by Allison West
He did not bother to remove or even loosen the ties on her dress. He lifted the hem of her gown and shifted on the mattress, crawling up her thighs.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with trepidation.
"I am going to taste your sweet nectar and let your body experience pure bliss," Theo said. His breath tickled over her bloomers as he nuzzled and smelled her musky scent through the fabric.
Gia did not object. Was her heart thumping as wildly as his pulse?
The pads of his fingers reached her waist and he gently guided the cotton material past her hips and down her legs, kissing her thighs… her creamy, pale skin along the way.
She moaned and shifted, seeming restless as his breath tickled a path back up toward the mound of smooth, freshly shaven, soft skin. His fingers separated her folds and he heard her sharp intake of breath as his own mouth hovered, teasing but not yet giving in to what she wanted.
"This is a reward, for your honesty and bravery in telling me the truth." He ran his tongue over her sweet folds and up to her pearl, swirling and teasing the tiny gem as it swelled from its hood. His fingers felt her wetness and slid one, then two, slowly inside her entrance. Her bottom had been plugged, and Theo saw no reason to remove the implement right now. Gia's muscles would latch onto the glass plug and surely intensify the orgasm he intended to give her.
Her head dipped back, and her fingers trailed over the mattress until he took her hand and placed it onto his head. Theo wanted to feel her touch, to discover what she craved, and know when she was close. Yes, he could feel the first spasm as her insides clenched onto his digits but he wanted to feel her all around him.
His cock throbbed, wanting desperately to be released and satisfied as he indulged her for being honest. He did not care that it had taken a proper sitting down and discussion outside to get her to speak the truth. All that mattered was that she was his, and she was truthful. Those were the two things he needed most of all.
Her hands tugged at his hair. It was the small gestures, the simple movements that he studied and felt, taking her cues, knowing what she liked and what she loved. Theo wanted her to love him and to experience what no one had ever been able to give her—until that stupid doctor had done so.
Theo did not dare admit he resented Doctor Colt, but the emotions did run pretty close. The mere fact that the man had been allowed to touch his little Gia and bring her to orgasm in front of him, was both stimulating and heartbreaking, all at once. The only man permitted to touch his little Gia ought to be himself. Theo understood that the doctor had merely been performing the required exam for his own benefit, but it did not matter; jealousy had raged inside him and he had not been able to let it go, until now.
Her insides tensed around his digits and wetness seeped onto his tongue as her gasps became moans and her body trembled below his touch. He did not want the moment to be over so soon and yet it was; she was gasping for breath, trembling in his arms, pulsating around his fingers. He reveled in the feeling that she had come, solely for him. This moment, this delicious and precious moment, did not have to be shared with anyone else.
Slowly, he withdrew his fingers and placed one last kiss over the soft lips of her quim as he retreated, lying back on the mattress, his own heart thumping as though it might explode from his chest.
A faint smile curved her lips. "That was wonderful, Papa."
"I am glad you enjoyed our little time together. After dinner, we will share additional companionship that I might enjoy."
She smiled shyly. "That sounds wonderful as well, Papa."
Chapter 14
Gia did not know what her papa had meant by 'sharing companionship time' together. She had given him no reason to worry as her lie had seemed to slip past him all too easily. Though she cared greatly for Theo and had not wished to lie to him, it had been too difficult to confess the truth: Gia's parents were very much alive, and she had been disgraced and forced to leave her home.
He would never have to know her secret, there was no reason for him to discover the truth. As far as he knew, her parents were deceased, so he would have no need to meet her father and ask his permission to marry their daughter.
She had not told Mr. Hartley of her family, so the secret was safe so long as she could bury it deep within herself. Gia felt terrible about lying to Theo. Her papa was a nice man, a gentleman who had given her a better life and wanted to make her happy. He had proven that to her, and yet she still felt compelled to hide the truth, afraid of what it would mean for her, were it to be revealed. Surely if he knew of the scandal that had disgraced her family and her name, he would want to get as far from her as possible.
Guilt found its way into her heart as he had been most kind to her, reading her a story, pleasuring her in ways she had not thought imaginable. Every time he reminded her that he was doing those things to reward her for being honest, it tore her up on the inside, breaking her heart just a little bit more. When would it shatter? She could not let Theo know the truth, and yet she was worried that he would discover it on his own. Gia knew that keeping a secret so big would potentially result in causing her great pain, but confessing the truth proved to be that much harder. She did the only thing she could think of: win his love. Perhaps if he discovered the truth later, it would prove easier. He would be unable to push her away or toss away what they had shared as though it were rubbish. Gia trusted only in herself, and would not speak of the street urchin story ever again.
"I want you to put your bloomers back on while I bring us a tray for dinner," Papa said, giving her strict instructions.
She nodded and sat up in bed, watching as he left the room. Gia climbed off the mattress and gathered her cotton bloomers from the floor, taking them with her to the chamber pot. She had been holding her bladder all day, not wishing to relieve herself in front of either her nanny or her papa.
