“And you don’t think that’s at all creepy?” she teases.
“No.” I push off the wall and walk toward her slowly. “It’s endearing.”
She sets the book down, her eyes following my every step. When I reach the couch, she shifts to make room for me, but I shake my head and drop onto the cushions beside her, tugging her into my lap.
“You’re warm,” she sighs, curling against me.
I run a hand down her back, my fingers brushing over the light bumps of her spine through the thin fabric of my shirt. She’s only wearing panties beneath it. I know that because I helped her dress after our shower before letting her wander off to read.
My hand stills just above the base of her spine. “Comfortable?”
“Mmm,” she hums. “I like it here.”
Here. Withme.
I tilt her chin up toward me. “I want to take care of you,” I whisper.
“You already do.”
“No. I mean, I want to remind you what it feels like to be worshipped. To be mine.” Her breath stutters as I slide my hands under her shirt, gripping her waist. I haven’t fucked her since the night I took her ass. Not because I haven’t wanted to—fuck, have I wanted to—but because I wanted to give her plenty of time to heal after how rough I was. Both physically and emotionally.
“Do you trust me?”
She nods. “Always, Daddy.”
Without breaking eye contact, I slide my hand between her thighs. The damp fabric of her panties clings to her.
“What did I catch my dirty girl reading?” I teasingly whisper in her ear. “Because you are absolutely soaked.”
She squirms, burying her face in my chest to hide her embarrassment.
I hook my fingers into the waistband and slowly peel her tiny panties down her thighs. They’re already drenched. She shivers as I dust the back of my hand along her mound.
“I’m going to make you come on my hand,” I inform her, pushing her thighs apart. “At least twice. Before I even let you touch me.”
She nods again, her lower lip trembling.
I run my hand up her inner thigh and cup her heat, sliding one finger between her arousal-coated slit. She gasps and arches into my touch.
“So needy already,” I exhale against her neck. “Have you been thinking about Daddy’s hands? Reading that naughty book and thinking about my fingers in your tight little pussy?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
I slide a finger inside her, slow and deep. She moans as I tease her with it, barely giving her what she needs. “Eyes on me,” I command. “Watch how much I enjoy pleasing you.”
She lets out a soft cry and grips my shoulder when I ease a second finger inside her. Her walls tighten around my fingers, wet and pulsing. I move them just right, hooking, pressing, rubbing the perfect spot while my thumb strokes her clit in slow, tight circles.
Her mouth falls open, and she struggles to keep her stare locked with mine.
“That’s it,” I encourage, a smile pulling at my lips. “Come for me. Let Daddy feel how sweet you are.”
She shudders against me, her head falling to my shoulder and her body arching as she comes undone. Her moan is choked, helpless. I slow, giving her time to come down from hereuphoria. “I could watch you come all day long.” I brush my lips against hers before denying her. I take my time, fingering her slowly and deeply until her pussy is quivering around my fingers once more.
This time, I don’t stop. I don’t give her a chance to catch her breath. My fingers rub demandingly against her most sensitive spots, as my free hand holds her thighs open.
“I can’t,” she whimpers. “It’s too much?—”
“You can.” I stroke her clit harder, curling my buried fingers until her hips buck. “And you will. For Daddy.”
