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He growls and clutches me tight against him. “Because I’m barely hanging on by a thread here.”
“I don’t want you to hang on at all!” I wrestle against his tight grasp.
“I like it when you struggle.”
“I like it when you come,” I retort. “I may not have experience, but my understanding is that other men—”
“No need to finish that thought.” He grunts. “You want to make Daddy come?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”
“Then we can take a bath together. Very gently.” He kisses my forehead. “Out of bed with you.”
In the bathroom, he starts the bathtub running, then sits me on the counter. He casually plays with my tits as I brush my teeth, making me giggle.
“What? I like them. And I haven’t given them nearly enough attention yet.”
“They need a thorough washing,” I say solemnly. “Lots of soapy attention in the tub.”
“I agree.”
“Good.” I shyly lean back and lift my legs up, revealing my sex. “This needs attention in the tub, too.”
“Always.”
The hungry look in his eyes is addictive.
I wonder what else I can say that will make his need burn this bright. “Want to be naked with Daddy in the tub. Wriggle against you. Tempt you.”
He leans in, so big as he looms over me. “You tempt me every single second of every single day. Naked. Clothed. Giggling. Growling. There is never a moment that I don’t want you.” He kisses my mouth softly, then harder. “But that is possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. My little Sienna is dirty, dirty girl.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He helps me into the tub, then sits with me in front of him. He washes my hair, then my arms and shoulders, taking his time to get to my breasts.
We both sigh when he finally cups them, his big hands fully covering my flesh. He rolls his thumbs over my slick mounds, finding my nipples and teasing them to hard, tight diamonds. Over and over again he rolls and flicks and pulls, and in between returning to kneading my soft swells with that same possessive grip that made me so wet last night.
His attention stokes a new kind of heat inside me, a slow, sizzling burn type of desire. One that doesn’t feel like it’s going to flame white hot and explode imminently, but I might carry it with me all day.
And when I finally realize that I’m moaning quietly, it’s only because he covers my mouth gently with his fingers.
“Be a quiet girl for Daddy,” he whispers. “I’m going to wash your sweet little pussy next.”
I press my lips together and turn my head, pushing my face into his neck as one of his hands glides down my quivering belly.
His fingers gently trace the shape of me, from the outside at first, both lips, then nudging in, carefully wiping away any residue from the two times he came inside me last night.
“Fuck a Christmas baby into my baby.”
I shudder.
“Sensitive?” he murmurs. Against my back, his cock throbs. He likes that.
“Yes,” I whisper. But I don’t just mean physically. I’m so desperately in love with this man that I don’t want anything between us, and yet we haven’t had a proper conversation about the future.
Because I’m so sensitive, I’m terrified that he might not want everything I want.
He said he does.
