She’s going to balk at my next plan, too, but it can’t be helped. I hold her tightly with one hand so she can’t squirm free and take a tumble to the floor as I pad into the kitchen. When I open the fridge, she glances inside and sighs. I say nothing as I snag one of the bottles.

Ava isn’t breathing. Her eyes are wide, but not focused on me. I want to know what she’s thinking, but I don’t dare ask. It can’t be good. I carry her to the rocking chair.

“No,” she says with all the conviction she can muster as soon as I adjust her in my lap and lift the bottle to her lips. She purses her lips hard and turns her naughty face away.

I would chuckle if it wouldn’t hurt her feelings. I know it’s going to be challenging helping her learn to submit to me, but she can only hold out so long. Eventually she will give in. In the meantime, I’ll probably be exhausted, but she’s so predictable already that I’m fighting the urge to laugh. I’m running out of things to shock her with, though. Just a few more.

“You said you were thirsty, Little one, and I know you have to be after three orgasms and all the energy it takes you to argue and fight with Papi. I didn’t see you get a drink in the bar earlier, either. I bet you didn’t have time, which means you haven’t had a sip of anything since you left your apartment.”

She twists her head away, her entire body turning with her. “I’ll have water, in a glass.”

“You’ll have formula, in a bottle,” I inform her gently.

She shakes her pretty head. Her hair is almost dry, and I like seeing how it looks naturally. It has far more wave and curl than earlier. It will be so pretty up in pigtails or even braids. I’ll probably put it in pigtails for a while, but I suspect she will hate it.

Since when am I deviously plotting ways to make my Little girl more frustrated? I think about that for a moment and then realize that’s not it at all. It’s that I know deep inside Ava will ultimately prefer pigtails over braids. She will fight me every step of the way, but I will win because I’m the Papi, and she’s far more submissive than she wants to admit.

I suspect she sort of knows on some level, which is why she’s being so defiant and disagreeable.

I rock her gently, holding the bottle up for her to take. She’s thirsty. Her lips are so dry. I can tell by the rumble of her tummy she’s also hungry. “Did you eat before you came to Club Zoom, Baby girl?”

“Why do you care?” she grumbles as she tries to cover her breasts with one hand.

“Because my job is to ensure you’re healthy, Little one. I bet you didn’t have dinner. You need the calories in this formula.”

She finally meets my gaze, her glare full of frustration. “So what I’m learning is that not only do you want me to be Little, but super young like a Baby. You’re going to feed me and make me use diapers.”

I decide to respond to her indirectly. “We cherish our mates on my planet, Ava. In every way. Papis are doting and protective and controlling. We’re wired that way, Baby girl. Yes, I will take care of every single one of your needs. I will hover. I will not let you out of my sight very often. I will have rules that are meant for your safety and protection. I will also worship you, snuggle with you, rock you, hug you, play with you, and make you scream with pleasure. I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. I want to see you smile and laugh. It will take time for you to adjust. I understand that, Little one. It’s expected. But no matter how long it takes for you to accept me, you eventually will. You’ll realize no one on Earth has a bond like we will. There is no human male you could have met who would have treated you like I will. You are my life, and deep down you already know it. You can feel it in your heart. So, you can be stubborn. I kind of like knowing that you will challenge me every step of the way. But you need to know that no matter what you say or do, it will change nothing. I will still be your Papi. Nothing can break the bond we have already developed. No matter how long it takes you to submit to me, I won’t waver. I won’t even get angry, Baby girl. I will wait for you.”

I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten to her on some level. Her eyes look watery. Her bottom lip is quivering. “I don’t want to submit to anyone,” she whispers.

The poor thing tears at my heart. I roll her closer so her breasts press against my chest. I kiss the top of her head. “I know, Baby girl. It’s hard at first. It’s foreign and different, but I promise it will eventually feel right.”

“It won’t.” Yeah, she’s stubborn.

“One step at a time. You’re hungry and thirsty. Take the bottle for me. What can it hurt? It will fill your tummy and quench your thirst. Who cares if it comes from a bottle?”

“You do because you’re controlling.”

I chuckle. “I’ll give you that. I am controlling. But I will smother you with love at the same time.” I kiss her temple. She smells so much better now that I’ve removed the combination of scents she’d been wearing.

