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The hope of that is too painful to bear, so I deliberately force it out of my mind to focus on the much more immediate issue at hand. Namely, the conversation going on above me as Millie instructs my stepbrother to spread my bottom cheeks with one hand as he dips the thermometer into a vat of Vaseline with the other.
Humiliation floods me, heating every inch of my skin as he exposes my asshole to the room. The one part of me I’ve never allowed a man to touch. Just the thought of putting something there never appealed to me, and I am not a woman accustomed to doing things that do not appeal, at least on some level.
But now, here I am, naked over my brother’s lap with that forbidden part of me on full display as he prods it with something wet and cold. The second the thermometer touches my skin, every part of me tenses in response and I shake my head wildly since it’s the only part of me I can currently move. “Oh, Daddy, no! Please take my temperature the right way, I swear I’ll be a good girl forever!”
“Shh, princess. Relax your bottom so it doesn’t hurt as much.” His chest vibrates with low laughter. “Or don’t and let me hurt you. I’m honestly fine either way but I assume you do have a preference.”
Of course I have a fucking preference. Which would be pretty much anything but what’s actually happening to me right now.
Since that’s clearly not an option, I close my eyes and drag in as deep of a breath as I can manage from my position over his knee, and try to find my happy place. Which, somewhat ironically, happens to be that little cafe in Paris. Memories fill my mind, of Jasper seated across from me at the table, his head thrown back in laughter at some quip I’ve made. The crowds passing by the window, so sleek and fashionable, other than the tourists which we make a game of trying to figure out where people are from based on their clothes and how utterly confused they look as they check their phones for directions.
Only now, the memory becomes less and less of a memory as it continues. Because now, even in my mind, I’m not wearing the latest fashions, fresh off the runway. I’m wearing one of Solene’s dresses, a deep blue number covered in silver stars and matching silver shoes. And Jasper… he’s still the same, mostly. Only now there’s a look in his eye. An affection that definitely was not there in my memories.
Emotion clogs my throat as the image solidifies in my mind and I’m struck by how badly I want that exact scene to play out in real life. To have my brother look at me, his eyes so full of love and approval and pride it makes my chest ache.
I’m so distracted by the new “memory”, I barely feel the thermometer slide into my bottom. There’s no pain, only a slight pressure that makes me whimper softly as he gives the infernal thing a gentle twist.
“Such a good little princess,” he croons. “You’re doing such a good job for me, baby. Can you keep being good for just a little while longer? I promise we’ll be done here soon.”
His praise warms me from the inside, as much as I don’t want it to. “O-okay, Daddy.”
“And then we can go home and you can have a bit of a nap before we get ready for dinner. Complete with the special dessert Chef Michael is whipping up for us. How does that sound, princess?”
It… honestly doesn’t sound that bad, actually. Except for the nap part, though I have a feeling I’ll be ready for one after everything he’s laid out. Especially if he gives me another one of those yummy orgasms like he did this morning.
But I’ve learned my lesson about arguing, at least for now, so I just nod. “Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s my girl. And that’s the timer. We’re all done with your temperature, princess. See? It wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No, Daddy.” The humiliation was really the worst part of it, all things considered, though I am still very grateful when he pulls the thermometer from my bottom and helps me to sit up on his lap again.
Millie, who has stayed silent through this entire ordeal, beams at the glass tube in her hand. “Ninety-seven-point-nine. Nearly perfect.”
“Hear that, princess?” Pulling me close, Jasper presses a kiss to my hair. “You’re perfect.”
“She saidnearlyperfect,” I remind him, though my heart is swelling with pride anyway.
“Who cares what that silly thermometer says. You’re still perfect to me.”
For a brief moment, I actually believe him. And for a brief moment, I allow myself to believe that maybe being Jasper Blackwood’s baby wouldn’t be such a bad fate after all. Nobodyhas ever held me with such tenderness or showered me with such praise, and I can already tell I’m becoming addicted to his words.
But then the door to the exam room opens, and a foreboding man with a head full of salt-and-pepper hair steps inside. When he smiles, there is no warmth in the gesture, and I find myself curling up against my brother’s chest in an attempt to hide from this strange, dreadful man.
“Hello, little one. I’m Doctor D.”
Jasper
In my arms, Juliet trembles, curling into me with a soft whimper of fear. Not that I can blame her. Doctor D is an imposing figure even on his best days.
Which is, of course, part of the reason we selected him for our island. We need someone as firm and strict as the rest of us to ensure our little ones’ continued obedience. There is a time and place for a kind doctor with a gentle touch.
The island is not that place.
Still, I can’t help the stir of pity in my chest as Juliet clings to me. Or the swell of pride I feel, knowing it’s me she’s turning to when she’s afraid. Not that there are any other options available to her, but knowing she’s seeking comfort in her Daddy’s arms rather than standing on her own as she has done for so much of her life makes me feel even more possessive toward her than I already did.
“Say hello to Doctor D,” I prod gently, keeping my tone soft and soothing for the time being. If she wants to see me as her savior, I’m in no rush to disabuse her of this notion.
“Hello.” Her voice is barely a whisper, tremulous with a hint of fear I’ve yet to be able to instill in her myself. Which is exactly why we chose the man we did for this particular job.