Page 33 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

Chapter Nineteen

DD Estate, Dreamer’s Cove

Drake & Damian

“Please go with Amanda, babygirl. She’ll dress you for our afternoon on the beach.

” Drake’s voice held firm yet gentle authority as he watched Elle’s face, waiting for her anticipated reaction.

Despite her contrition over her attitude that morning, defiance still flickered in her eyes.

Their initial assessment of her easy transition into their lifestyle had proven premature.

Just twenty-four hours in, and the challenges were mounting.

There was a shift in her attitude from last night to this morning.

The stark contrast from begging to sleep in his arms to this morning’s resistance gnawed at him.

Drake prided himself on reading people—it was what made him successful in business and relationships.

Yet Elle... she remained an enigma. If she secretly resented the role she had agreed to play, it meant that his instincts about her had been warped.

When a man wanted something badly enough, it was easy to ignore warning signs. Drake wasn’t one of them. He’d have to keep an eye on her. He had been the one to choose her. It would be on him if she broke Damian’s heart… and that wasn’t going to happen.

His gaze drifted to Damian, catching that now-familiar look of pure adoration directed at their bratty baker. The same expression he knew graced his own features whenever she was near. That morning at the Cuban Café had sealed their fate. Both of them had fallen hard and fast.

Drake’s protective instincts surged. He had always shielded Damian since their college days through their rise in the business world.

If his suspicions were correct, he would rather endure his own heartbreak than watch Damian shatter.

A broken heart would heal. Destroying his best friend’s trust in love? Unforgivable.

That he didn’t acknowledge what it would do to him was significant. He would always consider Damian’s feelings before his own—he always had. It was the kind of man he was. A natural protector and nurturer.

She was the one. He knew it, had known it from the first time he’d seen her.

The problem was, she was recoiling against the attraction he knew was awakening inside her.

It was there in every look she cast at them.

Coaching her to adapt to being their Little and nurturing an emotion she might not recognize in the battle of wills raging inside her could very well end in disaster… for him and Damian.

“I’m already dressed for the beach, Daddy.” Elle tugged at her red bikini string, her lower lip jutting out. “See?”

“No, babygirl. That bathing suit is for when we go to the Cayman Islands.” His lips curved upward, but his tone brooked no argument. “Here, you’ll dress how we wish you to.”

“But—”

Drake’s stern look silenced her protest mid-word. He kept his expression fixed until she lowered her eyes in submission. His smile broadened as she hung her head in defeat.

“Okay, Daddy.” Her shoulders slumped as she turned away. Each step was deliberately slow, testing whether he’d relent.

No such luck, love. Drake watched her retreating form. His resolve strengthened. Today, we’re finally going to possess every inch of you. A dream we’ve had for the past two years.

But as part of that dream, she needed to embrace her role as their Little, starting with proper attire for the feast they had planned on the beach.

“What do you think, Drake? Is three months enough?” Damian asked with concern in his eyes.

“We knew from the start that we’d have to be patient with her,” Drake murmured.

“She has to adapt to a completely new lifestyle, but as long as she’s fighting herself as much as she’s fighting us, it’s not going to happen.

” He smiled. “Which means we’ll have to tighten the bonds.

Keep her constantly in Little mode, either by spoiling, punishing, or fucking the living hell out of her. ”

Damian smiled, but he couldn’t keep the gnawing uncertainty from his voice. “And if she still doesn’t conform?”

“Then we let her go.” The words cost Drake more than he cared to admit, but he meant them. “But not before we are certain she’s given it a real chance. She needs time to trust—in us and herself as well as our way of life, understanding the joy and release it’ll offer her.”

Drake heard the halting, reluctant footsteps first. His lips twitched as he fought back a smile. Damian was carrying an equally amused expression.

Elle appeared in the doorway with her face flaming scarlet.

The thick white diaper with petite pink flowers was the only thing covering her, making her legs look impossibly long.

Her arms were crossed over her bare breasts, but based on the indignation on her face, modesty had nothing to do with it.

“I am not walking to the beach like this.” Her chin jutted up in defiance, though the effect was somewhat diminished by a fierce blush coating her cheeks.

“Oh, but you are, princess,” Damian chuckled, moving to scoop her up. “Unless you prefer we carry you?”

“Don’t you dare!” She backed away, only to bump into Drake, who had circled behind her.

“Then walk you shall,” Drake declared as his hands settled on her shoulders. “Come on, babygirl. Stop pouting and show us how pretty you can toddle in your new beach attire.”

Elle’s groan echoed through the air. “This is ridiculous. I look?—”

“Absolutely perfect,” both men said in unison.

“The birds will see me!”

“Lucky birds,” Damian winked, earning himself a glare that only made them laugh harder.

With Amanda in tow, they shepherded her toward the beach path. They thoroughly enjoyed watching Elle taking exaggerated baby steps with the diaper’s bulk forcing her legs slightly apart. Every few steps, she stopped to tug at the thick material while muttering under her breath.

