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When she reaches for me, I catch her wrist. “No.”

She whimpers. “Please.”

“You haven’t been a good girl.”

“Daddy,” she breathes, and the word hits me again, lower this time, right in the gut. I can see the triumph on her face. My wife knows exactly how that word hits me. “Please, Daddy, I need you.”

I slowly stand up, shrugging off my suit jacket before I remove my shirt. “Do you now?”

At her nod, I undo my pants and push them down. I’m out of my clothes in seconds, everything on the floor—and I lie down on the carpet on my back, my hard cock leaking pre-cum against my stomach.

“Then come here.”

Kira willingly jumps off the table and kneels next to me. I reach for her and maneuver her so she’s straddling my hips, her wet pussy hovering just above my cock. Her breasts bounce with the movement, nipples hard, and she braces her hands on my chest, her fingers digging into the tattoos there.

“Grind on me,” I tell her. “All over my cock. Use me to make yourself come again.”

She does. God, she does it beautifully—rocking her hips, sliding her pussy along the length of my shaft, her wetness coating me from base to tip. I reach up to cup her beautiful breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers until she moans.

“You’re so big,” she gasps. “And hard, and I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“I’m dripping all over you, I can feel it, Daddy.”

Fuck, for someone so innocent, she has a filthy little mouth once she forgets to be embarrassed. Maybe that’s all it is. She gets lost in what she’s feeling, and the words come before she can second-guess them. Whatever the reason, she’s a natural.

I slide one hand between us and rub my thumb through the slickness coating my cock, then bring it to her clit. She jerks, a broken sound tearing out of her throat. I circle her clit slowly, watching her face.

“You like having my cock wet with your cum while I play with your clit?”

“Yes,” she whimpers. “God, yes.”

“Keep grinding.”

Her rhythm finds itself again—slow, then faster, her pussy sliding along my length, her clit catching on the head of my cock with each forward rock. I watch her face the whole time—the way her lips part, the way her eyelids flutter, the way her breath comes in short, desperate gasps.

“Am I doing okay, Daddy?” she asks, and her voice is so small, so uncertain, that something in my chest cracks wide open.

I rear up and grab her throat, pressing my thumb against her pulse. Then I kiss her. Hard. Teeth clashing, lips bruising, my tongue forcing its way into her mouth while she moans against me.

I taste blood—mine or hers, I don’t know—and the metallic tang only makes me kiss her harder. Her hands claw at my shoulders, my chest, anywhere she can reach, and when I break the kiss, we’re both breathing like we’ve run a mile.

I grab her hips and buck up against her, grinding my cock against her clit. “You turn me on so fucking much,” I growl against her mouth. “Look at you. Grinding on my dick like you were made for it. So fucking beautiful.”

She comes with a sob, her thighs shaking against my hips. I don’t stop. I keep grinding against her, keep rubbing her clit, until she comes again, harder this time, her whole body seizing.

Before the aftershocks have even faded, I grab her and spin us around. She’s on her back on the carpet now, her hair fanned out around her head, her eyes dazed. I kneel between her spread thighs and grip my cock, stroking it hard and fast.

“Hold your pussy open for me,” I tell her. “Both hands. Show me where you want me.”

“Mmm,” she moans as she spreads her lower lips, exposing her pink, swollen entrance, glistening wet and begging.

I position the head of my cock right against her opening and stroke myself twice, hard, and then I’m coming. I shoot my cum all over her entrance in thick, hot stripes, painting her pussy with it, watching it drip down to her ass.

She moans, her hips lifting, seeking, and I slide two fingers through the mess and push it back inside her, working my cum into her while she whimpers.

“Fuck,” I groan. The sight is beyond perfect.