Lucifer crouched down. "Baby, what's the matter? Was that too much? We don't have to do it again if it upsets you."
Hermione shook her head. Dick sucking wasn't scary; it was fun. She loved making him mental.
But now their fun was ruined. She'd let him down.
It was like failing a test, except a trillion times more humiliating.
"Look at me," he whispered.
Hermione opened her eyes, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears.
His brow contracted with apprehension. "Why are you crying, love? Are you injured?"
She shook her head again.
Lucifer studied her for a moment then delicately entered her mind, holding her so she couldn't look away.
Hermione didn't want him to see what she'd done, but he was going to find out sooner or later, and she definitely didn't want to be the one to tell him.
Lucifer's frown lightened when he realized the cause of her distress. "Did some of the water come out?"
She looked away.
"That's all right. Sometimes little girls have accidents. I told you I wanted to take care of you. You didn't think I'd be upset, did you?"
"You told me to hold it," she whispered. "I couldn't do it, and now . . ." Now she felt like an incontinent toddler.
"Don't worry, you made it the ten minutes. It's just water. All you've got is a wet nappy. Now come along, let Daddy take care of you. I'll make it all better."
He kissed her cheek, and some of her anxiety faded. She felt ridiculous. And mortified.
But also a little hopeful. He really didn't seem bothered.
He was handling the situation with aplomb. Daddy Dom aplomb.
Hermione sniffled, and he handed her the bear.
Giving him a watery smile, she hugged Colonel Brandon to her chest, curling into his gooshy body.
Lucifer offered her his hand, and when she was standing, he took her over to the changing table. "I've got to pick you up. Are you ready?"
She nodded and braced herself.
The trip was a short one, and he was extra-gentle, but her muscles were straining to keep her bum sealed, and being in a seated position wasn't helping.
"Okay, baby. Lie down."
Hermione tipped onto her back and closed her eyes, exhaling a jagged stitch of tension from her chest.
"Why don't you lift up your shirt for me. Let Daddy see those pretty pink nipples."
His cajoling tone quieted her inner turmoil, and she obligingly rolled her shirt above her tits.
Lucifer took her stuffed bear and, pinching one arm between his fingers, waggled it up and down so it looked as if Colonel Brandon was waving at her.
When she giggled, Lucifer brushed the bear's plush paw over her breast.
She couldn't help arching into his furry caress, her senses yearning to be soothed.
"Colonel Brandon loves your nipples too," he quipped. "I want you to keep him right here while I take off your nappy, all right?"
Hermione nodded and did as he said, trying to concentrate on the comforting feel of fur rather than the rattled nervousness of nappy time.
Lucifer kept one eye on her as he pulled the adhesive tabs open and peeled down the front.
"See?" His inflection suggested there was nothing to fear. "Just water. It's barely anything. In fact," he said, stretching to the side and opening one of the hidden drawers, "I don't think this nappy is nearly wet enough. Let's see if any more comes out with a little extra . . . incentive."
Hermione lifted her head, an anxious grimace contorting her face, but he just smirked and kicked the pile of bears out of his way so he could stand at the short end of the table near her feet.
Grabbing her by the hips, Lucifer dragged her to him.
The backs of her ball socks hit his shoulders, and he held on to her calves so she'd leave them there.
When she relaxed, he turned his head and placed a kiss to the arch of her foot.
"That's it. Nice and calm. Just give me a second to get ready."
He twisted open a little jar and slathered his cock in some kind of oil.
Spellbound, Hermione watched as his erection gleamed in the lamplight. Was he going to . . . ?
Lucifer lubed his fingers and spread her arse. Two digits eased inside, and Hermione almost shot off the table.
Sweet Circe! Some of the water leaked out, and she sucked in a silent whimper, panic seizing her throat.
"Good girl," he murmured. "Get Daddy's fingers all wet. You like the way that feels, don't you?"
It was certainly keeping her attention.
Nudging his length between her cheeks, Lucifer tapped at her back door. "I'll help you hold in what's left. Ready, baby?"
Was he seriously going to bugger her with all the water still inside? Where would he find the room? Muffy demanded answers. And demonstrations. "I . . . I think so."
His eyes locked on hers, and her stomach did an impromptu breakdance on her pancreas.
That thrill of penetration-anticipation washed over her just as it always did, but this time something was different.
Drastically different. There was no shield between her gaze and his.
No wall. No buffer. He was right there—with her. Not studying her, or peering at her in that calculating way he did.
Nor was he leering. Or mesmerized.
The intimacy flowing between them seemed like something that should have been joyous and carefree, and it might have been, except, for the first time ever, she was looking into the eyes of the real Lucifer Morningstar.
A boy she'd never met. A veritable stranger.
Yet she felt as if she'd known him all her life.
The man before her didn't need sneers or glares to keep the world at a distance.
He was whole in himself, secure, exactly as he was meant to be.
This was the Lucifer he could have been had life seen fit to deal him a kinder hand.
That's when it hit her. She suddenly understood what those new colors in his aura really meant.
This wasn't a game. This wasn't sex. This was atonement.
And she was his path to transcendence.
While that revelation could have frightened her, in that moment Hermione felt only gratitude.
It was a blessing to see an innocent man finally set free.
And he was innocent. Past deeds aside, the lonely boy who had disappeared into himself all those ages ago had committed no crime.
And that was what she saw: a man with a child's eyes, hope burning in his black gaze, cautiously curious after so many years locked away.
But there was a playfulness there too, an excitement for life she'd never seen from him before.
That he would trust her with such a fragile piece of his soul . . . The responsibility was staggering.
But the honor, that was wondrous.
Something like pride—but infinitely greater—suffused her heart.
It lifted her high, above her worries, above her embarrassment.
The word trust took on new meaning, blending so seamlessly with love she didn't know where one stopped and the other began.
Her chest constricted, and a bolt of effervescence shot to her head, leaving her dizzy with elation.
Her mind began to float away; she could almost picture it fading into the distance.
xxxxxxx
Author's Note
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