Page 11 of Daddy Dreadful (Forbidden Pleasures Island #5)

Chapter Ten

Millie

Nothing, and I mean nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greets me next. Not only is the closet larger than my bedroom in my old apartment over the doctor’s office, it’s stuffed full of clothes.

And not just any clothes. Beautiful dresses like the ones I’ve seen the other Little girls on the island wearing all the time.

Dresses I’ve lusted after with envy in my heart.

Even with my room being covered as part of my employment contract and a generous food allowance, the price tag on those dresses had threatened to send me into heart failure.

So I’d only ever looked from afar, and dreamed of a day when I might own even one of Solene’s beautiful creations.

Now… Now I own an entire closet full of them. Or at least, Doctor D does. But at the moment that’s an insignificant detail because I know in my bones these dresses were designed with me in mind.

“Which dress do you want to wear today, little one?”

Overcome by the beauty around me, I reach out, reverently running my hands over a pale blue dress covered in white roses. “They’re all so pretty. I don’t want to ruin them.”

“I bought them for you to wear. If they get ruined, Solene will fix them.”

Beside the blue dress is one in a gorgeous shade of green with butterfly wings stitched onto the back. I want to wear that dress more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire life.

And why shouldn’t I? If I’m going to be trapped here against my will, shouldn’t I get something out of it?

The more logical part of my brain is aware that I’m just making excuses for myself, but I don’t care. Running my fingers over the pretty green dress, I turn my head to meet Donovan’s serious gaze.

“This one. Please?”

An emotion that almost looks like joy lights his eyes, turning the normally muddy brown to gold. “Of course, little one. Whatever you want.”

Whatever I want. This is the side of him I’ve never seen before, the indulgent Daddy I’ve always wanted, and my heart stutters a bit at the unexpected bit of sweetness.

Plucking the dress from the mass of colorful tulle, he carries me back to the nursery. A fresh wave of humiliation heats my cheeks when he lays me out on the changing table again as I remember the way he mercilessly fucked my mouth on this table less than an hour ago.

But he doesn’t mention it, and I do my best not to think about how thoroughly I was punished as he wraps a clean diaper around me.

When I’m freshly diapered again, he sits me up to pull the dress over my head, and when he helps me down from the table I immediately rush over to the full-length mirror and twirl, giggling at the way the dress billows out around me.

“You look adorable, little one. But you need to eat breakfast, and then Daddy will do your hair for you.”

Daddy . That single word strips away whatever pleasure I found in the dress. Looking at my reflection, my stomach rolls at the sight of the stunning creation I’m only wearing because he bought it for me. Because Donovan Graves has decided, without any input from me, that he is my new Daddy.

“Not hungry,” I mutter, turning away from the mirror to flounce over to the giant doll house at the far end of the nursery.

Deliberately ignoring Donovan’s presence, and the way my heart pounds erratically in my chest the closer he gets, I pick up one of the dolls and pretend to walk her up the stairs.

“You haven’t eaten anything since before the event last night. You need to eat, little one.”

My heart is beating so loudly now I can actually hear it pounding through my veins as I continue ignoring him in favor of my dolls.

“Camilla Joy. Put those toys down right now.”

Nope. Not gonna happen.

“All right, then.”

Before I can even blink, I’m back up in his arms and he’s carrying me to the closet again. Crossing the wide space to a tall dresser, he opens a drawer and pulls out a t-shirt.

My own curiosity gets the better of me as he carries me back to the changing table. “What are you doing?”

His expression is all disappointed Daddy and even though I try to tell myself I don’t care, my heart constricts at the sight. “Little girls who don’t listen to their Daddies don’t get to wear pretty dresses.”

Tears burn my eyes as he strips the dress from me and replaces it with a t-shirt that barely covers my tummy. Looking down, I inhale sharply at the single word scrawled across the front in red, glittery font.

Naughty .

I don’t want to be naughty. Deep down, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a good girl. And even after all he’s put me through, the choices he’s stripped from me, the thought of being truly bad makes my stomach hurt so badly I feel like I might be sick.

Placing a finger under my chin, Donovan gently nudges my head up. Even through my tears, I can see how disappointed he really is in my behavior, and I nearly give into the urge to apologize, to tell him I’ll be a good girl forever, and to beg to wear my pretty green dress.

“Despite what you may think of me, Camilla, I don’t want to spend all my time punishing you.

I will, if you force my hand. But I really do want you to be happy here with me.

So if you can be a good girl for me through breakfast, you can change back into your pretty dress after you’ve eaten.

But if you continue to fight me and defy me, you will wear your naughty girl shirt all day. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” I manage to whisper, my voice strained from the tears I’m holding at bay.

He smiles, the gesture looking so out of place on his face I have to blink to make sure I’m actually seeing it correctly. “That’s my good girl. Come. I heard a rumor that Chef Madeline made waffles just for a certain Little girl this morning.”

“Waffles? Really?” Excitement chases away some of the yucky feelings and I bounce in place on the changing table. “I love waffles!”

