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“Yes,” she gasped. “I like it.”
He moved to her other one, giving it the same treatment. “How about bondage? Can I tie you up and fuck you?”
“Please,” she moaned, dropping her head back.
“Anal?”
“Yes,” she squeaked, her face flushing.
He continued playing with her nipples as he contemplated asking her the final question. But he didn’t want to scare her away. Would it be too much?
But he had to know.
Leaning forward, he ran his nose along her jaw as his free hand snaked between her legs. She was hot and soaking wet for him. A low growl ripped from his throat as he nipped at her neck.
“And what if Daddy called you his pretty little slut? His perfect little whore? How would that make you feel?” He rolled her clit between his fingers as he kissed along her neck.
“Yes!” she cried. “Please, Daddy. Yes!”
“Yeah? That turns you on? Being Daddy’s good slut?” She groaned as she gripped his shirt in her fists, holding herself up.
“God, yes. I want that. I want to be that for you.”
“You’re so perfect for me, pretty girl. So fucking perfect.”
He pulled away, but her grip on his shirt tightened. “I’m close—I haven’t?—”
“Shh.” He ran his fingers through her slick pussy lips again before pulling away. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“Bullfuzzies,” she grumbled.
He grinned as he pressed a kiss to her nose. “Bath time.”
Moving to the tub, he turned the water on and looked around at the sad state of things. No toys, no bubble bath, no soap that smelled like her. He’d have to remedy that soon.
Turning, he held his hand out to her and held his breath, waiting for her to reject him. But she never did. Instead, she slid her palm against his and let him lead her to the tub. He lifted her into the warm water, and she sighed as she sat back, letting it coat her skin.
“Sorry I don’t have anything for you,” he grunted as he kneeled beside the tub. “I’ll get you some stuff tomorrow.”
“It’s okay,” she said shyly. “I don’t need anything.”
“Your Little might want some things to play with, though.” He hesitated, unsure of what to do. He’d never bathed anyone before. “Want to wash your hair?”
“No, thanks. Can I have a scrunchie?” Yeah, he definitely didn’t have any of those. “I have one in my bag. In the side pocket.”
Jumping to his feet, he rushed to her bag and looked through it, finding a giant, silky pink scrunchie, and took it to her. Well, he assumed it was a scrunchie. He didn’t know what the fuck that was.
“This?” He held it up, and she eagerly nodded, taking it from him as he knelt again. He watched as she effortlessly tied her hair into a bun at the top of her head. He’d need to learn how to do that, maybe how to braid, too. It seemed like she liked her hair braided.
He’d never done any of this before and felt weirdly anxious about fucking it up. Punishments, cuddling, playing? He could do that all day. But this? It was different. It felt more intimate.
Clearing his throat, he reached for a clean washcloth and poured soap on it. It was his, so she’d smell like him and not her usual sweet scent, but he didn’t mind. It felt like he was marking her with his scent, and his caveman brain liked it. A lot.
“What kind of toys would your Little like?” he asked casually. He wasn’t sure how young her Little was, but judging by her playing with her toys earlier, he didn’t think she was that young.
“I like coloring,” she said, and he nodded. He assumed she’d like that. “And painting.”
“What else?”
