Page 28 of Stripping Little Seraphina
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathless, my lips swollen and my body trembling, she rested her forehead against mine.
“That,” she murmured, voice husky, “wasn’t supposed to happen tonight.”
I smiled, breathless, still perched on her lap. “Then don’t make me get off.”
Her chuckle rumbled low in her chest, warm and dangerous. She smoothed a hand over my hair. “You’ll be the end of me, Seraphina.”
And I realized I wanted that.
I wantedher.
When the heat finally simmered between us, Mistress V guided me off her lap with a steady hand and brushed her thumb across my cheek. “Text your sister,” she reminded softly, her tone calm but brooking no argument.
I grabbed my phone, still trembling, and typed:
Hey Jo. I need to talk to you tomorrow about something serious. Please don’t brush me off, okay?
Her reply came fast:
Jo
Of course, Sera. I’m here. Love you.
The knot in my chest loosened a little, though my stomach still flipped with nerves.
Mistress V read over my shoulder, nodded in approval, then cupped my chin. “Good girl. Now—bath time.”
The words hit somewhere low and sweet. She took my hand, led me to the bathroom, and turned on the water, pouring in sweet-smelling bubbles until the tub foamed. “Clothes off,” she said gently, and I obeyed, slipping into the warm water with a sigh.
She sat on the edge of the tub, sleeves rolled up, washing my hair with slow, careful fingers. Every stroke down my scalp unraveled the last of my tension. By the time she rinsed me off and wrapped me in a towel, I was sleepy and pliant.
She dressed me in soft pajamas, tucked me into bed beneath my fleece blanket, and read from a storybook she’d pulled from my nightstand. Her voice was steady, warm, like it was wrapping me in something thicker than blankets. I fell asleep before she finished the story.
I don’t know how long I slept before the dream came. But it gutted me.
Josephina’s voice, cold and sharp, telling me I was disgusting. That she never wanted to see me again. That I was nothing. I woke with a choked sob, tears streaming down my face. My chest ached, and I couldn’t breathe past the terror clawing at me. Without thinking, I scrambled out of bed and down the hall, my feet carrying me straight to Mistress V.
I shoved at her door and stumbled inside. “Mistress—Daddy—” My voice broke. I was crying too hard to stop myself. “I dreamed she—Jo—she hated me. She disowned me. It was so real, I?—”
She was already out of bed, arms wrapping around me before I finished. “Shh, little one. It was just a dream,” she whispered hoarsely into my hair, holding me tight. “Just a dream.”
I clung to her shirt, trembling. “Can I—can I sleep with you? Please?”
Her lips pressed to my temple. “Yes. Always yes.”
She tucked me into her bed, curling me close to her chest, one arm banded around me protectively. Her heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, an anchor I hadn’t realized I needed so badly.
“Sleep, Seraphina,” she murmured, stroking my hair. “I’ve got you.”
And with her warmth around me, the shadows finally loosened their grip. I drifted back to sleep, safer than I’d ever felt.
Chapter Eleven
Vasiah
Sera’s breathing evened out against my chest. I’d awakened early trying to process everything that had happened yesterday. I lay there holding her, feeling her warmth, the way she unconsciously curled closer like she trusted me to keep her safe.
It felt good. Better than good. It had been a long time since I’d let myself enjoy the quiet of holding someone like this. With Audrey–Emerson’s mother, it had never been this way. She was a Little too, and though I cared for her deeply, she hadn’t wanted commitment, not from me. She’d wanted the play, the fun, the escape—but when I needed her to stand beside me as a partner, she’d slipped away. That was the crack that split us apart, though we tried to patch it for Emerson’s sake.
