over her skin.
Her mind raced through possible scenarios, each more outlandish than the last. The business owner in her wanted to negotiate terms, while another part, a part she wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge, felt an odd flutter of excitement at their promised care and protection. A wayward thought flashed through her mind at how she had missed that since her parents’death. None of her foster families ever truly cared about her, not like one of their own flesh and blood.
The memory of her last encounter with the two men in their office made her shift uncomfortably. They clearly meant business, and that this was just the beginning of hereducationin their particular brand of nurturing.
“I suppose this is what you would call character building.” Her sarcastic remark earned her two identical, knowing smirks and expressions that suggested they had extensive plans forbuilding her baby girl character,whether she liked it or not.
“Ah, she’s starting to see the light.” Damian’s face brightened with a lopsided grin.
Elle sat back on her heels as her mind whirled with Drake’s earlier words about taking care of all her needs. The way he had said it, all smooth authority wrapped in velvet, made her stomach do an odd little flip—not that she would ever admit that under torture.
Oh please, like you need anyone to take care of you, her inner voice scoffed. But another voice, smaller and quieter, negated her own vehement response to Drake as it whispered,Wouldn't it be nice, though? Not to have to handle everything alone?
She squashed that thought immediately. Thirty-one years of self-reliance couldn’t be undone by a couple of admittedly gorgeous men with their gilded promises, no matter how tempting they made it sound.
