"Mmm, I like the sound of that," he purred. "Next time, call me Daddy."
He eased forward, just the head pushing in, stretching me open in an aching burn that made my fingers curl against the surface. "You like that, Veda? You want me to be your Daddy?" Then he stopped, holding there, letting me feel every inch of what I still didn’t have.
My body clenched around him, greedy and helpless.
My core screamed for more.
I could easily back onto him, take my fill, and satisfy that urge, but something told me waiting it out would be much better.
That Asher knew what he was doing and I would be wise to let him lead.
"Yes, Daddy," I whimpered painfully, though I desperately wanted him inside me now.
“Good,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “Now we start.”
He pushed forward in one long, claiming slide that filled me so completely, my breath caught and held.
Every inch stretched me open until his hips pressed flush against the back of my thighs and I felt him throb deep inside.
For a moment he stayed perfectly still, letting me adjust to his sheer size, letting me feel exactly who I belonged to right then.
His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “Don’t move,” he ordered softly, but so gently, I wanted to obey him. “You stay right there and take it exactly how I give it.”
I nodded against the table, cheek sliding on the cool wood. My left hand shifted, looking for something to hold, and my fingers brushed the phone again.
The screen lit for half a second—still recording every ragged breath, every wet sound—then went dark.
He drew back slowly, dragging against every sensitive spot, then drove back in hard enough that my whole body rocked forward. My moan came out broken.
“Louder,” he demanded. “Tell me who I am. Say it, pretty girl.”
“Daddy,” I gasped, and it was more of a whimper than a word.
“Again. Say it like you mean it.”
“Daddy, please?—”
He rewarded me with another deep thrust, then another, setting a steady, punishing rhythm that had my thighs shaking. “That’s my girl,” he growled. “You wait for me. You come when I say. Not before. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whimpered, clenching around him.
Every roll of his hips dragged him along the sensitive place inside me and made my breath hitch over and over.
“You feel how full you are?” When he spoke, it did things to me, such bad things, I couldn't stop from flushing. “That’s me, sweetheart. All of me inside you. And you’re taking it so well.”
I whimpered, nodding against the table, completely lost.
His hand slid around my hip, fingers finding my clit and circling gently at first. “You’re going to come for me now,” he rumbled. “Just like this. Slow and perfect. Because I told you to.”
The words melted me. I couldn’t fight him.
He kept that steady, unhurried rhythm, filling me again and again while his fingers stroked me exactly right.
Pleasure built inside me, coiling tighter with every thrust.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, “let Daddy feel it. Show me how good you listen.”
I broke open on a long, trembling moan, clenching around him in waves that left me shaking.
