Page 62 of Off-Limits Daddy
His eyes darkened, jaw flexing like he was barely holding back.
“Fuck, Ari. You’re perfect.”
He pushed the shorts the rest of the way down, slow and reverent, letting the weight of them fall. I stepped out of them, heart thundering.
He didn’t rush. His palms slid over my thighs, then up—cupping my ass through the lace, fingers squeezing, thumbs brushing the crease.
“Ever since the black lace, I haven’t stopped thinking about it. How you looked. How you felt. And now—” his fingers skimmed the red edge, reverent, “—you show up in this? Fuck, baby. You’re gonna ruin me.”
I sucked in a breath as he bent, dragging his mouth over my stomach, his beard scratching gently at my skin.
“Turn around,” he said.
I did, pulse hammering.
He kissed between my shoulder blades, then lower, hands mapping me like he never wanted to forget the shape of me. I felt his fingers slide under the lace, tracing the edges.
Then—gentle but firm—he pushed the fabric aside.
I heard the click of the nightstand drawer. The pop of the lube cap.
And then his fingers were back—slick and insistent.
One finger slid in, and I gasped, my forehead dropping to the edge of the mattress.
“Good?” he asked, voice low, controlled.
“So fucking good,” I panted. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He worked me open with quiet intensity, pausing only to kiss the dip of my spine, the curve of my hip. When Daddy added a second finger, scissoring gently, I moaned loud, hips rocking back when he foundthespot. My legs trembled. He added a third finger and I was in heaven.
“You take me so well,” he whispered. “Knew you would. That’s it, let me in, baby. Let me feel you open up for me.”
“Need you,” I breathed. “Need to feel your cock—want it so bad.”
He growled low in his throat, the sound gravelly and reverent.
“You want me to fuck you in this lace?” he asked, fingers still moving. “Or do you want it off?”
“Don’t care,” I gasped. “Just want you inside me. Want you to make me feel it for days.”
He kissed the base of my spine. “Then hold still, sweetheart. I’m not done getting you ready.”
His fingers slipped out slowly, leaving me empty and aching.
“Hands on the bed,” he said. “Spread your legs for me, baby.”
I did, bracing myself at the edge of the mattress. My pulse pounded in my ears, my thighs trembling slightly as I widenedmy stance. The lace was still pushed to the side. I could feel it clinging to my skin, damp with sweat and want.
Daddy stood behind me for a long second, breathing hard. I could hear the sounds—the faint scrape of denim as he shoved his jeans the rest of the way down, condom wrapper, more lube. A moment later, I felt him—his cock thick and hot, sliding between my cheeks once, twice, not pushing in, just letting me feel it.
“Still want it?” he asked, low and rough.
I looked over my shoulder. “Need it. Need you inside me. Please, Daddy.”
He groaned—ragged, helpless—and lined himself up.
“Deep breath,” he murmured, planting one hand on my hip. The other gripped his cock.
