Page 321 of A Vicious Love

“Say things plainly with me,” I said. “You can say lube. You can say cock. You can say you’re wet. You can tell me you want my fingers or my mouth or more. No polite suffering in this bed.”

She covered her face with one arm.

I caught her wrist and moved it gently aside. “No hiding.”

Her laugh trembled. “You keep saying terrible things and then telling me not to react.”

“I want the reaction.”

I added my thumb to her clit and moved slowly, working her open around one finger until her breathing changed from nervous to needy.

“There you go,” I said. “That’s my girl, such a good girl riding daddy’s finger.”

Her mouth parted. “Jamison.”

“I know baby, I know. My baby needs more of daddy.”

I gave her a second finger only when she was soft enough for it. Even then, I went carefully, pressing in by degrees.

“Talk to me,” I said.

“It’s full, and um only your fingers?”

“Yes, baby.”

She gave me a look. “That is not helping your argument that you’ll fit.”

I laughed before I could stop myself, then kissed her knee in apology. “Fair. But this is how we make it possible.”

“You still look too pleased.”

“I’m proud of how tight you are.”

Her eyes widened. “Jamison.”

“I’m also proud of how brave you are. Is that better?”

“A little.”

I moved my fingers a fraction, just enough to test. Her breath caught, but her thighs loosened around my hand.

I started a slow rhythm, shallow at first, then deeper as she relaxed. My thumb circled her carefully, enough to give the stretch somewhere sweet to go. That was the trick. Never let her body learn discomfort without pleasure following close behind.

Her fingers dug into my arm. “That feels…”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“Good?”

Her cheeks went pink. “Yes.”

“Then say good.”

“It feels good.”

I rewarded her by curling my fingers just enough to find that place again.