Page 7 of His Little Sapphire

“Yep.” I resume tugging her jeans over her hips, taking her panties with them.

My Little girl, who was relaxing against me just moments ago, is now wide awake and panicking. I can feel her elevated heart rate and sense her unease. She shakes her head again. “No, no, no. Stop.”

I ignore her and easily tug her jeans and panties off her body even though she struggles and fights me, squeezing her thighs together.

Her hand flies to her pussy, covering it, cupping herself. It’s cute how she tries to hide from me. I’m not surprised. I spent months learning about Earth and human females. I’m aware of their learned modesty. I know it will take time for her to adapt to our ways. She will, but I need to be patient.

She winces as I lean her forward to pull her shirt over her head. She’s squirming and protesting as I release the clasp of her bra at her back and quickly slide it off.

“No. Please. I can take my own baths,” she whimpers, trying to cover her pretty little breasts and her pussy at the same time.

Now that her clothing is in a pile on the floor, she’s not quite as sticky, but the alcohol combination did seep through her clothes in several places, and the tight braided roll of hair at the back of her head seems to be covered in syrup.

My Little girl is flailing now. “Put me down.”

I roll her against me, holding her so our chests are touching. I love the feel of her soft breasts against me. Even though she reeks of beer and liquor, I can smell her essence under it all, and I inhale deeply, nuzzling her neck.

She’s still wiggling, but she’s no match for me. Even under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be able to legitimately get loose from my control. I’m two feet taller and outweigh her by triple. She seems strong by human female standards, but there’s no comparison to my bulk and strength.

The only problem is I’d rather she not be further injured, and I wouldn’t want her to slip from my arms and fall. I grab her tiny wrist and pin it to the small of her back. Her other arm is trapped against my torso.

I can’t resist kissing the sensitive skin where her neck meets her shoulder, and I love the little shudder that makes her entire body tremble. I kiss her ear. “Stop squirming, Baby girl. Let Papi bathe you.”

She shakes her head. “No. Please. I can do it.”

“From now on, Papi will wash you, Little one. It’s our way.” I lick a small spot behind her ear, grateful to taste only Christine and not alcohol. Finally, I nick her skin there, piercing her with my quill in the very sensitive spot.

She cries out and stiffens. “Ouch. What are you doing?” Her body slowly relaxes in my arms, and after a minute, I’m able to release her wrist.

The slight sedative wouldn’t have been my first choice so soon after meeting and claiming my feisty little mate, but I need her to calm down so I can wash and examine her. There will be time for explaining later.

Her eyes are wide with fear as I lower her into the basin. The water is the perfect temperature, but she wiggles as much as she can as if I’ve burned or frozen her.

She immediately draws her knees tight and covers her breasts with both hands. Her bottom lip is quivering. Tears leak down her precious cheeks. “What did you do to me?”

I’m not sure if she means just now or in general, but I keep one hand behind her neck to help support her while I splash the still-rising water over her naked little body. “My quill can do several things, Little one. My serum binds you to me, but I can also use it to numb you, calm you, or even help you sleep.”

I lean her forward and reach for the back of her head, intent on removing the tight roll of hair.

She sits mostly upright, her knees squeezed together and bent, her hands covering her small breasts. She’s underweight. Has she not been eating enough?

I work her hair free of a few clips and then a band. As I unravel it, I realize for the first time how long it is. Very long. I bet it reaches past her butt. The long tresses fall into the water as she trembles and whimpers.

When I lean her back again, I keep one hand behind her neck. I don’t know how strongly she’ll be affected by my serum. It’s impossible to know. The quill I was born with that retracts behind my front teeth has been used for the first time today.

Though the time and place to use the quill is inherent in me like breathing, its purpose is to bind our mates to us, help them calm in instances of fear, help them sleep when needed, anesthetize them when warranted, and arouse them. Until we find and claim a mate, the quill exists retracted in our mouths.

I’m watching my Little girl closely to make sure I haven’t given her more of the slight sedation than warranted. She seems to have full mobility still, but her heart is no longer beating as ferociously.

I carefully lean her back to fully wet her hair in the basin and then reach for a pump of the shampoo on the counter.

She bites into her bottom lip, eyes wide as I run my fingers through her hair, washing it. I rinse and do it again to ensure I get all the sticky alcohol off.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispers as I rinse a second time. Her eyes are wide saucers.

“Your body is binding to mine, Little one. It’s the way of my people.”

“I have to get back to work,” she murmurs, though I’m pretty sure she’s at least partially aware that isn’t going to happen. “I promised Zack this wouldn’t happen.”

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