Page 22 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter Nine
Double D Acquisition’s private plane, heading toward the Caribbean
Damian
Damian’s anticipation of addressing Elle’s defiance and disobedience fed off Drake’s rigid demeanor.
Drake sat ramrod straight, his calculated movements and penetrating gaze missing nothing as he surveyed the cabin.
He was the strict one who mostly took care of punishments.
Although he was also the one who tended to spoil their Littles the most, Drake did it with the same precision as he did everything in his life… by maintaining a healthy balance.
His speech patterns remained clipped and precise, as if he measured every word for maximum impact.
It might be the first day of Elle’s venture into a foreign lifestyle, but it was also important to set a precedent from early on.
Damian knew Drake wouldn’t let her transgressions go.
He couldn’t wait for the seatbelt light to go off.
Their little baker had to learn that from this point forward, for every action, there would be a reaction.
No sooner had the green light begun flashing than Drake released his safety belt, then Elle’s.
Rising, he watched her with glowing eyes.
Damian’s senses tingled as he felt her stiffen beside him.
He maintained a more relaxed stance, offering subtle gestures of reassurance toward Elle, even as he kept his dominant role intact.
“Since your role as our Little began the moment you stepped on the plane, it would be remiss of us not to guide you in the correct manner to start your journey.” Drake snapped a finger in a ‘get-up’ motion. “First, we need to address what happens to Little girls who don’t follow instructions.”
Elle’s eyes kept darting to the staff, no doubt believing the attendants and onboard staff would safeguard her from punishment.
Her shoulders hunched inward despite her verbal defiance.
Twisting her fingers in her lap was at odds with the successful businesswoman who had faced them down after vandalizing their helicopter a week ago.
The contradiction fascinated him. Here was a woman who commanded her own business yet displayed such endearing signs of vulnerability.
“What do you mean address?” she said with a quick glance at Damian. It soothed his ego that she already caught on that he was the more emphatic of the duo.
“You were warned what would happen before you even signed the contract, little baker.” Drake’s lips curled smugly. “Even had a taste of it before the ink flowed on the paper. Do I really need to elaborate on what it means?”
“Here?” Again, she looked around. “Now?”
“Not here. In the informal sitting room that we passed on the way.” His finger motioned her upward again.
“Let me offer a fair warning, little one,” Damian interjected when she stubbornly remained seated.
“Neither of us likes to repeat an instruction, but Drake? Well, he takes personal affront when a Little chooses to ignore him… especially repeatedly.” He nudged her gently. “I suggest you get up, Elle.”
Grumbling under her breath, she stood and fidgeted with her fingers.
It was endearing, but beneath her professional exterior, fragments of the little one emerged in the way she chewed her lip when nervous and how her hand instinctively reached for comfort before she caught herself.
Yet she stood in front of Drake with her spine steel straight.
She was a fascinating puzzle of strength and submission.
Damian chuckled as Drake pointed to the floor. It seemed his partner intended to push every one of Elle’s buttons long before they landed.
“On the floor, little vandal.” His deep voice resonated through the cabin.
“You will crawl ahead of us.” He smiled as her head snapped up so quickly to glare at him, Damian feared she might have slipped a disk.
“Not to worry. You won’t get lost. There’s only one hallway, and it leads directly there. ”
“I’m not worried about getting lost,” she sneered as she glanced over her shoulder at the two attendants busy in the kitchenette. “There are people here!”
“Indeed, there are,” Drake agreed readily, his gaze fixed on her. “People who wouldn’t raise an eyebrow if I strip you naked right here and we fuck you to Kingdom come, sandwiched between us.”
“S-Sandwiched?” Her voice floated in a thin, breathless whisper from her lips. Damian caught Drake’s eyes. It was rather telling that she chose to latch on being sandwiched between them, rather than being fucked to Kingdom come in full view of the staff.
“You’re a baker,” Drake drawled. “Surely, I don’t need to define the meaning of a sandwich?”
“Very funny,” she snapped but visibly squared her shoulders and tilted her chin higher. “I will walk, thank you very much. I’m not a little baby and refuse to crawl anywhere.”
“Ah, but therein you’re mistaken, Elle,” Damian said with glee. “You are a little baby… our own little baby girl.”
