Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 147967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Sweet and girly.
He didn’t think it would be his girl’s style, exactly, but it was extremely cute.
In addition to a bed there was also an oversized crib. He wondered how young Maya would regress. If she even knew how young she would regress to. Because he figured she might not have ever had the chance to explore her Little.
It seemed she liked Lego, but that didn’t help him judge anything else she liked.
He’d left her box of Lego in a cupboard in the living room. Maybe he should bring it in here.
His girl was kneeling on a pink rug on the floor and studying some books on a bookshelf next to a desk. She pulled one out and looked at something written inside the front cover.
He thought about sneaking out of the room . . . but this seemed like an ideal opportunity to talk to her.
Matthieu cleared his throat and she jumped, turning around and falling back onto her bottom.
“You gave me a fright!” she complained with her hand on her chest.
“Sorry, Bébé,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” She jumped to her feet and wobbled slightly. He moved forward and grabbed hold of her hips. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to pry or anything. Was this a child’s room?”
“A child? I think you know it’s not a child’s room. The crib is rather large, don’t you think?”
She bit her lip, glancing at the oversized crib. “Um, yes. It’s a room for a Little, right?”
“Right.”
She winced. “And I’m in here. I shouldn’t be. This is a very private space. I’m surprised they don’t lock the door.”
“Actually, the owner of this cabin never comes here anymore. He lost his wife who was also his Little.”
“This was her playroom,” she whispered sadly.
“Yes.”
“We still shouldn’t be in here.”
“I don’t know . . . maybe this is a room that deserves to be used.”
“But wouldn’t . . . I mean . . . it should be a Little who . . . who uses this place. Right?”
“Right. A Little should use this place. Would you like to use it?”
She gaped at him.
“You can say no,” he told her. “But don’t lie and don’t say no because you’re scared of what I will think of you. Because I will always think you are amazing. And wonderful. And sweet. And as a Daddy Dom myself, I would be pleased to help you with whatever you need.”
“You’re a Daddy Dom?”
“I am. Although I prefer to be called Papa.”
“I should have guessed. You’re rather bossy and you think you always know what’s right, plus you love rules and consequences.”
He grinned. “Is that what you think a Daddy Dom is? Someone who is bossy, thinks they’re always right, and loves rules and consequences?”
“Well, yeah.”
He huffed out a laugh and then let go of her hips before taking her hand and leading her to the bed. He had her sit on the side of the bed before he kneeled in front of her. In this position, he hoped she wouldn’t feel as intimidated.
Then he took hold of her hands. They were cold and he wrapped his large hands around hers.
“Have you ever had a Daddy Dom before?” he asked even though he had asked her that before. But he was certain she didn’t remember that.
“No. Never.” A flush of red filled her face before it drained away and left her pale. “How did you know? Did I . . . did I give it away?”
“There were a few things. Sometimes, when you’re tired, you’d let things slip. You’d speak in a Little voice. You slept with a stuffed toy. It was in the way you reacted when I would call you a Little girl or a good girl. And I also found your box of Lego.”
Her gaze narrowed as she glared down at him. “You went searching in my closet?”
“I didn't,” he replied firmly. “Butch was looking for your dolphin and he thought he might be able to get you some clothes. He found the box of Lego. It looked like some of it was half-built.”
“I built a village in the spare bedroom,” she told him. “The one I had to clear out so you could stay there. I didn’t have a lot of time, so I just shoved it all in a box. And then I couldn’t get it out to fix it.”
Poor Bébé. She looked so sad.
“Perhaps we can fix it together,” he suggested.
She bit her lip and for a moment, she looked so hopeful that he thought she would say yes.
To his surprise, she shook her head. “No thanks. I better go and check on Tank.” She tried to slide away.
But he wasn’t letting her go that easily.
“Why not?” he asked. “Is it because you don’t want me to be your Papa?”