Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Eli drops my dress on the floor without taking his eyes off me. Then he gently wraps his hands around my biceps and pulls me closer, lowering his forehead to mine.
I love when he does that. It makes me feel closer to him. I love how his breathing is heavier and his mouth is parted. I love the way he’s staring into my eyes.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers.
I bite into my bottom lip, not knowing how to take a compliment. No one has ever said something like that to me. How could they? I’ve never given anyone a chance to do so. I never even look men in the eye for any longer than absolutely necessary.
But Eli… I’ll look him in the eyes for the rest of my life if he’ll let me.
He holds me back several inches and lets his gaze scan down my body and back up. After taking a deep breath, he lowers his hands to my panties and eases them down my legs, helping me out of them.
I feel like I’ve stepped into the middle of a romance novel when he holds my hips, drops the top of his head to my tummy, and inhales deeply. His face is inches from my pussy. He can see everything. I have no secrets from him now. Well, a few I guess. He has yet to spread my legs and look directly at my folds, but I have no doubt that’s coming.
When he guides me back several more inches and then lowers his face to reverently kiss the top of my pussy, I gasp.
He finally lifts his gaze. “When did you start shaving, sweet girl?”
My breath hitches. It never occurred to me he might not like it. I can’t read his expression or his tone. I lick my lips. “When I started wearing diapers,” I murmur. It’s been years. It’s just something I do.
He gives me a slow smile. “My girl is so smart.”
Am I? His girl, I mean?
Eli suddenly stands. He lifts me off my feet and sets me on the vanity before parting my legs and dropping down to his knees between my legs. He kisses my inner thighs in a dozen places, inching his way closer to my pussy.
I can’t breathe. This is so unexpected.
By the time he plants a chaste kiss on my folds, I nearly shoot off the counter. But he has me. He’s still holding my thighs open. I’m melting into a pile of goo, and Eli is staring at my pussy.
“Do you use a razor?” he asks, his voice gravelly.
“Y-yes,” I respond, wondering if there’s a wrong answer here. There shouldn’t be. It’s just a fact. I shave my pussy with a razor. A lot of girls do. I know because I’ve researched it online. Not just Littles. Lots of women.
He tips his head back to look up at me. “One day soon you’re going to let me start shaving you.”
I gasp.
He nods. “Think about that, Grace. I’ll have a changing table for you on the island. I’ll expect you to open your knees wide for me and stay very still while I shave your pussy after your baths at night.”
I stare at him, not blinking. I’m too stunned to respond or even inhale properly. My face feels hot.
He doesn’t need a response, though. A few seconds later, looking pleased with himself, he rises to his feet, lifts me off the vanity, and lowers me into the water.
I giggle. The tub is so full it’s about to overflow. That’s how long it took him to undress me and worship me.
Eli quickly turns off the water.
I reach out a hand to grab the bottle of bubble bath, but he takes my wrist and brings it to the edge of the tub. “Not tonight, Baby girl. I’ll let you have bubbles in the future, but tonight I want to be able to see all of you through the water while I wash you.”
White knuckling the sides of the tub, I can only nod. I should be embarrassed. I’m totally naked, and he’s fully clothed, but I can’t find the will to be anything but mesmerized. He’s so enamored with me, and I can feel it to my soul. I feel as pretty as he says I am. I’ve never thought of myself as being particularly sexy or attractive. Why would I? It’s never mattered before.
Eli carefully removes the bows and hairbands from my pigtails, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. He then sets a hand between my shoulder blades and lowers me back to wet my hair without a word.
Perhaps I’m out of my mind, but I trust him. If he meant me harm, now’s his chance to drown me. The thought is absurd, but I’m not the sort of woman people glance twice at. I should have doubts. Why don’t I? I think I’m just as certain about him as he is about me even though I haven’t voiced my thoughts yet. I’m scared to speak them out loud.