Elle’s eyes widened as the reality of her situation slowly began to sink in. He could see the Q&A session swirling in her brain in the rapid blinking of her eyes.
“You’re not seriously telling me you’re intending to treat me like a young girl…
a toddler?” Elle’s hands flew up in disbelief as she gestured around.
“Even in public?” Her eyes blazed with indignation as she stared them down.
“What woman in her right mind would ever agree to being humiliated like that?”
“Humiliated is a harsh word, Elle, especially in light of the fact that our intention is to take care of you and all your needs. Physically and emotionally.” Drake’s voice softened.
“We want to be the ones who ensure you’re nourished, rested, and protected.
The ones who catch you when you stumble, guide you when you’re lost, and celebrate your victories.
The ones who make sure you never have to carry life’s burdens alone again.
” He stepped closer, his presence commanding yet gentle.
“We’ll be your safe harbor, little one. Your guardians who’ll cherish and cultivate every part of who you are.” Drake showed more restraint and patience than Damian had expected, using words carrying a sacred promise.
Damian smiled as Elle’s eyes flickered, which he hoped indicated her understanding of the lifestyle.
Being their Little wasn’t about diminishing her independence.
They were providing the unconditional support and guidance she had lost when her parents died.
It was about creating a space where she could lay down her armor and trust completely in their care.
He sighed as her expression shifted. She was clearly too angry to let Drake’s words sink in.
“I have taken care of all my needs myself for my entire life… from my fourteenth year, as a matter of fact.” She spoke with less vehemence but still refused to let go of her inhibitions as she continued, “I most definitely don’t need two grown-ass vintage billionaires to pretend to know what my needs are. ”
“Vintage?” This time, Drake’s eyebrow arched upward.
Elle took a step back, mistaking the action as anger, whereas Damian struggled to keep his laughter back.
Drake was loving her defiance, and he knew it would trigger the darker side of his partner.
The little baker was digging her own hole, even without them giving her a spade.
“I did my own research,” she responded with a snippy snort. “You’re almost fifty, and he’s three years younger than you—ancient against my just-breached thirty years.”
“And yet, you still committed to be exactly what you are scorning.” Drake’s gravelly voice trumped through the room. “Are you reneging on the contract, Miss Fitzgerald?”
Damian’s eyes narrowed as her lower lip jutted forward. The pout was a classic move. One he had seen countless times from Littles trying to avoid consequences. His palm itched with the need to correct this behavior before it became a habit. Drake, however, beat him to it.
Crack!
“Oww! Fucking hell!” Elle cried as Drake’s large hand connected with her buttocks. “What was that for?” Her voice wavered as she rubbed the spot indignantly.
“That, little one, was for attempting to manipulate us.” Drake’s tone carried steel beneath its velvet.
“A pout is nothing more than a calculated plea for leniency. We’re your Daddies now, which means we see right through such tactics.
” He crossed his arms. “Every pout will earn you a swift correction—from both of us. This isn’t negotiable. ”
Damian stepped forward, his expression stern but controlled. “From this point forward, we expect clear communication. No pouting, no manipulation. You’ll behave like the baby girl you signed up to be.” His voice softened slightly. “We’ll always listen when you express yourself properly.”
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe, Damian,” she responded, maintaining the sultry look.
“There is no more Drake and Damian,” he warned in a gravelly voice. “From now on, you will call us Daddy.”
“I will most definitely not!” she all but screeched, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“You most assuredly will,” Drake growled, finality rife in each syllable.
“Time’s a-wastin’ with this endless chattering.
” He gestured to the floor. “Now,” Drake continued, his eyes darkening with authority, “on your knees and crawl, or your punishment is going to escalate much faster than even I believed was possible.”
Damian narrowed his eyes in warning as she darted a look at him, making her realize that she wouldn’t find solace with him, either. She surprised both of them by wordlessly dropping to the floor and starting to crawl.
Elle scrambled forward on hands and knees like a startled kitten, her movements quick and uncoordinated.
Her elbows knocked together as she practically sprinted on all fours, blonde hair bouncing with each determined thrust forward.
It was clear she had no experience with this form of movement, making her hasty retreat all the more amusing.
This time, Damian couldn’t hold back his laughter, and neither could Drake as they watched her move like an energized bunny… fast and furious. He wasn’t sure if it was to get away from them or to get to the lounge area where there were no prying eyes.