Cain has had his pup for only a few weeks and he is absolutely smitten with her. She's such a precious little thing, clinging tightly to him and mumbling happily while wearing her colorful onesie and chewing on her dummy. Nobody would've guessed that he had gotten her just a few months after her eighteenth birthday. She's such a bright, happy Pup.
It's a new adventure for the both of them as she gets used to her new life being taken care of and he learns to share her with his packmates.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
He eats his own breakfast as she drinks her milk, something mushy and gross that looks like oatmeal with fruits and a cup of coffee.
She remembers coffee in that vague sort of way she remembers everything else in her past. That is to say, she doesn't remember very much at all. It had felt very weird and foreign in the beginning, when she was certain that she shouldn't be feeling so weak and pathetic and she most definitely shouldn't be letting someone baby her like she's an actual infant. She turned eighteen a few weeks ago and she should be able to have a job, own an apartment and take care of herself.
Instead, she's 'adopted' by an Alpha Werewolf who takes pleasure in providing all her needs. She knows these sort of programs exist for Alpha Werewolves to adopt a human— well, baby. But it's the same way she knows that the sun is really far away. When it comes to all the important details, she's clueless.
She should have done her research back then since she can't do anything now.
It was so hard in the beginning. She wasn't used to being taken care of, much less being provided so absolutely that she doesn't need to do— well, anything. But she realizes that it's not as simple as just being his baby. The longer she stays here with him, the more she realizes how much pleasure taking care of her gives him. He is genuinely happy wrapping her up in a diaper, cleaning said diapers when she makes a mess of them, cleaning her, making her milk bottles and just holding her all day long.
The worst (best?) thing about it is how easy it is for her to get used to being babied, being carried around and hugged and held. It's easy to just let him do whatever he wants and surrender to what he wants to do to and with her. A part of her is worried about what comes after. There's a reason why they 'adopt' only after the person has turned eighteen. She worries about that every time he changes her diaper, but he's never touched her inappropriately so far. What started off of as 'what if he touches me?' is gradually turning into, 'why won't he touch me?'.
She's so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn't realize she's reached the end of the bottle and is absentmindedly sucking in air, swallowing a few gulps before her brain catches up and she's whimpering unhappily. Her stomach is kinda bloated already though. She remembers going hungry a lot when she was living in the streets and now she's fed like clockwork.
“Finished your bottle, baby?” he asks needlessly, taking it away so she's no longer chewing on the nipple.
Immediately, she puts her thumb to her mouth, sucking absently.
“No, darling,” he chides, pulling her finger out with his finger again. His thumb tastes like oatmeal. She licks it greedily, sucking and chasing after the taste, but he pulls his finger out together with her thumb. “No sucking, baby,” he says and she pouts. “There's a good girl.” He praises.
He shifts her on his lap so that she's straddling him on the chair, their chest pressed together. He alternates between rubbing her back and patting until she burps and then peppers her face with kisses to reward her for doing so well, snuggling her into another embrace.
She whimpers and puts her thumb back in her mouth.