Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) by Becca Jameson (inspirational novels .TXT) 📕

of misplaced bravery she can muster wafting from her frame. Finally, she releases her hands from behind her back and lifts one hand out toward me.

I frown when I see she’s holding a pair of scissors. For a moment, I can’t breathe, and then I take them from her and set them far out of reach across the desk. “Why are you walking around the house with scissors, sweetie? And what did I tell you just yesterday about sharp objects?”

Her lip trembles and she shuffles her feet as she crosses one arm over her chest and clasps her opposite elbow. She draws in a breath and ignores my question. “My boss sold me for three physical attributes. You already pointed out that we wouldn’t be able to prove it if I wasn’t a, uh, virgin any longer.” She whispers that one word, glancing at Blade.

“Britney…” I warn again, my frustration growing.

“I can’t really change my actual body in just a few days, but there is something we could do.”

Blade shifts his weight. I’m certain he’s as uncomfortable with where this conversation is going as I am.

She sucks in a breath and continues. “We could cut off my hair. Like really cut it off. All the way to my scalp. That’s what my foster mom did in first grade and no one would even look at me.” Her words are coming out in a rush of breaths. “I would look hideous and he wouldn’t want to sell me anymore. Then I could put on some makeup or something to make it look like I got beat up and go to the club and tell him I got attacked. It would work. I could even say I was raped. I wouldn’t be pretty and I wouldn’t be a virgin. Then he’d give up.” She sounds so hopeful like she’s had the most brilliant idea.

For a moment I just stare at her, unable to respond. I hear Blade suck in a breath. I’m feeling a mix of emotions, and struggling to decide which one wins out and will show itself.

The Daddy in my wants to take her over my knee right now for touching scissors, but I’ll save that for later.

The nurturer in me wants to pull her into my arms and hold her tight while I tell her how precious and loved she is. I hurt for what happened to her when she was six. It’s made a mark on her that led her to this realization.

The Alpha in me wants to shake some sense into her because there’s not a chance in hell I would ever agree to let her face Lazinski.

A combination of those emotions flood to the front all at once. I reach out and clasp her wrist to pull her closer and then tug her between my legs and fiercely hug her against my chest.

I force myself to calm down by inhaling the sweet powdery scent of her hair. I stroke my hand up and down her back, my fingers tangling in her locks as the action soothes me.

When I finally feel like I can face her without shouting, I set my hands on her shoulders and hold her back a few inches. “First of all, you’re never going to set foot anywhere near Lazinski again in your life. If I ever hear you suggesting such a thing again, I’ll spank you so hard you can’t sit for a week.”

Her lip trembles.

“Second of all, I would never cut even one hair off your head. Hell, I’m careful brushing it out to make sure I don’t accidentally snag one. What happened to you was traumatic, and you’re never living through that again. If you want to get a few inches trimmed or styled or something one day, I’ll agree to that, but anything more is out of the question.”

She swallows. Her eyes are watery.

“And lastly, after Master Andres leaves, I will be spanking your bottom until it stings too hard to sit down for the rest of the day, and then you’re going to get well-acquainted with the corner in the kitchen standing in timeout with your panties around your ankles and your bare bottom exposed. That’s for touching scissors.”

A tear slides down her face and I pull her back into my embrace and rock her back and forth while she sobs. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted to help.” She hiccups. “I don’t want you and Master Andres and Master Brett to get yourselves in trouble for me.”

I lift her up and set her on my thigh between my legs. After brushing her hair back from her face, I lift her chin. She’s still crying softly. “Sweet girl, you are the most precious thing in the world to me. I know I’ve only had you a week, but I mean that. I would never do anything that would put you in harm’s way. You have to trust me and my agency to make you safe. It’s what we do.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she repeats, her voice shaky. She wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me tight, her face buried in my shoulder.

I rock her and soothe her, my hand stroking her back. “Shhh. You’re okay, sweetie.” I finally glance at Blade.

His expression is a mixture of incredulity and approval. All I can think is that I hope someday soon he meets the perfect little girl of his own. He deserves happiness too.

I ignore the fact that there are no guarantees here. Britney is so new to the fetish world and to me. I’ve already fallen so hard for her that I will be devastated if she leaves me, but I can’t force her to want the same lifestyle I crave with her.

There is no doubt she’s a little. I don’t think anyone would argue that point. But how long will she want to live as my little girl? A week? A month? No amount of time is long enough. I want her for the rest of my