“Of course not. You can be a brat at the best of times. I expect your Little is no different.”
That was where he could well be wrong. She wasn’t a brat or if she was, it was because she was trying her best to keep people at a distance. But she wasn’t sure her Little could do that. And that was part of the reason she’d always kept her hidden.
Her Little was the softest part of her. She had to guard against getting hurt.
“But I still expect honesty. And lies between us will result in instant punishment.”
“You’re gonna punish me?” She should be horrified, right? Her heart shouldn’t be beating so fast, the idea of being taken over his knee shouldn’t feel so forbidden yet erotic.
“Urgh, I feel so messed up.”
“Hey.” He frowned as he tapped her nose. “I don’t like when you say bad things about my girl.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that she wasn’t his girl. That this was one night. But the way he spoke, it felt like so much more.
You can’t give into the dream, Eden. Because other than tonight, that’s all he’ll ever be. A dream. No, a memory.
“It’s just a headache,” she blurted out. She nearly winced as disappointment flashed across his face. He knew she was deflecting. Trying to end the deep conversation before she found herself drowning in ‘what ifs’.
What if she was normal?
What if she was whole rather than broken?
What if she could give him what he needed and in return, get everything she’d ever desired?
What if this could go further than tonight?
The ‘what ifs’ would kill her. So she had returned to his original question.
“That’s no good, baby girl.” Those words slid through her, both soothing and slashing her insides to pieces. “Do you get headaches often?” His hand had slid around to the back of her neck, massaging lightly as he spoke.
A groan escaped her lips, her eyes fluttering shut.
“Occasionally.”
“You’re all tense. I have a way to help. How about I sit behind you and rub your neck and shoulders?”
“Yes, please.” He stood and then sat in the same position as he’d been in before.
“Glad this couch is so sturdy,” she joked.
“Hey, what are you saying about Daddy?” he grumbled.
“I wasn’t saying anything, Daddy,” she said with fake-innocence.
“Little brat,” he told her. But there was affection in his voice. He started gently rubbing her shoulders, digging his fingers into tight muscle. She groaned in pure bliss.
“You’re so tight. Don’t know how you sleep like this.”
She didn’t sleep. But, oh God, if he kept on, she might just fall asleep sitting up.
“I need to learn how to give you a proper massage. Don’t want to inadvertently hurt you.”
“I’m not that fragile,” she grumbled.
“I know that. But you can’t be strong all the time and you shouldn’t have to be. You’re precious to so many people, princess. You need to let us help you.”
People were always helping her. That’s what she hated about this life she led. That she was so fucking reliant on others. A burden.