Page 126 of Merciless Daddy

“May I?”

“Yes.”

He opened me.

The exposure made my face burn. I was already wet. Slick enough that the inner skin shone beneath the bedside lamp.

Sal’s expression changed.

“Christ.”

Pleasure moved through me at the roughness in his voice.

He stroked one finger through the wetness. My hips jumped.

“Sensitive?”

“Yes.”

“Too much?”

“No, Sal, not too much.”

He touched me again. Slowly. His finger traveled from my entrance to my clitoris, circling once before sliding away.

I made an impatient sound.

His mouth moved.

“Don’t you dare smile.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You are—I can see!”

“Ok, maybe I am, a little.”

He repeated the motion. Again. Each time he touched my clitoris, he watched my face. When my brow tightened, he lightened the pressure. When my hips followed his hand, he pressed harder. He learned quickly.

Too quickly.

His middle finger slid inside me.

I gasped.

“Good?”

“Yes.”

Another careful thrust. Then his ring finger joined it. The stretch made my thighs shake. He curled them forward, searching.

When he found the place that sent a hard pulse through my body, I grabbed his wrist.

“There.”

“Don't worry, I know.”

“Arrogant.”