Page 62 of Double Daddies
She startled at his voice. “I can’t sleep in there, Daddy,” she said softly. “Every time I open my eyes, those pink sashes look like a giant spider ready to jump on me and weave them around me like a web.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll be quiet, I promise. I won’t even move, but can I please sleep with you, Daddy?”
His heart swelled at her choice to come to him rather than Damian, who had been notably gentler in their interactions. Perhaps she instinctively understood that beneath his stern exterior lay an equally nurturing soul.
“Normally, I would consider this manipulation, but since the circumstances are somewhat... different…” He studied her face. “Very well, babygirl, as long as this doesn’t become the norm. You will sleep where we tell you, is that understood?”
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy.”
Closing his eyes, Drake pretended to drift off. After five minutes of near-silent breathing, her hesitant voice broke the quiet. “Daddy... may I... I still can’t sleep. Would you hold me, please?”
Now, how the hell was he supposed to say no to that?
His heart melted at the vulnerability in her request. Reaching for her, he pulled her into his arms, chuckling at her surprised gasp when she realized he was naked.
“I suggest you stay still, babygirl, unless you’re prepared to wake the ‘one-eyed monster’ and feed it,” he warned when she peeked at him through her lashes. The decadent bouquet of her arousal that drifted to tease his senses alerted him to how she was about to react. There was nothing he’d like more than to fuck her senseless, but as with everything in her transition, that too would happen at the right time and the right place.
“He’s famished, and once Daddy Damian hears your cries and pleas, his Junior D would wake and demand to be fed as well.”
“Good grief, you named them the Double D as well?” She giggled, then quickly stilled as he shifted her closer, making her aware of the swelling of his cock.
Drake laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. The confusion and trust mingling in her eyes soothed his soul. Their Little was adapting far quicker than anticipated, and he couldn’t be more pleased.
That she had chosen him, the strict, punishing Daddy, to seek comfort from in the dark of night only cemented his certainty that she was meant to be theirs.
Chapter Seventeen
DD Estate, Dreamer’s Cove
Elle
Eyes flickering, Elle slowly awakened to sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains. “Damn the man.” Mumbling, she registered the white bars of her crib and the haze of pink chiffon drapes overhead. Everything she didn’t expect to wake up to this morning. It most definitely wasn’t Drake’s warm chest beneath her cheek or his strong arms cuddling her close.
Pushing up on her elbows, she scanned the nursery.
“They truly created a paradise… if I was a baby,” she said with a whimsical smile, envisioning sitting on the rocking chair with a little baby in her arms, all snuggled up in a pink onesie. She had always believed she would be a mother by the age of thirty, but concentrating on the success of the bakery had taken precedence over finding the right man to father her children. Now, that same yearning flooded her mind as she gazed at the pastel walls, plush animals, and the beautiful ocean view through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Drake had carried her back here sometime in the night, depositing her in this glorified cage instead of letting her remain curled against him until morning.
“Damn him.” The whispered curse once again escaped before she could catch it. Her palm pressed against her chest, where an unwelcome ache bloomed. “It shouldn’t matter this much.”
But it did matter. Their gentle touches, stern commands, and heated looks were slowly making their way deeper under her defenses. Drake especially had a way of awakening a yearning for things she had no business wanting.
“Keep focused, Elle. Remember, this isn’t real,” Elle said firmly. “You’re playing a role. Nothing more.”
The nursery’s warmth suddenly turned stifling as reality stirred awake.
“I need air.” And out of these infantile clothes, the room, and the mansion that threatened to suffocate her with false security and dangerous promises.
Frantically, she climbed out of the crib and went in search of her suitcases. Not surprisingly, they were nowhere to be found.
“Oh, thank fuck!” Relief flooded her when she discovered a shelf that didn’t consist of babydoll dresses. Quickly stripping off the onesie and diaper, she donned the shorts and t-shirt like armor.
“Running. Yes. It’ll help to clear my head,” she muttered as she laced up the running shoes. It was her daily ritual, the activity that anchored her and where she created new designs in her head for delicate pastries.
Elle winced at the slight creak as she opened the nursery door. The hallway stretched empty before her, but voices drifted up from somewhere below. Her heart rate picked up as she eased out, pressing close to the wall. The thick carpet muffled her footsteps as she crept toward the stairs.
Pausing at the top, she held her breath and listened. The voices grew clearer. The deep tones warned her it was Drake and Damian in what sounded like their home office. A maid carrying fresh linens passed through the foyer below. Elle waited until she disappeared before beginning her descent, taking each step with careful precision.
The front door was too risky since it would be visible from the office. “The French doors in the living room,” she whispered as she hugged the wall and tiptoed across the marble floor. “They open onto the veranda if I remember correctly.”
