I moaned softly. I’d been excited to see him, and he did not disappoint.
“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured, “like all my favorite flavors rolled into one.”
I giggled again, not knowing what to say to that. “So can I have my present, Daddy? I’ve been a good little girl.”
There was a tiny twitch in his left cheek, his jaw tensing, and then he smiled. “Sure, go ahead, open it.” He passed it to me.
Hurriedly, I sat on the sofa and placed what seemed to be a box shape on my lap. Presents were a rarity. Sure, Becca and I always remembered each other’s birthdays and traded at Christmas, and we did a Secret Santa at the office, but other than that…
I shook it. It rattled, a lot.
He laughed and sat next to me, his jean-clad thigh shoving up against my bare leg. “Do you know what it is?”
“Not a clue?”
“So open it.”
I did as he’d asked and took the present out of the bag. “Oh…I…” It was a Disney jigsaw; a Magical Kingdom scene with all of the princesses and the dwarves and Dumbo in front of the castle. Very detailed. Five hundred pieces.
“I…thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He took the plait closest to him in his hand and stroked the ribbon. “You can lie on the floor and do it while I watch TV. Should keep you busy until bedtime.”
“I’m not sure I’ve done a jigsaw before.”
His right eyebrow lifted slightly as though he was surprised. “There’s no time like the present to have a go.” Hetook the jigsaw, opened it, then set it on the floor in front of the TV. “Start by turning all of the pieces over so you can see the picture and then begin at the corners, joining the sides.”
“You want me to do it now?” I’d been expecting him to orchestrate an activity with less clothing.
“That’s what I said. I’ll sort food.” He pointed at the floor. “Lie down, get puzzling.”
I slid from the sofa to my knees, feeling suddenly very small, and crawled to the jigsaw box. I lay down, on my stomach, and stared at the image of Cinderella.
“Now you get on with that like a good little girl,” he said and ran his hand from the nape of my neck to my ass. Slowly. His fingers sliding on the silky material of my nightwear and tapping over my spine. When he reached my ass he had a proper feel of each cheek, a squeeze, and then a tiny smack.
“Oh!” I caught my breath. It hadn’t hurt. I just hadn’t expected it.
“Make Daddy proud,” he said. “Because I know you can do it.”
I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to do the puzzle in record time. So I started turning the pieces over and spreading them out.
After a few minutes he came back, squatting at my side this time and once again running his hand down my back to my ass. “Excellent start,” he murmured by my ear then kissed my temple.
A thrill went through me. His attention and praise was addictive.
“Keep at it.” He ran his hand from my left buttock to my right then slipped his fingers between my legs, just catching my pussy over the material. And then he was gone.
I held in a whimper. I wanted more of his touch there. More of him. More of fucking everything.
Chapter Eight
Mitch
Trying to organize food when the sexiest woman I’d ever met—yes, that was a fact—was lying on the floor in sinfully short pajamas, long socks, and concentrating on a task to please me, was not easy. I read the heating instructions five times on the veggie flan and then decided we’d have it cold. Everything cold. Like a picnic. Because I couldn’t fucking concentrate.
I adjusted my hard-on in my jeans and drank a glass of water. She was eager for my touch and hungry for my kisses, which was a good start. But if I was going to make her come, properly, then I’d have to take it slow…until she was begging for it and she’d gone past the point of return.
An orgasm was the only outcome.
