Daddy’s Naughty Girl 7

He didn’t wait for me to say yes.

His hand slid from between my legs up to my neck, fingers curling gently but firmly around my throat, not squeezing, just holding, claiming.

He backed me up until my thighs hit the edge of the pool table, then lifted me easily so I was sitting on the felt, legs spread around his hips.

“Look at me,” he said, voice low and rough.

I did.

His eyes were dark, intense, like he was seeing straight through every lie I’d ever told myself about wanting to stop.

“You came down here,” he said, thumb stroking my pulse point. “You’re dripping through your shorts because you want this. So don’t lie to me, or to yourself.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the truth of it in every cell.

His other hand moved back between my legs, rubbing harder now, the friction making me gasp.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“I want it,” I whispered. “I want you.”

He smiled slowly, dangerously.

“Good girl.”

Then he kisse