We survived bathtime, a spanking, and diapering. I love that she’s now free of hair products and makeup. She’s so pretty she takes my breath away. I lean her back and look down at her breasts, taking in the dusky nipples that have been hard since I unveiled them.

They will be hard for the rest of our lives after I have them pierced. There’s not a chance in hell I’m going to tell her that part prematurely, but I’m thinking pink. Perhaps morganite. A soft pink/peach color will look amazing against her skin.

“Stop staring at my boobs,” she mutters. She tries to cover them again, but I gently remove her hand and bring it to my lips so I can kiss her knuckles.

“You’re so pretty, Little one. I’m going to stare at you a lot.”

“Can I have my dress back now?”

Here we go. I haven’t even won the battle of wills over the formula, and we’re moving back to the clothing discussion? Crap. “No, Baby girl. You don’t need your dress.”

“What am I going to wear? Will John pick up clothes for me?” It’s like she never heard me tell her she won’t be wearing clothes.

I shake my head. “No, but if you have some personal items you don’t want to leave behind, he’ll grab those. I can send him a list. Would you like to discuss that now?” I’ll do anything to avoid repeating the clothing conversation.

She frowns. “Fine. I’d like some pictures that are in a photo album on the shelf under my nightstand. And…” She hesitates.

“And what, Baby girl?”

“You won’t judge me?” She narrows her gaze again.

“Never.”

“The doll my mother bought me when I was three is next to the photo album. It’s all I have of my mother.”

“I’ll make sure John gets it.” I’m so fucking pleased to know she has a doll. “Anything else?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, makeup, clothes, hair products. Whatever you don’t have, I’d like to bring it, though Lord knows what I’ll do when it runs out.”

I chuckle. “You won’t need any of those things, Ava. Little girls don’t have makeup, hair products, or clothes on Eleadia.”

She closes her eyes, inhaling deeply through her renewed frustration. She’s fighting back another round of tears. She needs a bottle and a nap.

I tap her lips with the nipple. “Please drink for me, Little one.”

I’m relieved when she relents, letting the nipple into her mouth. It takes her a few moments to get the feel of it, and then she’s sucking, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest.

This is a moment I want to freeze for eternity. My Little girl, snuggled in my arms, her hair a wild mess of curls because I haven’t combed it or styled it, wearing nothing but a diaper, and finally taking her first bottle.

She’s precious, and I will cherish her for the rest of my life. No matter how long it takes for her to adapt, I will not lose my cool. I knew this could happen, and I was even more certain when I first saw her. On Earth, she might have been a dominant female, but she’s been lying to herself. Underneath the tough exterior is a submissive. I just need to coax her out.

For fifteen blessed minutes, my Little girl sucks down her bottle. She does so because she’s so thirsty and needs the nutrition. The fight has run out in her. She needs rest.

I stroke her skin while she suckles, trying to sooth her with my touch. I know it helps. Holding her helps, too. When we’re chest to chest like this, she will always calm. I could use my quill on her, and maybe I should have done so more than I have, but I didn’t want to cause her to argue that I’ve influenced her.

My serum can definitely influence her. I can use it to enhance her pleasure. I can use it to put her to sleep. I can also use it to dull her pain or completely numb an area of her body if need be. But my serum isn’t actually controlling her. She’s drawn to me as strongly as I’m drawn to her because that’s the way of Fate. Deep down, she knows this is true, but accepting it will take time.

When the bottle is empty, I rise carefully so as not to disturb her, pad into the bedroom, and grab a pacifier from the same container where her diapers are.

The moment I pop it into her mouth, she resumes suckling, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she relaxes further in my arms. The poor thing is totally worn out.

I hate to put her down. I’d rather continue to hold her, but I need to do some things while she naps, so I ease her onto the bed, cover her with a soft blanket, and prop pillows around her. I don’t want her to fall off.

The first thing I do is change out of these uncomfortable dress pants and into the stretchy black pants that are common among my people. The next thing I do is send a text to John, listing the things I’d like him to get from Ava’s apartment. I suspect he’ll need to go for Mia, too.

Moments later, my phone rings. It’s Surgient. I answer immediately. “Hey.”