Her eyes go wide. "What? That’s one hundred percent carbs—"
"Open."
Her hands are in her lap, wrists pressed together in a perfect position for binding.
The tick, tick of her pulse in her neck matches the thump, thump of my own as blood floods my groin. Her pupils dilate.
Her lips part slowly.
Victory surges through me, hot and sharp.
I place the bread onto her tongue, my fingers brushing her bottom lip.
Soft. So fucking soft.
Warm and plush and perfect, and the contact shoots through me like lightning, like I’m being touched by her everywhere at once.
I grit my teeth to keep from groaning as I watch her chew and swallow.
“Lift your dress.” The words come out of my mouth before I have a chance to second-guess them, and her eyes snap wide. She shakes her head. I drop my voice to a low growl. “You heard me, Larissa, now do as Daddy says and lift the hem of your dress.”
Her pupils are blown wide as she studies my face, but she complies, hands moving, scrunching the fabric, shifting it maybe six inches up her legs.
“Further. All the way up.”
“I’m not going to flash you my—”
“All the fucking way, Larissa.”
No attachments. No exceptions.
I watch her obey, lifting the skirt up her creamy thighs until the tiniest little pure-white panties are revealed, with a growing wet patch where her cunt is indenting the fabric. And I can fucking smell it. Her scent.
It’s all around me, filling my nostrils, filling my fucking mind.
“Who told you to wear panties?” I demand.
“What? I thought—”
“I specifically gave instructions for the dress and nothing else.”
“I didn’t put on a bra…” She falls silent as I glare, understanding finally that when I give instructions, they are to be followed to the letter. No room for negotiation.
“Pull your panties to the side and find your clit with these two fingers.” I hold my index and middle fingers up, showing her what I want.
“No.” Her cheeks flush, and she looks down, and rage floods through me.
I grip her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Do you think you have any choice, Larissa? Do you think that’s what this is? A negotiation?”
For the briefest instant, she hesitates. Then she scowls, but her fingers hook into the elastic of her panties and pull them aside, revealing a sight that will live with me to the end of my days.
Which, with the way my heart is hammering in my chest, might not be much longer.
I watch her fingertips glide over the sensitive outer lips, glistening under the overhead lights. There’s a hint of curls there, natural but barely enough to dapple the outer lips.
“Good girl,” I tell her and see the pleasure spread over her features. Then I pick up another piece of bread and push it into her mouth. "Rub your clit in a slow circle and chew."
“Pervert,” she snaps, but her lips stay open, her fingers continue moving, and Dear God, I nearly bust my nut in my pants.
