Page 28 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter Fifteen
The nursery, DD Estate, Dreamer’s Cove
Elle
“Famous last words,” she grumbled to herself after dinner, her cheeks burning indignantly.
She might be pretending, but they definitely weren’t.
Drake and Damian had taken turns feeding her between bites of their own meals.
Her protests that she could feed herself had fallen on deaf ears, and each attempt to grab the fork had earned her a stern look and a sharp slap on the wrist.
“Come along, princess.” Drake’s voice was warm and inviting, so she got up without protest. A shiver tiptoed over her spine from where his hand rested on the small of her back as they guided her toward the nursery.
“You know, when I suggested the whole tomboy thing, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Elle grumbled, dragging her feet. “I was thinking more along the lines of climbing trees, swimming, and throwing stones in the lake.”
“We said we’d think about it,” Drake said gruffly. “Nothing has been decided as yet, and even when we do, certain aspects of being a Little, tomboy or not, won’t change.”
“For now, it’s bathtime,” Damian announced as they steered her through the nursery and opened a door that had Elle stopping dead in her tracks with her jaw dropping for the umpteenth time since their arrival.
Vanilla cream marble tiles stretched from floor to ceiling, with an oversized claw-foot tub positioned as the centerpiece in front of a wall of windows facing the ocean. Gold-framed mirrors adorned the walls, and plush ottomans dotted the space.
“Holy mother of all bathrooms! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you robbed a sultan’s palace.” Elle spun around, taking it all in. Her amazement quickly turned to suspicion when Drake reached for her dress buttons.
“Hell, the hell no!” she squealed as she realized their intent.
“I can bathe myself. I’ve been doing it successfully for twenty-eight years without flooding the bathroom.
.. well, mostly.” Visions of a water and bubbles-covered bathroom floor reminded her of the times she had been too eager to prove to her parents how grownup she was.
Well, in her defense, she was only three years old at the time.
“Little babygirls need their Daddies’ help,” Damian stated firmly.
“I told you I’m not ready for—” Her protests cut off as Drake efficiently unbuttoned her dress.
She tried to pry his hands away, but he sharply slapped her fingers.
She yanked them back and glared at him. “Hey! Be careful. These hands are registered weapons in the state of Texas... for baking purposes.”
“That’s enough.” Damian’s palm unexpectedly connected sharply with her bottom—twice. Two hard slaps that made her realize he could deliver stinging strikes as much as Drake. “You will behave, Elle.”
“Ow! Did you take spanking lessons from a drill sergeant? For that matter, don’t the two of you ever just reprimand without bringing out those ass paddles?”
“If you don’t start behaving, you’ll be walking around with a red bottom permanently,” Drake warned.
Elle yelped indignantly as she suddenly found herself airborne when he lifted her into the steaming, bubble-filled tub. Her eyes locked onto the bright yellow rubber ducks bobbing on the surface.
“Oh, sweet Lord, help me. You cannot be serious. What’s next? A rubber boat and a captain’s hat?”
“Actually…” Drake reached behind him.
“Don’t you dare!” Elle pointed a bubble-covered finger at him. “I swear to all that’s holy and chocolate-covered…”
“Look, this one squeaks.” Damian demonstrated with childlike enthusiasm, making the duck emit a high-pitched squeal.
“Oh, my God, I’m being bathed by two oversized toddlers with American Express Black cards,” Elle muttered, sinking lower into the bubbles. Her snarky comeback dissolved into an involuntary moan as Damian’s fingers massaged her scalp.
“Traitor,” she whispered as her body started to throb.
Drake’s gentle strokes with a soft washcloth had her fighting to maintain her indignation, but since she didn’t want to find out what a slap from one of those huge paws would feel like on her wet thigh, she conceded.
“I’m still not playing with those ducks,” she gloated at his expectant look. “They look suspicious. They’ll probably report back to their rubber duck overlords that I’m squeezing them wrong.”
“Not yet,” Damian chuckled, rinsing her hair. “Though I do like this creative streak of yours.”
“I’m a baker, Daddy genius,” she said in a snarky comeback. “I create for a living, designing the most intricate cakes and pastries, in case you didn’t know.”
“Oh, we do… especially pink donuts with silver sprinkles.” The reminder of what had brought her here stung, but she kept quiet… before she dug the hole she was already in deeper.
Once done, Damian lifted her from the tub.
