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He raised her skirt, taking in the red marks on her knees. Gently, he pressed his fingers against them. She hissed.
“Fine, huh?” he asked dryly. “These might bruise.”
“I’ve had worse.”
He cupped her face between his hands. “I want to bathe you. But I don’t want you to offer because you think you have to.”
“I’m not,” she whispered. “I want to try. Please.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he told her decisively.
Standing, he picked her up in his arms and carried her through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Then he set her gently down on the counter.
“What disgusting color do you want to make your bath tonight?” He looked through her bath bombs.
“Daddy, they’re not disgusting.” She gave him a stern look, waggling her finger. “They’re pretty. I want the blue one with the silver stars. I want to sparkle like nighttime.”
Right.
He ran the bath and then put the bomb in it. It started to disintegrate as he turned back to her.
“Sure?”
She nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
Gently, he lifted her down then started taking off her T-shirt. She was trembling as he took it off. She didn’t have a bra on, and her small breasts were soon revealed.
“Remember, you can say your safeword at any time,” he told her.
She nodded shakily then cupped her breasts once he had the T-shirt off.
“Don’t hide, Duchess,” he told her in a low voice. “You’re beautiful.”
“Small.”
“Small can be beautiful. Flowers are small, but usually perfectly formed.” He tugged off her skirt, nearly laughing at the sight of her panties. On the front were the words: Lick me until followed by an image of an ice cream.
“Lick me until ice cream?” He grinned.
She went bright red. “I thought they were cute ice cream panties. It didn’t click until I received them in the mail what it meant.”
“I will happily lick you until you scream,” he murmured, staring up at her with heat in his gaze.
Her blush filled her face, and he took the opportunity as she was occupied with her thoughts to whip off the last of her clothing. Then she was trembling, naked, goosebumps covered her skin.
“You’re cold.”
She shook her head. She had a habit of not talking when she was upset or worried.
“Words, Duchess,” he reminded her.
“Nervous.”
“Why?”
“That you’ll think I’m ugly.”
Yeah, he was feeling very bloodthirsty. Standing, he cupped her face, glaring down at her ferociously. “You listen to me. You are not ugly. Naked or not, you are beautiful.”
