I gasp. Air whooshes from my lungs. He can’t mean that.
He has one brow lifted as though challenging me to test him on this topic.
“Do you understand, Little one?”
I nod.
“Yes, Papi. I understand. I won’t play with my naughty titties or my pussy.”
I suck in oxygen. My brain isn’t getting enough.
“Repeat that back to me, Little one,” he orders.
My face heats.
He waits.
I shudder as I comply. “I won’t play with my naughty titties or my pussy,” I whisper. The words are naughtier than the actions.
“Good girl.” He strokes through my folds. “Has anything been inside your cunt, Baby girl?”
I’m certain my cheeks are bright pink. “No, Papi.”
“Not even your fingers?”
“No, Papi.” I’m embarrassed, but he smiles as though he’s pleased.
He circles my clit again. “I’m going to push one finger up inside your cunt, Little one. It will be tight, but eventually you’ll want Papi’s cock inside you, and I don’t want it to be more painful than necessary. So I’ll start preparing your pussy to be ready for me.”
I want that so badly. I don’t even comprehend what I’m silently pleading for, but I am.
Papi holds my gaze while he eases a finger into my tight channel.
Stars fill my vision. There are no words to describe how good it feels. I gasp and buck futilely. He holds my torso down with a palm against my pelvis. Meanwhile, his other hand does unimaginable dirty things to me.
When his finger is as deep as it will go, he grinds his palm against my clit. “Does it hurt, Baby girl?”
I shake my head. It certainly doesn’t hurt.
He wiggles his finger around inside me, making me whimper. I’m going to faint like I did earlier but for entirely different reasons.
“Do you want more, Little one? Do you want Papi to add a second finger?”
“Yes, please,” I manage to whisper.
“Such a good girl.” He pulls his finger almost out and then pushes two of them into my tight channel. This is so naughty. My mother’s voice is on the edge of my mind, but I chase it away again. I practically shout at my dead mother in my head to go away and leave me alone. This is my Papi. It’s not wrong or bad. This is so nice. It can’t be wrong.
When his palm presses against my clit again, he curls his fingers inside me and drags them across some special place that pushes me out of my body.
I’m poised for a second at the top of a cliff. I teeter, gasping and uncertain. What’s happening to me? And then I fall off the other side. I’m partially aware of someone screaming, and I think it’s me. The only thing that exists is the pulsing of my channel around Papi’s fingers and the throbbing of my clit against his palm.
It’s the best feeling in the universe. Heaven. All of the heavens combined.
Papi continues to stroke inside me, easing up gradually until his lips come to mine and he removes his hand. “You are the most precious Little girl who was ever born. You’re mine. Do you understand?”
I nod. I’m his. There’s no arguing that point.
He cups my face and makes me look at him. Through my haze, I listen intently. “Have you ever experienced that before, Little one?”
