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“Reading.” He nodded as he scrubbed the cloth over her back.
“What about dolls? Tea parties? Legos?”
“Oh, I think I’d like Legos.”
He scrubbed the cloth down her arm, keeping his voice light. “You’ve never had any?” Her face fell slightly as she shook her head.
“Legos were for boys,” she muttered. “Mother said I couldn’t have them. But I found some from when Christopher was a kid in storage and played with them. When she found out, she threw them away.”
He paused, staring at his girl as she ran her fingers lightly through the water. Her mother had a lot to answer for. The fucking bitch.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said softly, and she shrugged.
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t, though. It wasn’t okay that she ever felt anything other than loved by her fucking family. Here he was, thinking his childhood sucked, and then she had to deal with the shit she did.
At least his parents just left him and Beck the fuck alone. Let him take care of his little brother the way he wanted and stayed out his way. Abbie clearly wanted her family’s approval—maybe she just wanted her mother’s approval. But she never had it, and likely would never have it. And it fucking killed him. Tore his heart apart for her.
“I’ll get you some Legos,” he said, moving onto her legs. “I’ll get you all the Legos you want.”
She beamed up at him, that sad look on her face gone. “You don’t have to buy me anything, Daddy,” she told him, and he snorted.
“You’re just saying that to be polite,” he said, and she nodded unashamedly.
“You're right. You’ll really get me some? Can I pick them out?”
“Sure thing, baby. We can go tomorrow.”
“Really?” She bounced a few times, clapping her hands together. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, soaking his jeans; but she didn’t seem to notice or care, and when she had that happy look on her face, he didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. He had extra towels; he could clean the mess up later.
He dragged the cloth over her chest, and she gasped, her eyes widening. Their gazes met and held as he slid it over her breast. “Lay back, pretty girl.” She obeyed, slowly lying back and letting him run the cloth over her body, paying extra attention to her peaked nipples.
By the time he was dragging the cloth down her stomach, she was a whimpering, wiggling mess. “Stay nice and still,” he said, his voice husky. She whined, but stayed still as he slid his hand between her legs, letting the cloth float in the water.
Fuck, she was so hot. So wet. He dragged his fingers lightly over her lips, loving the way a blush bloomed across her chest and up her neck into her face. She gripped the edge of the tub as she stared up at him, her breathing shallow.
“You’re so wet, baby girl,” he rasped, spreading her lips apart with his fingers. “For me?” He tapped his finger against her swollen clit, and her mouth fell open.
“Daddy,” she moaned. He could feel her restraint, how hard she was holding onto the tub, trying not to move.
“I know,” he murmured. Slowly, he circled her clit, watching her breath hitch. He kept a slow, steady pace, not wanting to end this too quickly. “Does that feel good, baby?”
“Yes.” She reached for him, gripping his shirt tightly in her hand. “Please. Please.”
“Please what, pretty girl?” He moved his finger faster, then slid it lower. Her eyes widened. “Ever had something inside you?”
“Um.” Her fist tightened on his shirt. “Yes.” His brows lifted.
“What?”
“Tampons,” she muttered, her face flushing. He nodded, circling her entrance lightly, teasing her.
“What else?”
“My fingers,” she whispered. His cock was about to fucking snap in half.
“I want to watch you fuck yourself,” he told her. “I want to watch your little fingers disappear in your tight virgin pussy. You’d let me watch, wouldn’t you, baby?”
