“Good,” I murmured against her pulse. “You wore it for me. You’re here for me. And I am going to spend the rest of the night proving exactly how much Daddy appreciates his girl following instructions.”
My hands found her waist, thumbs resting in the dip above the white lace. “And you listened. So Daddy owes you something first.”
Her lashes lifted. “First?”
“You’ve been good for me for two weeks,” I murmured. “Pictures every morning. Full debriefs at night. My perfect little sub doing exactly as she’s told, even when I can’t get my hands on her.”
“That’s the deal.”
“That’s the minimum,” I corrected softly. “Tonight, Daddy spoils his girl.”
“I’m happy just…” she gestured down between us, cheeks going pink, “taking care of you. You’ve had a week. You look tired, Vince.”
Sweet. Always. Even in white lace that made my brain short-circuit, she was more worried about my schedule than her own pleasure. Something in my chest just… dropped. Fuck, I loved her.
I shook my head. “No baby, you’re coming on daddy’s tongue for the first time.”
A helpless little sound broke out of her, half protest, half anticipation.
I pressed my mouth to hers, slow and sure, letting the kiss answer every last doubt she had left. She melted into it, arms sliding up around my neck, body leaning into my chest like it belonged there.
Mine. My girl. My perfect little sub, in white lace. I guided her down onto the mattress, hands careful on her hips, making sure her head hit the pillow just right.
Her hands came up, palms flat against my chest. “I really will be okay just… helping you. After your week. You don’t have to make a production out of me.”
Production. I almost laughed. As if this was a duty instead of something I’d been starving for.
I caught her wrists gently, lowering her hands back to her sides. “Madeline Thorne,” I said, soft but firm. “Look at me.”
She did. She always did when I used her full name like that.
“I am going to put my mouth on my sub little clit for the first time. And you are going to let me watch my girl come apart. Then, when you’re soft and can’t remember anybody’s name but mine, that’s when you get to worry about taking care of me. Not before.”
Her grip loosened. Trust slid back into place where fear had tried to crawl up. She sank into the pillows, eyes never leaving mine.
And as I kissed my way down, over the bow between her breasts, across the soft plane of her stomach, to the edge of white lace that had already ruined me, only one thought kept looping through my head.
She was still trembling when I dragged my mouth up her throat. My hand drifted down her stomach.
“You know what kills me?” I murmured, brushing a knuckle where she was sensitive enough to gasp. “You gave me your virginity… and now you’re gonna give me your first time in my mouth.”
Her eyes widened. That blush—fuck. The blush alone made my cock ache.
“You want it. Don’t you, baby?”
She nodded. And the way she did it—small, shy, almost apologetic—sent a sickening wave of pride through me. I tipped her chin up with two fingers.
“Say it.”
“I… want your mouth.”
I kissed down her neck again, slower this time, letting her feel me. Her thighs pressed together automatically. I slid my hand between them, prying them open again.
“Ah—no,” I said, almost gently. “Let me see you.”
She opened. God, she always did.
“Look at you,” I rasped. “So fucking pretty… still trembling, still wet—still my good girl.”
