“Sex,” I shout.
He wraps his arm around me and kisses my temple. “You are so fun and easy to tease.”
I shove at him. “But you will have sex with me?”
He taps his lips as though thinking. “Hmm. Let me ask you this.”
This ought to be good. I lift my brows.
“If I were to throw you over my shoulder, carry you to bed, strip both of us naked, fuck you ten ways to Sunday, and it was amazing, and the roof caught on fire, would you then skip into the living room like a good girl and accept all the gifts I bought you without complaint?”
Gah. He’s so infuriating. “Sex isn’t everything, Blade. What if I fart in my sleep or snore? What if I have some nasty habit like chewing on my toenails, or I secretly want to lick your feet?”
He laughs. Hard. So hard he has to put his hand over his chest. “Naughty girl.” He points at the computer. “First, we’re going to order food so we don’t starve. Then, we’re going to open boxes until we find some adorable nighties for you. After that, you’re going to put one on and take a nap. You don’t have to make any major decisions except whether or not you want to have water or juice in your sippy cup.”
“Blade… Be serious.”
“I am, honey.” He kisses my temple again. “Deadly serious.”
“I don’t take naps.”
He grins. “You do now. Little girls need naps. You’ve had a stressful morning. After you nap, you can either sit in the living room and stare at the rest of those boxes until curiosity eats you alive, or you can open them. Your choice.”
I groan. “I’m never going to win an argument with you, am I?”
“Nope.”
Seventeen
Blade
* * *
I don’t play fair. I know exactly which packages I want her to open first.
After we place a grocery order, I settle her on the couch, pretend to randomly choose a few packages, and sit next to her.
She’s leery, but she’s also struggling to contain her excitement. I suspect it’s been a while since someone bought her anything. This room is filled with boxes. Plus, more are coming this afternoon, and even more tomorrow. I don’t tell her that, though.
I can’t be sure how she’s going to react to any of this, so I’m holding my breath while she opens the first package. She pulls out three nighties. There are even more around here somewhere. I figured she would need to rest a lot for the next few weeks, so nighties were a priority.
Daytime priority. I’m going to hold her naked at night. I meant that. But when she naps, she can wear comfy nighties.
She lifts the first one so she can see it. Her breath hitches while I say a silent prayer in my head. I won’t force anything on her. Not ever. There’s no way to be sure what age range she might enjoy, but I have my suspicions.
I watch her expression while she stares at the pastel-blue nightie. Finally, she glances at me. Her eyes are watery, and her lip trembles. I think this is a good sign, but if everything she opens makes her cry, the apartment is going to flood.
“You were serious about wanting me to be your Little girl,” she whispers.
“Yes, honey. Did you think I made all that up?”
She glances at the dozens of packages and boxes. “Is all of this for age play?”
“Yes.” She’s got me hanging by the balls here.
She looks back at the nightgown and then brings it to her face, closes her eyes, and rubs her cheek with the cotton material. “I’ve never had a princess nightie,” she whispers.
My heart stops. That hadn’t occurred to me.
