Page 73 of Double Daddies
Elle hugged her knees to her chest as her mind drifted back to those possessive touches. Each caress had marked her, and not just physically, but deeper, in ways that made her breath catch even now. Their hands had branded her skin with unspoken promises, and their kisses sealed invisible contracts of belonging.
Last night wasn’t just about passion. Every touch was measured and spoke of ownership, of two Daddies who saw her as theirs to cherish.
“The Double D Daddies’ cravings… that’s what it is. Their sole aim is to mold their own perfect Little.” The words tasted dangerous on her tongue. The concept terrified her. Being claimed meant being seen, truly seen. Being possessed meantsurrendering control and trusting them to catch her when she fell.
Her fingers trembled as she traced the fading marks on her inner thighs. The remaining evidence of their shared passion. But it was the invisible marks they had left that scared her the most. They had slipped past her defenses like they weren’t even there and had read her deepest desires before she could even voice them.
This wasn’t just about signing a contract anymore. This was about giving herself over completely, letting them reshape her world until it revolved around their rules and their discipline.
Most of all, their love.
“Love,” she scoffed, but the word echoed in her chest like a bell toll. That’s what made this dangerous and mocked her continued claim of pretense. It wasn’t the sex or their dominance. No, it was the tender moments in between that threatened to tear down every wall she had built to survive the three months.
Elle pressed her palms against her eyes. “This isn’t what I signed up for. I was supposed to stay detached, keep my head clear, but look at me—within days, I’m as confused as a chameleon on a painting.”
Glancing around the nursery again, she took in all the careful thought and planning that had gone into preparing it for her. Flashes of things they had said in the past brought full realization. This had been planned for a long time… much longer than she had known them.
“They want forever. They want all of me.”
The scariest part wasn’t that they wanted it. It was that some part of her wanted to give it to them.
“I see our little babygirl is finally awake?”
Elle’s gaze snapped to the doorway as Drake’s deep voice penetrated her brooding thoughts. Both men filled the doorwith their muscular frames radiating controlled power, but what caught her attention was the joy lighting their faces after last night’s intimacy.
Her heart swelled with warmth spreading through her. She had put that look there, but instead of reciprocating, anger surged through her veins. Anger at herself for letting them destroy her defenses and anger at making her feel things she shouldn’t… Love.
No!The word ricocheted through her mind like a bullet.Not love. Never love.Love was for fairy tales and happy endings, not for contractual arrangements masquerading as submission. Yet her traitorous heart fluttered at the sight of them, remembering their tender touches and complete possession.It can’t be love. No one falls in love that quickly… and sure as hell, not with two men at the same time!
“She needed a little extra sleep, Daddy Drake, especially since she did so well last night.”
“Of course, I did,” she spat, letting rage mask the vulnerability threatening to crack her voice. “I mean, it was either be a good Little or have my ass whipped.”
“Hmm,” Drake grunted. “Kinda the reaction I expected.”
Elle glowered at him. “Oh really? Pray tell, Daddy dear, exactly how did you expect how I’d react? Do you have a magic ball telling the future?”
“You’re skating on thin ice, Elle.” For once, Damian’s voice sounded dangerous.
“The fucking ice already cracked the day I walked in here.” Elle was shocked at the words coming from her mouth, but she didn’t seem to have control over it, even in the face of the two men who were visually reacting to her disrespectful attitude.
Drake took one step forward, then halted. His jaw clenched as he turned to Damian. The muscle ticking in his cheekbetrayed his barely contained rage. “You handle this, Daddy Damian. I might hurt her.”
Elle’s breath caught in her throat. Drake’s words weren’t an idle threat. They were a warning. His eyes had turned to steel and were devoid of the warmth she had basked in just hours before. She had pushed too far, letting her fear of vulnerability transform into deliberate defiance.
“No!” She thrashed as Damian lifted her from the crib, her fists bouncing ineffectively off his solid chest. “Put me down!” But even as she fought, a voice in her head whispered that she deserved this. One night of passion hadn’t earned her the right to mock their lifestyle or disrespect their rules.
The morning air hit her skin as Damian carried her onto the patio. Breakfast plates laden with fresh fruit and pastries sat untouched, evidence of the pleasant morning they had planned.
“No! What are you doing?” Horror froze her protests as he methodically stripped her bare. The casual way in which he managed her resistance made it clear her struggles meant nothing. Using the onesie, he tied her over a chair, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. To her embarrassment, Amanda sat beside Drake at the table, watching silently.
“No, please!” The first whistle of the switch made her blood run cold.
“Fuuck! OWW!” When the switch connected with her flesh, the pain was unlike anything she had experienced in their previous punishments. This wasn’t a playful spanking or even a stern reminder. This was pure discipline, and Damian, who she had never expected would be this harsh in punishing her, was whipping the hell out of her. It shocked her to the core.
“You will learn respect,” Damian’s voice carried the sharp edge of disappointment. Each word was punctuated by another burning stripe across her bottom. “We woke up this morning filled with hope and joy, with plans to show you how cherishedyou are.” The switch painted lines of fire that made her previous punishments feel like love taps. “Instead, you chose to act like a spoiled brat.”
Elle screamed as the switch fell again and again. Each strike built upon the last until her entire world contracted to the searing pain and the sound of her own sobbing. She should have known better. These men hadn’t become successful by tolerating disrespect. They hadn’t earned their billions by letting anyone, even their Little, mock their choices.
