Page 3 of Michael

I brought my hands up to my face, ready to cry. "You hate me and you're never going to be proud of me again."

It was true, I knew it. His eyes would never again light up because of something I'd done.

He wrapped his hands around mine, brought them to his mouth and ran his lips across the back of my fingers.

"I love you, sweet girl."

"Not the way I want you to." I looked up, saw something darken his gaze. Uncurling my fingers, I brushed the tips against his lips, along his jaw.

"You're going to grow out of this infatuation, Celeste. You're still so young."

"No." I shook my head emphatically. "Laura was pregnant with me when she was my age!"

Another shadow passed over him, bringing with it a sad, wry smile. "And look how she turned out."

A little angry at the suggestion I could ever be anything like my mother, I pushed at his shoulder. "I would never be cold to my child." I curled my hand around the back of his head, knotting my fingers in his hair. "I'd never be cold to you."

He stretched one hand towards me, his fingers lightly dancing against the small area on my throat of exposed skin. I tilted my head back, revealing more of my flesh to him in offering.

His hand slid between the robe's lapels, parting them as he reached up and gripped my shoulder. His other hand slid between the curve of my waist and the mattress, tugging me to him.

Pushing me onto my back, daddy Mike drew in a shaky breath. Propped on one elbow, he was above me, his body not quite touching me except for the light brush of his fingertips along my arm and my waist. Slowly his mouth descended to cover mine.

I surged against him, my hips cresting to meet his as my lips parted, his tongue sweeping in to tease mine. He cupped my breast, gently pressed it up and squeezed as our kiss deepened. My whole body sighed, the sensation rolling through me, lifting me closer to him.

He broke the kiss and buried his face against the hollow of my throat, lipping the skin, then back up my throat to press a hard kiss under my chin as he rolled me onto my back. He slid the robe off my shoulders, revealing my breasts, his gaze slowly devouring my flesh. I tried to pull him back down to me, but he pinned me in place.

"Let me look at you, Celeste. You've been teasing me so long. That half-closed robe every morning, the way you lean forward reading the paper, your shoulder jutted out at just the right angle for me to see your soft pink nipples."

I moaned and squirmed beneath him, my heart singing. He'd noticed, desired, refused himself only because he loved me and wanted to protect me.

"And this, baby girl." He reached down and forcefully cupped my pussy. "Last Thursday, no panties."

Just the tip of his middle finger pushed between my labia and slowly stroked my flesh.

"You were wet then, too. I could see it on your thighs...wanted to lay you out right there on the table and eat my fill of this sweet pussy."

I arched against him, forcing his finger into me as I softly cried out. I jerked once, twice, so close to coming already. "Do you want to eat me now, daddy?"

"More than anything." He slid down my body, teasing me with hard little kisses as he went.

He paused a little too long at my nipples, teasing them until I was forced to plead "Lower!"

He grabbed my thighs, held them shut as I struggled to open them. "Daddy, please!"

"You teased me for so long, Celeste." He brushed his nose against one straining nipple and then took its tip between his teeth to tug at it.

I was dr

ipping with desire, the contractions running hard and fast through me. I moaned, begging him. Please, daddy, please.

"Can't I tease you back?"

Pressing my lips together, I nodded, squirmed. His thumb stretched up, parting my labia just enough to let him brush lightly against my clit. "It's so swollen...and wet," he said.

I shook my head quickly back and forth and continued to squirm as he drew circles around the throbbing button. "Not wet enough, Daddy."

The tip of his tongue darted out and slowly licked the middle of his top lip. "Shall I make it wetter?"

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