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"John," I plead with him. "I'm not going to fight you. I just need to know that you're not going to freak out on me and that I have some form of control over my own life."
"You do," he answers immediately. "You can do whatever you want. You can leave whenever you want." His eyes narrow, and his jaw hardens even further. "But you're not going to. Because you're addicted to me. And I'm addicted to you."
I chew on my lip and look away from him. "That's what worries me. This can't be normal, John."
He looks at me for a long moment and then shakes his head. "Who gives a fuck what's normal, Melanie? All I care about is how I feel about you. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to upset you. I just want to show you how much I need you. How much I want you. If I can't show you, then I don't know how to put it into words."
"I understand that," I tell him, "and I feel the same way. I want to be with you all the time. I want to spend every second of every day wrapped up in you. I'm just not sure we can pull it off in the real world. We're already so dependent on one another. But we still need to be able to function separately."
"Why?" he challenges me.
I blink before I stammer, "Because...because it's the way it's supposed to be...I think."
John lets out a humorless laugh. "You don't even know why. Melanie, baby, do you realize you're trying to distance yourself from me based on some preconceived notion of what you think a relationship is supposed to be like? What the fuck is normal anyway? What's normal for us is what we make it. Did we happen fast? Yes. Do I regret any of it? No. Do I have any doubts about us? No."
John takes my hands in both of his as his eyes continue to blaze down at me, the fire in them only matching the passion of his speech. "Melanie, you areitfor me. From the moment you came waltzing into my house in that little red dress, Iknew. I don't know how. I don't know why. I don't really give a fuck about all those little details, honestly. All I know is I wantyou. Forever."
John releases one of my hands. He tugs at my hair until my head falls back, my neck bending backwards. His lips find the base of my neck, nipping me, sending shivers running through me. "I want to see you naked, tied down, spread open, and moaning my name."
His fingers find the hem of my shirt. He tugs it up and over my head, tossing it aside. His lips find their way back to mine. He kisses me, hard and deep. It's carnal. It's greedy. It's like he's starving for me.
He palms my breasts. His fingers find my nipples, which have already perked up and are poking into the palms of his hands. He groans into my mouth. "See how much your body responds to me, baby? You know I'm your daddy? So, why fight it?"
"John," I let out a shaky half sigh, half moan. I don't know what I was going to say. Was I going to keep fighting this? Why do I need to go home? Something about normalcy and independence?
But maybe John's right. Maybe none of that matters. Maybe all that matters is how we feel about each other.
His hand slides down to pet my clit, and I collapse into his arms, my knees turning to jelly.
"Fuck, look at how wet you are for Daddy, baby," he growls.
I can't help it. I moan loudly. The sensation is like a bolt of electricity shooting through me.
"Fuck, you're mine, Melanie," he rasps. "And I'm going to do whatever it takes to remind you of that."
I hear him unzipping himself and then his heavy erection is pressing against me.
"Yes," I gasp, nodding my head desperately. "Yes, John," I pant, the word coming out like a plea. "I'm yours."
Why was I ever fighting this? He's right.
"Yes, Daddy is always right," he croons to me as if he can read my thoughts.
And with that, all the tension breaks. Suddenly, John is kissing me. It's aggressive but tender at the same time. His fingers continue moving against me. He rubs me slowly, teasing me. Then, slowly, he slides his fingers up, until he hits my clit. This time, I'm not silent. I let out a loud moan.
John kisses me—hard—his tongue sliding into my mouth. His fingers continue to rub my clit, and I let out another loud moan. I'm practically grinding myself against his hand.
His fingers find my pussy again, and this time, he slides them inside of me. I gasp.
He kisses me again, gently this time.
"You're so wet for Daddy, baby. You're drenched."
He continues to kiss me as he slides a second finger in. Then a third finger.
I let out a groan.
And now, he's pumping his fingers into me. Each time, he slides in deep, hitting my G-spot.