As she finished her business, the door to the nursery opened and she stood quickly, wiping herself dry before sliding her bloomers back up her legs.
"Little Gia?" Papa said.
"Coming!" She shoved the chamber pot beside the porcelain tub and headed back into the nursery.
"What were you doing?" His eyes narrowed as he watched her intently. Did he not trust her? She had given him no reason to worry, Gia was being extra careful to quell his fears.
"I had to use the chamber pot," she said, pointing behind her. "My bloomers are back on." She lifted the hem of her dress for him to see the white cotton material he had grown so familiar with just moments earlier.
"Yes, I see that. It is not proper for you to lift your dress like that, little Gia."
"I am sorry." She hung her head and diverted her eyes from his sharp gaze. She did not wish to disappoint her papa.
"All is forgiven. We shall sit and enjoy dinner." Papa brought the tray of delicious food to the bed.
Gia cleared the nightstand, making room for the tray, ensuring it would not spill onto the mattress. "Everything smells delicious," she said, smiling as she sat back down on the edge of the bed.
The room had once smelled strange; of powder and spice, but now the pleasant aromas of dinner wafted through the air. Her stomach gurgled at the sight of mashed potatoes, and her mouth watered when she saw beef fairly swimming in gravy.
"You will eat your vegetables first," Papa said, taking his knife and fork, dicing up the carrots and green beans into small, bite-sized pieces.
"I can do that, so you can eat too," Gia offered.
"I am sure you are more than capable of doing so as Miss Giana Hayes; however, as my little Gia, you will allow me do such things for you, including cutting up your food and feeding it to you."
He had not fed her before. Was it because she was now dressed as a little? "You did not find it necessary to do so before," Gia said. She did not intend to sound rude or abrasive, but she did not understand what had changed.
He continued to cut up her meal, including the beef, into small pieces ap
propriate for a young child to chew without choking on. At least he had not mashed her beef into a puree that was no longer recognizable, like the potatoes. It still irritated her. She enjoyed being little in many respects, but he did have to realize that she was still an adult. Acting like a little one did not physically make her little.
"Before, little Gia, you were dressed as a nanny. I did not, therefore, find it appropriate until after your exam, when the paperwork had been finalized and you were mine. There is no reason to get upset, love. I am only doing this for you, so that you may be doted on and cared for. Do you not like being little?"
It was not that she disliked being little. She enjoyed the attention, the cuddling with her papa, especially during story time, but there were moments in which she wished that he saw her for the adult she was. They had just done something very adult-like and now, not ten minutes later, he was cutting up her food for her to eat dinner. It confused Gia.
"I like it very much; I just do not understand why we engaged in an intimate activity that is not appropriate for a child, and yet you continue to treat me as little. It confuses me."
Her papa sat down on the bed beside her, having finished cutting up the meal for her to enjoy. "I know it is a strange notion to accept, at first. I thought you knew what went on, since you were employed as a nanny here."
"I was a nanny for a week." She had not learned everything, and since her charge Teresa had not acquired a papa, there was a great deal she had not witnessed or experienced until it was her own turn as a little. "I am trying to accept all that is happening," Gia said. "I enjoyed what we shared and I enjoy being little, I really do, but sometimes I wish to be older with you, so that we might share an intellectual conversation. Does that not bother you? Do you really wish to sit with me and read stories all the time, and watch me color?"
"Do you not enjoy those carefree pastimes?" Papa asked.
"I do enjoy those activities." She did not want him to think her ungrateful for all he had given her, but she desired more with him. Did he not want all of it with her, too? "I feel stuck." She could not voice the words more specifically, as they would not come.
"I know it may seem strange, little Gia, but I love watching you color in the playroom. I had hoped you might have got along better with the other littles. Perhaps that is what this unsettled feeling you have is truly about?"
She nodded. "Yes, that must be it." She did enjoy coloring, and the thought of playing with the dollhouse appealed to her, even though Teresa would not let her participate. She would have to find a way to make amends with the bratty girl—or put her in her place without the nannies discovering what happened.
Papa fed her, bite after bite, until she had eaten all that she could without being sick. She did not dare stop him from feeding her, for fear that it would upset him. If he enjoyed making sure she ate all of her dinner, what was the harm in it? At least when she dropped a piece off the fork, she was not given blame—unlike at her home as a real child.
"Giana, I swear, if you do not put that next bite into your mouth, I will mop the floor with your face!" her mother snapped.
Georgiana, all of five years old, had been talking animatedly with her fork, at which the meatball had flown from the table and rolled across the floor. It had not been bad enough she had done it once, but then the second meatball had been too slippery and rolled right off her plate and table. She had not intended to upset her mother, but it was all too easy a task.
"I am sorry," Giana whispered, bending down to pick up the mess she had made.
"Sorry is not good enough, Giana. I will have to scrub the floor and the kitchen walls where you made a mess. It is not enough that I have to cook and clean, but now you are giving me more work to do. Are you happy about that? Get up from the floor. You will only dirty that dress."