They dried her thoroughly with towels so soft, she was convinced they were woven from cloud fluff and unicorn manes.
They spent a copious amount of time drying her girlie bits, dragging the towels back and forth until the cloudy softness turned into rough torment.
“I am relatively sure I am completely dry,” she managed through clenched teeth as her body trembled with the lust they had sparked to life.
“That, babygirl, is a matter of opinion,” Drake crooned as he swirled a towel-covered finger around her clit. With a gasp, she went onto her toes, desperate to escape the tantric caress. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as they finally put down the towels.
“This is ridiculous,” Elle protested as Damian picked her up and carried her to the padded changing table. “I’m going to write a strongly worded letter to whoever manufactures adult-sized baby furniture. I’m convinced there has to be a support group for that somewhere.”
“Hush now, babygirl,” Drake said as he smoothed lotion over her skin while Damian held her still.
“Oh, sweet fuck... I’m going to die,” Elle groaned, mortified by her body’s unwanted response to their attention. “Death by baby lotion. That’s going to look great on my tombstone.”
“Language,” both men scolded in unison but chuckled at her response.
“Really? You’re going to lecture me about language while I’m laying here naked as a jaybird?
Which, by the way, poses the question… why are birds always naked in sayings?
They have feathers!” Elle shifted and cursed her tendency to latch onto inconsequential facts at the most inopportune times…
Okay, I’m stressed, damn it… give me a break!
“Wriggling like that? Definitely an invitation, don’t you think?” Drake drawled as his palms feathered over her nipples.
“Believe me, it’s a desperate attempt to get off this damn thing,” she snapped. Just as she relaxed when Drake returned to finish the task of rubbing the cream over her legs, Damian leaned closer. The flick of his tongue against her nipple sent a flash of heat to curl around her core.
“Hmm, perfectly coral-colored and reactive,” he praised as his lips locked around said nipple and gently tugged on it.
“Not as perfectly pink and pretty as her pussy.”
“Oh my god,” she moaned, silently apologizing for calling His name all too often since meeting the Double D Duo as Drake spread her legs wide and, with gentle fingers, teased her labia apart.
“There is no reason to lotion that part,” she protested as liquid heat settled heavily in her lower body.
“Lubrication of our baby girl’s naughty bits is very important, little one.
Something we intend to address every bath time.
” The warmth of his voice brushed against her wide-open pussy, then his lips were there…
covering her slit, teasing, kissing… and his tongue…
Oh, holy shit! He had the wickedest tongue she had ever encountered.
“Bite them, Damian.”
Drake’s words were still registering when pain seared through her as Damian bit into the tender flesh, tugging on the nub before repeating the action with the other.
“Ah, yes… this little babygirl’s cunt loves a little pain, it seems.” Drake’s voice sounded dark and dangerous. “Again, pull and shake them.”
“Fuuuck!” Elle screamed as once again he followed the instruction without hesitation.
Her back arched, but she wasn’t sure if it was to alleviate the tension when he pulled on her nipples or to beg for more.
All she knew was that the twin actions on her nipples and pussy catapulted her with a blast of lust so profound, she could feel the climax steamrolling closer… closer… and then…
They stopped.
“Perfectly lubricated, wouldn’t you say, Damian? Just look at it now. All puffy and pink coated with a glistening layer of her essence.”
Elle opened her eyes and stared at them with sexual euphoria still sizzling in her veins.
“You are not seriously going to stop now?” she said in a clipped voice as her fingers locked around the edge of the changing table.
Her entire body was flushed with desire.
She was so close… so fucking close. All she needed was one final push…
a tiny one would do the trick. If only she could get them to?—
“Too much excitement just before bedtime might keep you from sleeping, and since we’re happy with the level of your… lubrication, there’s no need to continue.” The slight smile on Drake’s face showed his enjoyment of the moment.
“Sexual frustration will definitely keep me awake,” she grumbled under her breath.
“What was that, babygirl?” Damian raised an eyebrow, but she suspected they’d heard what she had said pretty well.
“I was just wondering how much longer I have to stay perched on this damn table,” she lamented, realizing they had no intention of accommodating her sexual need.
“Of course, how inconsiderate of me.” Drake patted her cheek.
“Shit,” Elle cursed as he picked up the next torture element of her bathtime routine.
“Almost done, my sweet.” There was no mistaking the pleasure in his voice as he opened the bottle.