“Now, say it,” he growls. “Who is going to take care of you?”
“You are.”
“Good girl.”
My breathing turns to shallow pants.
And that’s when I feel it. A movement. A twitch against my backside.
Hard.
Thick.
Pressing beneath me.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t hide it. He lets mefeelwhat I do to him.
And when I shift in his lap, he groans in a way that shakes me down to my marrow and my nipples nearly pop through my white button up blouse.
“Daddy…” I whisper, the title I used for him over the years feels decadent on my tongue. I haven’t called him that for so long. That word is for little girls not for eighteen-year-olds that know better.
His whole-body jerks. That thickness under my behind nearly catapults me off his lap.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he rasps. “The Daddy I am to you now is not the same as I was then.”
The way his arms engulf me makes my pulse tick faster.
There’s a spinning sensation inside my head like I’m falling.
And I squeeze my eyes shut and hope.
He feels it.
Just like me.
Chapter 2
Dane
She’s the temptation I’ve fought for so long. I’ve wanted to fuck that little pussy of hers more than I want to breathe.
Daddy.
She hasn’t said that for three years, five days. And I can’t breathe.
She doesn’t know what that word means to me. What it unlocks.
But her body melted when she said it. My dick jerked and filled. I know she felt it.
Her thighs squeezed together, her ass wiggled on the boner I’ve been fighting off since she turned eighteen. Her eyes flicked to my mouth, then back down, like she knew—knew—what she’d just done.
"Baby," I choke, locking her in my grip, "you don’t understand what you’re playing with."
She wiggles again.
And again, and I think of lifting her skirt, moving her panties aside and sliding my cock between her ass cheeks, just letting it sit there, sandwiched in that softness.
That’s not so wrong, is it? Letting her skin cradle me. Maybe use some of that lotion of hers that smells like strawberries and sin so I’ll slide back and forth while she wiggles on my lap.