The Institute, Daddy Issues(45)

“And?” Dr. Lucy promp­ted. “What else? Do you wish to pen­et­rate her…en­vel­ope her? Make love to her?”

“I want to taste her,” Salt said softly, still look­ing at me. “I wish to spread her thighs and taste her soft, sweet pussy un­til I feel her com­ing against my tongue.”

I felt a strange quiv­er­ing in my stom­ach. Yes­ter­day the thought of let­ting any man give me “spe­cial kisses” between my thighs had made me feel in­tensely un­com­fort­able. But that was be­fore I’d bared my emo­tions to Salt and found noth­ing but un­der­stand­ing and ac­cept­ance. Be­fore I’d cried in his arms and tasted his mouth when he kissed me so des­per­ately I could tell he was starving for me—starving the same way I was for him.

Wait—what was I think­ing? I dragged my eyes from his and looked down at my hands.

“Well…I think we know where both of you stand. And it’s a good deal closer to­gether than you thought.” There was a fi­nal­ity in Dr. Lucy’s voice that made me think we were fi­nally wrap­ping things up.

“I guess our time is up,” I said, fi­nally hop­ping off Salt’s lap with a mixed feel­ing of re­lief and re­gret.

“For now. If you have fur­ther prob­lems, please be sure to come back. How long will you be at the In­sti­tute?” she asked.

“For as long as we have to be,” I muttered.

“To cul­tiv­ate our new roles,” Salt fin­ished for me, smoothly. “We wish for best pos­sible re­la­tion­ship and do not in­tend to leave un­til we feel com­pletely com­fort­able to­gether as Papa and mishka.”

“That’s an ad­mir­able goal, Mr. Saltanov.” We were all stand­ing now and she held out a hand to Salt. He took it and they shook. I no­ticed she did not of­fer me the same cour­tesy.

Dr. Lucy seemed to know what I was think­ing.

“You’re won­der­ing why I didn’t of­fer to shake your hand too, right?” she asked me.

“It would have been po­lite,” I said a bit stiffly.

“But I wouldn’t have offered to shake the hand of a bio­lo­gical little girl who was here with her Daddy,” she poin­ted out. “Your trip into Little-space be­gins now, mishka. I want you to do the best you can to really get into it be­fore you go back to your suite to­night. In fact, right after lunch, I want you to go to the play­room and have a play-date with some of the other Littles. Maybe that will help you.”

“Wow, two as­sign­ments in one ses­sion,” I re­marked. “I bet you’d be pop­u­lar as a teacher—prob­ably as­sign a whole pile of home­work.”

She smiled. “Now there’s a younger thought. Dwell on that. And hold your Papa’s hand—he’s here to keep you safe, you know.”

Re­luct­antly, I held out a hand to Salt who took it and en­twined our fin­gers.

I didn’t really mind this part—I liked the feel­ing of his big hand en­vel­op­ing mine. But if she thought we were ac­tu­ally go­ing to do the other piece of “home­work” she had as­signed us, she was crazy. There was no way I was let­ting him touch me in­tim­ately—es­pe­cially not while I was in Little-space—as if I could even get into that mind set!

Of course, we couldn’t let Dr. Lucy know that. Hope­fully this would be our first and last ses­sion with her and we could go on to solve this case without get­ting fur­ther en­tangled in the mess of con­fus­ing emo­tions which threatened to con­sume us.

But as I held Salt’s hand trust­ingly and let him lead me from the room, I thought of the pas­sion­ate kiss we’d shared and wondered if it was already too late. If we had already done ir­re­par­able harm to the part­ner­ship which was the most im­port­ant thing in my life.





Chapter Seven

The play­room was a large space filled with all kinds of toys and play equip­ment. In one corner was a low, round table stacked with col­or­ing books and cray­ons where sev­eral Baby­girls were col­or­ing. In an­other were some easels, paint pots and brushes. One of the Littles, who ap­peared to be a girl in her twen­ties, was paint­ing a house with a stick fig­ure fam­ily out front. There was a play castle com­plete with prin­cess and dragon cos­tumes, a set of mon­key bars with a mat un­der­neath it, in case someone fell, I guessed, and a lib­rary corner with a shelf full of brightly colored pic­ture books.