Page 106 of Second Chance Daddy

His other hand palms my other breast, rough, possessive, squeezing hard like he’s reminding me exactly who I belong to.

“Please,” I beg, tugging at his hair, needing more.

He lifts his head, eyes glittering with dark promise. “Turn over.”

I hesitate, just for a second, and his eyebrow arches. “Trust me, Cass.”

Fuck yes, I do.

I roll onto my stomach, the silk of the negligee sliding up to my waist as I move, baring myself completely for him.

His hands find my hips, lifting me slightly.

“Christ, look at you,” he murmurs, his palm sliding over the curve of my ass, fingers hooking in the string of the thong. “This ass is gonna be the death of me.”

He moves lower. Then his hands are on my thighs, pushing them apart. I bury my face in the pillow, embarrassed at how desperate I already feel.

His fingers trace the garters, sliding down to where they clip to my stockings. “These are nice,” he whispers. “But they’re in my way.”

He grips my ankle, dragging me to the edge of the bed in one sharp pull, his eyes blazing.

“You look like a fucking sin,” he growls, palm skimming up my calf, over the garter. “My sin.”

I shudder under his touch, my thighs parting without thought, his hand sliding higher, teasing the lace of my thong.

“You know what this does to me?” His fingers hook under the fabric, tugging it down, slow, torturous. I lift my hips to help, and then it’s gone, tossed somewhere across the room. “This tight little body wrapped up just for me… legs spread, tits out, all fucking mine to ruin.”

“Dante,” I breathe, turning my head to look back at him. “Stop teasing.”

His smile is pure wickedness. “But you’re so pretty when you beg.”

I bite my lip, heat pulsing low in my belly.

He leans in over me, lips ghosting over my ear.

“I’m gonna wreck you, baby,” he whispers, voice pure filth, his hand sliding higher, fingers brushing my already soaked folds. “Tease me like that, you better be ready to pay for it.”

I arch into his touch, wrecked already, and he smirks, fingers stroking me slowly, dark eyes heavy with possession.

“Look how wet you are,” he snarls, teasing my entrance. “Fucking dripping for me, all dressed up like a goddess.”

The words hit low, hot, and filthy, making my thighs shake.

His hands shove my thighs wider, spreading me open. His hot breath hits my pussy, and it has my hips twitching before he even touches me.

“Gonna taste your cunt now,” he growls. “Been thinking about this pussy all fucking day.”

The first swipe of his tongue nearly breaks me—a long, slow, devastating drag from my clit down.

My hands fist the sheets, breath punching out of me, legs shaking with the effort of staying still.

“So fucking wet,” he groans. “Every damn time… always soaked for me.”

Then he dives in.

No teasing.

No patience.