11. Storm

ELEVEN

STORM

S torm couldn’t help the small, satisfied grin that tugged at his lips as he watched her carefully. He liked seeing her naughty side—loved it, actually. It showed her trust in him; that she wasn’t afraid to test his boundaries or show her true self. And she shouldn’t be afraid. Not of him.

Storm might be a grumpy bastard, and he’d definitely be a strict Daddy when needed, but he would always make sure Brook had a safe space to be Little. To let her wild, playful side be alive and free without fear of judgment. He’d enjoy reining her back in when the time came, too. It was only a matter of time before she found herself over his knee; after all, Littles couldn’t help themselves.

Even though he could see the reluctance flickering across her face, she set her Barbies aside, neatly placing them in their designated cubby. She padded over to the table, her feet dragging slightly, and sat down when he pulled out a chair for her. He pushed her in with a firm but gentle motion, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the crown of her head. The simple act made her cheeks flush, filling him with a sense of pride and possessiveness that he couldn’t quite put into words.

Settling into his seat beside her, he kept both plates in front of him, ignoring the questioning glance she shot his way. Without a word, he picked up his fork and scooped up some of the creamy pasta. Feeding her was something she hadn’t wanted last time, but things were different now. He was her Daddy, and taking care of her in every way was part of his role. It wasn’t just about discipline—it was about nurturing her, spoiling her, and making sure she was cherished.

“Open, sunshine,” he said softly.

Her gaze met his, wide and sparkling, and after a moment’s hesitation, she obeyed, parting her lips. He slipped the fork into her mouth, watching her cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink as she tasted the pasta. Between her bites, he took some of the food for himself, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. It felt so natural and right to care for her like this.

“Do you only use sippy cups, or do you use bottles, too?” he asked after a few bites.

Her reaction was immediate. A deep blush spread over her cheeks, and she ducked her head, her lashes fluttering as she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. “I only have sippy cups,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

That wasn’t exactly a full answer, and Storm’s brow arched slightly as he observed her. “Have you ever used a bottle or thought about using one?”

He kept his gaze fixed on her, wanting to catch any flicker of expression that crossed her face.

“I’ve thought about it,” she admitted so softly that he almost didn’t catch it. “I’ve never tried one, though.”

His chest tightened. Storm reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek as he offered her a small smile. “We’ll add that to our list of things to try.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she bit her lip, but she nodded. The vulnerability in her expression tugged at something deep within him, solidifying what he already knew—he wanted to give her everything . Every comfort, every joy, and every ounce of safety she needed to truly thrive as his Little girl.

Reaching across to her, Storm wrapped his fingers around her wrist, bringing her hand to his mouth kiss her palm.

“’Kay. Thank you, Daddy.”

Something settled inside of him. Making Brook happy was quickly becoming addictive. Seeing her smile was everything. It softened something in him that he hadn’t realized had gone hard. Maybe it had happened after Emmaline, he wasn’t sure. This sweet girl in front of him was changing it, though, and he liked it.

"I want to take you to the house I’m buying," Storm said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Brook looked up, her eyes curious and bright. She tilted her head slightly, chewing a bite of pasta as she processed his words. It wasn’t just an invitation—it felt like more, like he was sharing a piece of himself with her. And for some reason, it was important to him that she see it before everything was finalized. Her apartment was fine—cozy, safe, and practical—but the thought of her in his house stirred something deep inside his chest. He was already thinking about the future, about making her a permanent part of his life, and he wanted her to love the place as much as he did.

After she swallowed, she smiled softly. “I’ve already seen the house. I work in the real estate office, remember?”

The corners of his mouth twitched into a subtle smirk. Of course she’d already seen it. It was her job. He should’ve guessed.

“It’s beautiful,” she continued. “One of my favorite listings recently. I was kind of surprised you went for that one.”

Her words warmed him in a way he hadn’t expected. Yeah, he’d been surprised, too. The house wasn’t the kind of place he’d ever envisioned for himself, but the moment he had stepped inside, it felt right. He could already imagine Brook playing in the big backyard, hosting her friends for Little gatherings. He could picture summer BBQs, stringing up Christmas lights, and having their moms over for dinner.

Storm had never thought of himself as the traditional type of guy, but with Brook, everything felt different. He wanted to give her a stable, comfortable home where she could be herself, where she could thrive and make it her own. Knowing the house had been one of her favorites reassured him that he was making the right decision.

His life had revolved around motorcycles for so long, but now Brook was quickly becoming his primary focus. She was the calm in his chaos, the warmth he hadn’t realized he needed.

It was probably too soon to ask her to move in with him once he got the keys—hell, he didn’t even have them yet. That was a next-week problem. He still had seven days before closing, plenty of time to figure out how to broach the subject with her.

Storm scooped up another bite of pasta and held it out for Brook, watching as she obediently opened her mouth. He offered her sips from her sippy cup between bites, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction in the simple act of taking care of her. She trusted him, and that was something he didn’t take lightly.

“Do you use a pacifier?” he asked.

Brook’s cheeks turned pink, and she hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes. Usually when I’m reading or going to bed.”

His cock twitched at her shy admission. Fuck, he liked that. She was so naturally Little, so sweet and innocent in a way that tugged at every protective instinct he had. Perfect for him. Unlike his ex, who had balked at the idea of even trying a sippy cup, Brook embraced it. She didn’t have to try—it was simply who she was.

When they finished eating, Storm took their plates to the kitchen and rinsed them before loading them into the dishwasher. Brook came up behind him, wanting to help, but he waved her off.

“Good girl for eating your vegetables without a fight,” he praised.