“Having some trouble there, babygirl?” Drake teased, earning himself a look that would have withered a lesser man.

“I hate you both,” she declared, though her lips twitched traitorously.

“Now, now,” Damian tsked. “Is that any way for our baby tomboy to talk?”

Elle’s response was to stick out her tongue, which only made both men roar with laughter.

“I wouldn’t suggest you try that under different circumstances, little miss,” Amanda chirped in. “I can assure you it would cost you a well-seasoned ass for the trouble.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Elle said with a wary glance at them.

“Yep,” Drake pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “What she said.”

“You know there is such a thing as consistency,” she responded in a preachy voice. “Ask me, as a baker, I know how important it is to make sure your dough is always just perfect. Same can be said for when what is allowed in this,”—she pointed between them—“mystery of ingredients.”

“As we say in the business world, love… read the room. You would very quickly learn when actions are appropriate and when not.” Drake smiled broadly. “Lessons we’ll be too happy to provide with the correct… incentivized ingredients.”

“Pfft,” she snorted as she waddled down the path that opened to a beautiful cove with a small waterfall and seabirds wheeling overhead. Elle paused at the edge of the sand, her toes curling into it.

“I guess I’m not going to swim?”

“And why is that?” Damian gently brushed her hair back.

“Duh,” she said with a sideward glare. “The diaper’s going to get wet and sandy,” she pointed out in a last desperate attempt at logic… or rather manipulation to get out of the offending garment.

“That’s why we brought extras.” Drake smiled as Amanda produced a beach bag she hadn’t noticed before. “We plan to be here quite a while, princess.”

Her answering whimper was both frustrated and aroused as she caught the double entendre. It was a combination that made their eyes darken with promise.

“Now then,” Damian spread out a large blanket. “Who’s ready for some surf time with her Daddies?”

“Why don’t you ask the birds?” Elle said in a saccharine tone. “Since you both seem to be so fascinated with them.”

“Such a sassy mouth,” Drake murmured as he scooped her up without warning. She kicked and squealed as he waded into the surf.

“No! The diaper’s getting wet and heavy!” She squirmed in his arms. “Let me go! This is completely—eek!” Her protest ended in a shriek as a wave splashed over them.

Damian joined them with pleasure dancing in his eyes. “Ready to jump the waves, babygirl?”

“Oh, please! I’m not a toddler to be—” Another wave cut her off as Drake bounced her in his arms.

“One... two... three!” They lifted her over a rolling wave. Their smiles were broad as a reluctant giggle broke through her feigned annoyance.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “You are ridiculous.” But her body was already tensing in anticipation of the next wave.

“Here comes a big one!” Damian called out. They lifted her higher, and this time, her laugh tinkled across the water.

The sodden diaper hung low on her hips, with water streaming down her bare torso. With her earlier self-consciousness forgotten, Elle began pointing at approaching waves, demanding, “Higher, Daddies! Higher!”

Drake’s chest tightened as he watched her transformation. Gone was the sophisticated bakery owner, replaced by their precious Little, bouncing and splashing with uninhibited joy. Her breasts swayed freely as she jumped between them, crystal drops flying from her hair.

“Chase me!” she called out suddenly, breaking away to splash through the shallows. The waterlogged diaper slipped precariously low, but she paid it no mind, too caught up in her game.

Damian caught Drake’s eye. His expression was raw with need and tenderness. This was what they had hoped for, for their Little to emerge naturally and not through discipline or demands.

“Youuu caaan’t caaatch me!” Elle taunted as she danced away from their reaching hands. Her face was glowing with mischief and delight.

“Oh really?” Drake lunged and caught her around the waist to drag her tight against his chest. She squealed as he spun her high into the air.

The diaper finally gave up its fight with gravity, sliding down to her knees. Elle’s laughter didn’t falter as Damian pulled it the rest of the way off, tossing it onto the beach.

“Our beautiful baby girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her wet shoulder and brushing his palms over her back and naked buttocks.

Drake felt her shiver at the featherlike caress as her body melted against his. The transition was starting. Soon, their Little will fully emerge, sweet, trusting, and utterly perfect.

“Wanna build a sandcastle, princess?” Damian's voice turned rough with emotion.

Elle’s eyes lit up. “With towers?” she asked hopefully, with all pretense of sophistication forgotten.

“The biggest towers,” Drake promised as he carried her to the beach. “And a moat around it.”

“To keep all the creepy crawlies out,” she said with an excited giggle.

Drake imagined the glow in her eyes was from memories of her childhood days. All the spoils in her room didn’t trigger anything other than shock, but something as simple as playing in the surf and building a sandcastle was all they needed to tap into the Little inside her.

He caught Damian’s gaze again. His own awe was mirrored there. This was more than what they had hoped to achieve today.

The plan to introduce her to their first shared intimacy was wordlessly pushed back in that one look. It was more important to nurture and cherish this victory of their babygirl’s first honest reaction to her Daddies.

Sandwich-fucking her to kingdom come would have to wait until later tonight. For now, they were going to build the biggest sandcastle known to man.