Giana had tried to help. Why could her mother not so much as acknowledge her attempts, even if they were not perfect? Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes watered as she pushed herself back up off the floor to sit down like a young lady should at the table.
"Eat another bite of that meal and you will not eat another bite all week. I will not be cleaning up any more of your messes tonight, Giana. Go upstairs to bed."
"I hate you!" Giana's nose twitched as steam seemed to rise from her body—at least it felt that way—as she grew angry with her mother, and her cheeks turned blotchy and red. Her mother was always mean, chiding her for making a mess in her room, at the table, in the kitchen. Her mother wanted a tidy house at all times, everything had its place, and Giana was not sure she fit into that perfect picture.
Her only ally—and barely one at that—her father, was out on business, having missed the tears that followed and the loss of her appetite as she stormed up the stairs into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. She had sworn never to come out until she was married. Giana knew it was a long way away, but at least then a man would rescue her, protect her from the beast of a mother she had, and a nearly invisible father.
"Would you like me to cut you up any more food?" Papa asked.
Her stomach felt full and she shook her head. "I cannot eat anything more. Thank you for feeding me." He had been too kind, the feeling was strange for a girl who had not got along well with her parents while she was growing up.
Papa quietly ate his own dinner, cutting up his meat as he took one bite at a time.
The room was thick with silence, and she did not know whether to help, or just sit still so as to not disturb him. The memory of her family had made her more hesitant, and slightly uncertain as to what to do and how to properly behave. At times, she still did not know how to be little. The concept felt foreign but welcoming, a strange combination that she could not explain, even if she had wanted to.
As he finished his dinner, Gia sat quietly, keeping him company. Papa stood and cleaned up the tray of food. "I will be back in just a minute."
She watched him disappear from the room and stood, walking toward the window to stare out at the night sky. The moon had risen, and with it the stars sprinkled across the sky.
The door behind her opened and she glanced over her shoulder at her papa. "It is quite beautiful outside. When I was a small child, I used to stare out at the night sky whenever I found myself locked in my room," she said.
Papa frowned. "Why were you locked in your room?"
"My presence did not seem to please my mother," Gia said. There was no point in lying about it. He would see right through that and besides, she already had one lie to harbor, she did not need an even bigger one to go along with it.
"I am sorry to hear that. A child should never feel that way about where she comes from, her home. I promise, Gia, that when we leave Ashby, you will be happy about joining me at my estate, and pleased with our arrangements. I never want you to be dissatisfied with your life or those in it."
Gia smiled politely and spun around in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You could never make me unhappy. My mother was a difficult woman. It was not her fault. She suffered from 'delire emotif', a disease of the emotions…" Her voice trailed off, not wishing to further elaborate on the specifics.
"I am sorry. Perhaps it is for the best that she has passed. She will no longer find the struggle that likely encompassed her daily."
"Yes, I am certain that she is at peace, now." Gia did not finish her thought that her mother's peace had come when she'd had her daughter thrown from the estate and banished from her home over a scandal that was not even remotely true. It sickened her how easily one could have their reputation ruined while being entirely innocent. No one seemed to care about her side of the story, or what she had grappled with during her time of need. Instead, she was shunned and thrown from her home like an animal that was no longer wanted.
"Come," Papa said, taking Gia's hand as he led her toward the bed. "Tell me what is on your mind. I pray it is not your mother."
She did not dare admit that was what troubled her, that and the lies she had to keep to
ensure his happiness—and hers. Gia laughed softly under her breath, trying to break the spell of disappointment and heartache, wanting to feel light, carefree, and much like a child again. Theo had given her something she had never imagined possible. Making her feel young, youthful… it was truly the best gift for a girl who had had a difficult upbringing.
"I cannot believe you are here, with me," Gia said. She smiled warmly, trying to ease any doubts or concerns he might feel.
"Do you mean in the nursery? I spoke with Headmaster Philip, and he gave me special permission to keep you company and tuck you into bed."
"Is it my bedtime yet?" It seemed too early. They had only recently eaten, and though the sun had set, it did not seem late enough for bed.
"Not yet. We will give you a bath and then it will be time for a special treat and into bed."
"What kind of special treat?" Her heart lifted at the mere mention of a surprise. He had a way of taking away her cares and heartache, erasing the pain for her.
"You will find out after your bath. I know you will be good for me, won't you, little Gia?"
"Of course, Papa. I will not disappoint you." She would do everything possible to shield him from the lies she had told.
He placed a chaste kiss atop her head. "I have no doubt. I am going to fetch a maid to bring in hot water for your bath, and fresh linens. Undress for me so that you will be ready when the tub is full."
Papa left, and Gia closed the curtains and turned up the lantern to brighten the room, leaving it on a stool beside the tub. She did not have the ability to remove the gown herself, the ties were much too tight and difficult to reach.
Not wanting to disappoint her papa, she removed her stockings and bloomers, leaving the white garments folded neatly in a pile on the floor.