Page 11 of Grace's Daddy

I’m still holding his face, fully aware he could stop me. “Yes. That’s it. I don’t want you to see it.”

Eli’s brows lift toward his hairline. “You naughty Little girl. Do you know what happens to naughty girls who tell fibs to their Daddies?”

I gasp. “I’m not lying,” I fib. “I do have a vibrator in that drawer, just like you said.”

This time only one inquisitive brow of his lifts. “How many vibrators do you have, Grace?”

My cheeks heat. I groan.

Eli’s palms slide down to my bottom. He cups my cheeks over my panties. It’s so incredibly intimate, and he’s touching me so close to my pussy. My brain stops firing properly.

I stop breathing when he brings his lips to my ear. “I’m glad you have vibrators, Little one. I’m not judging you. I like that you take care of yourself and know what you enjoy.”

I shudder. I’m still embarrassed, but somehow the mortification eases. It always does with him.

He continues whispering against my ear. “May I get you a pacifier now? I promise I don’t care what’s in that drawer. In fact, whatever you own will help me know better what kinds of things you like. It’s like a window into your soul.”

“It’s more like a garage door,” I mutter.

He laughs. “Okay. That’s probably true, but it’s still valuable information.”

Our odd, unexpected relationship is hours old. I’m half naked on his lap. He’s about to see my stash of vibrators. I have nothing left to hide. Well, one thing, but I’m not sharing that detail with him. No way.

Giving up, I slide off his lap, grab the pillow next to him, and bury my face in it, not wanting to watch while he sees my most private personal belongings. I don’t even care that my pantiesare fully on display. Let him look. If he doesn’t like my bottom, too bad. It’s attached to me.

Eli takes a long time retrieving my pacifier. I’m not surprised. There’s a lot to see in that drawer. But I don’t look at him. I keep my face hidden.

Finally I hear the drawer slide shut. He’s at my side, his hand on my bottom, sliding up and down the backs of my thighs. “This is a good brand of pacifier, sweet girl. You did your research.”

I don’t respond. I’m still fighting the urge to hyperventilate. He’s just explored my vibrator stash, and he’s going to blow it off and talk about pacifier brands?

“You told me another fib, though, didn’t you, Baby girl?”

I suck in a breath and hold it. What is he referring to? Surely he doesn’t know… I groan against the pillow.

His fingers inch up my thigh and under the edge of my panties. “You don’t wear panties to bed, do you, Grace?”

Fuck. I need the Earth to swallow me whole.

As if the entire world didn’t just shift on its axis, Eli keeps speaking. “I bet you were nervous to share that detail with me. I can’t blame you. That’s a lot to tell someone you’ve just opened yourself up to. Since you’re not familiar with Regression Island, I’m going to tell you something. I left out crucial information about the island, too. So we’re even.”

I slowly turn my head toward him. I remain on my tummy, and I fist the pillow with both hands, but I meet his gaze. “Do Daddies tell fibs?”

He slides his hand up my back over my nightgown and rubs between my shoulder blades. “I will never lie to you, Little one. You have my word. Not even a fib. I simply didn’t elaborate about the island because I wasn’t sure you were ready to hear the details.”

“Oh.”

“Littles on the island live a fully regressed lifestyle. No exceptions.”

“Like…Babies?” I whisper.

“Yes. One hundred percent of the time. It’s a hard-and-fast rule. All Littles are diapered. The only other things they wear are T-shirts and sometimes sandals or sneakers to protect their feet.”

I’m so intrigued that I turn more fully to face him. “Always?”

“Yep. It prevents any jealousy or judgment among Littles. They might own a variety of colors of shirts, perhaps hair bows, but that’s it.”

“So everyone can see their diapers?” I ask, my voice squeaking.