She giggled softly, a sound that wrapped around his heart like a ribbon. “I figured I didn’t have much of a choice. They weren’t terrible, though.”

Storm smirked and took her hand, guiding her toward the bathroom. “You had a choice, baby. But if you’d chosen to battle me, I would’ve thrown them in a blender and fed them to you that way. Daddy will get nutrients into you one way or the other. Or, as a last resort, Doc can help me administer them into your bottom.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and her mouth fell open with disbelief. He could tell she wasn’t used to having a Daddy like him—someone firm but playful, someone who genuinely cared about her well-being. Hell, her ex hadn’t been a real Daddy at all. Storm planned to change that. He’d show her what it meant to have someone in her corner, someone who would take care of her in every way. She wouldn’t have to worry about anything except being her true self.

“Do you have any bath toys?” Storm asked once they stepped into her small, cozy bathroom.

Brook pointed toward the cabinet under the sink, her cheeks pink with shyness and excitement. It pleased him more than he expected to see how prepared she was for Little Space, even without a Daddy in her life. Some Littles struggled to indulge that part of themselves without a caregiver, but she’d clearly found ways to nurture her Little side on her own. She had even proudly declared herself her own caregiver. Even if she had been doing a shit job of it. Fucking adorable.

Crouching down, Storm opened the cabinet and pulled out a small plastic bin filled with brightly colored toys—rubber ducks, boats, and a few squishy animals. His lips twitched into a rare, soft smile as he turned to her, offering the bucket to her.

The sight of her growing smaller before his eyes made his chest tighten. Giving her a bath felt so natural, like they’d been doing it for years. He filled the tub with warm water, adding a bit of bubble bath she’d shown him on the counter, and soon, the room was filled with the soft scent of cherry and vanilla.

As she climbed into the tub, her Little side took over completely. The transformation was almost magical—her giggles echoed lightly off the tiled walls as she splashed in the water, stacking her toys into towers and pushing boats across the bubbles. He knelt beside the tub, watching her as he dipped a washcloth into the warm water and began washing her.

He moved slowly and methodically, starting with her shoulders and working his way down her arms, her back, and her legs. She relaxed into his care with ease, her breathing steady and soft. But when he gently guided the washcloth between her thighs, she tensed for a moment, her breath hitching slightly. He didn’t hover, didn’t make a big deal out of it. Instead, he moved on quickly, respecting her space and comfort. He wanted her to stay in this peaceful headspace for the rest of the night. He thought their time in the bathroom had possibly been more personal than anything else they’d done that day.

When the water finally drained, Brook sighed heavily, her reluctance to leave her bubbles evident. Storm held out a bucket and gave her a single, stern look. “Toys, sunshine.”

She pouted for a split second but obeyed, tossing her toys into the bucket one by one.

“Good girl. Come on, let’s get you ready for ni-night.”

Everything about the process felt easy, natural. The way she slipped her small hand into his, the trust in her wide eyes as she let him wrap her in a fluffy towel, drying her with care before selecting a pair of soft, pastel pajamas from her pink dresser. She didn’t hesitate as he helped her put them on, her movements languid and sleepy, her eyes growing heavier with every passing minute.

It had been so long since Storm had gotten a Little ready for bed, but the intimacy of the moment hit him hard. It wasn’t just a routine—it was a connection, a trust he hadn’t realized he’d been craving or been missing. As he tucked her into bed, he knew he wanted this every night for the rest of his life. The simplicity of caring for her, of being there for her in every way, felt like a gift he wasn’t sure he deserved but would fight to keep.

Once she was settled with a stuffie tucked under each arm, he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her. He would never get tired of this sight.

“Are you too sleepy to talk about limits and rules tonight, sunshine?” he asked.

She looked sleepy, but it wasn’t all that late yet.

“No, I want to talk about them,” she answered. “Will you snuggle me while we talk, though?”

His pulse raced faster, and a lump formed in his throat. Fuck. When had he become such a softy over being asked to cuddle?

“Of course.”

He pulled the covers back and settled next to her, pulling her into his embrace. As soon as she wrapped herself into his arms, everything went quiet in his mind and all he felt was peace. This was perfection.

They held each other silently for a few minutes before Storm cleared his throat. “I want to know about your hard limits first, as well as any soft limits you may have.”

He ran his fingers down her arm, wanting to know everything she was willing to share. A lot of things he would learn as their relationship progressed, but they needed a starting point.

“I guess I wouldn’t like to be called names or be degraded. Um, I’m not sure what else. I haven’t thought about it much. My ex kept things pretty basic. He didn’t like experimenting.”

It took a ridiculous amount of restraint not to let out a string of curse words. With every piece of new information he learned about the guy, Storm hated him more and more. That idiot did not deserve Brook.

“I can assure you, baby, I like experimenting and trying new things, but I’ll never push your boundaries past what you’re comfortable with. Since you haven’t thought a lot about what your hard limits are, I’m going to ask about some specific things.”

Brook nodded and buried herself deeper against his side. If we weren’t careful, he’d get distracted and end up stripping her naked again.

“Do you have any objections to bare bottom spankings, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, being restrained, anal, or me being rough with you within reason during sex?”

She squirmed, and when he glanced down to look at her, her cheeks were bright red. He suspected she wasn’t used to having such blunt conversations.

“Um, well, orgasm denial sounds like it sucks.”

He chuckled. “My question wasn’t if you thought it sucked, I was asking if it’s a hard limit.”

“I suppose not,” she muttered with a little huff. “Although denying orgasms sounds super mean.”

His lips twitched. “Then I guess you better be a good girl so I won’t have to resort to punishing you that way.”