Laughing, he plucks me off the table and settles me on his hip. “I know. Waffles with too much syrup and too much whipped cream are your favorite food.”

The fact that he knows my favorite color, my favorite food, seemingly my favorite everything puts a significant chip in the walls I’m desperately trying to keep erected around my heart. Knowing he’s paid such close attention to me, that he’s noticed things nobody before him has bothered to notice…

I don’t want it to make me happy. I don’t want to feel this warm glow in my chest as he straps me into my highchair and feeds me bites of my favorite food in the whole wide world.

But with every bite, he knocks down another brick in those walls around my heart. I’m going to have to find a way to build them back up, before I find myself falling for the last man on earth I have any business wanting.

Donovan

Camilla is absolutely adorable, seated in her highchair in a shirt that barely covers her plump breasts and leaves a hint of her round tummy bare, with a smear of whipped cream on her cheek. This moment right here is everything I’ve ever wanted, and I can hardly believe it’s real.

Picking up my napkin, I wipe the cream from her face, allowing myself a moment to linger, to savor the sweet moment between us.

Given how stubborn my Little girl is proving to be, I’m not sure when I’ll have another opportunity to simply enjoy her being my baby.

So I soak it in while I can, enjoying her good mood while it lasts.

Sliding the last bite of waffle into her mouth, I reward her with a bright smile. “What a good girl you are, finishing your breakfast. Let’s get you cleaned up and then Daddy has a surprise for you.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t fight me as I use a wet wipe to clean the stickiness from her face and hands. As much as I enjoy punishing my naughty girl, I meant what I said earlier. I really do want her to be happy here.

With that in mind, I grab the bottle from the cooler on the table and rise to carry my Little girl over to the glider in her nursery.

But a flash of blue catches my eye, and a I make a detour to her crib to grab her dragon.

After all she’s been through this morning, I figure she could use a bit of comfort.

And knowing how attached she is to her stuffie, if I can win over Cobalt, I can win over my Little girl.

I know it’s the right move when her eyes light up and she holds him tight against her chest with a happy squeal. “Cobie!”

“I thought he might enjoy cuddling with us while you drink your bottle.”

A frown tugs at her lips. “He says that’s really nice. But you still have to call him Cobalt.”

So I’m not to be granted friend status just yet. Ah, well. I’ll get there soon enough, I’m sure.

Settling in the glider with Camilla and Cobalt on my lap, I press the rubber nipple to my Little one’s lips, and wait.

The struggle she must be feeling inside is clear on her face. Hunger fills her eyes, a hunger that has nothing to do with her tummy and everything to do with her soul. She wants this, wants to be babied and pampered and punished, even if she doesn’t necessarily want any of those things from me.

“Time for your bottle, little one.” I keep my voice light, cajoling rather than demanding. If I try to force this on her, she will no doubt rebel simply because I am the one asking it of her.

Her gaze flicks from the bottle to my face, and I have to swallow a laugh at how adorably tortured she looks. Stubborn little brat, depriving herself of something she so clearly wants just to spite me.

But after a few minutes, her own desires win out and she parts her lips for the bottle. My heart does a slow roll in my chest as I slide the nipple into her mouth and she takes the first greedy gulp of milk.

“Good girl. Can you show Daddy what a big girl you are and hold your bottle?”

Obediently, she lifts her hands to grip the bottle as she continues to suckle the tip. With my hands free, I slide one into the waistband of her diaper until my fingers brush against the wetness I knew I’d find there.

In my arms, Camilla stiffens but doesn’t fight me. Her eyes widen slightly, fear and desire whirling in the bright blue as I run my fingertips over the swollen nub of her clit.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, Camilla,” I praise her in that same cooing tone. “And good girls who do as their Daddy says get rewarded. Would you like your reward now, little one?”

Another hesitation, though much shorter than when she was debating accepting the bottle, and then a slow nod as she continues to drink.

Smiling down at her, I press harder on her clit, slowly rolling it beneath my fingertips.

“I can’t wait to see what a pretty mess you make when you shatter for me, Camilla.

You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this exact moment. ”

As I work her toward that peak, she whimpers and whines around the tip of the bottle, her eyes going glassy and her hips rocking against my hand.

“Such a filthy little baby you are.” Shaking my head, I chuckle softly and stroke that bundle of nerves even more deliberately. “My naughty, dirty Little girl, so desperate to come in her diaper. Come for Daddy, little one.”

It’s almost as if she was waiting for my command. As soon as the words leave my mouth, she arches up with a cry, bucking and writhing on my lap as the orgasm crashes over her.

Slowing my movements, I gently stroke her gushing pussy, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from the moment until she collapses again in my arms, gasping and panting around the bottle.

“That was beautiful, little one.” Pulling my hand from her diaper, I grip the bottle and lean down, pressing my lips to her forehead. “Daddy’s so proud of you, Camilla.”

Planting my foot on the floor, I push off and the glider begins to rock. And as my Little girl drifts off to sleep in my arms, I find myself humming an old familiar tune.

Perfection. That’s what she is. My perfect Little girl, finally where she belongs.