RavenHis hand closed over my wrist and guided it gently away. Then his fingers were there instead, and the difference was immediate — the difference between trying to tickle yourself and someone else doing it. He found my clit with easy, unhurried pressure and I gasped so hard I almost choked on it. “There she is,” he murmured. “Daddy.” “I’ve got you.” He worked in slow, deliberate circles and I grabbed a fistful of sheet with my free hand. “You feel that?” “Yes… God… yes—” “Good girl.” My hips rolled up into his hand without my permission and he let them, adjusting the pressure, reading me in a way I couldn’t read myself. I was already trembling. “You’re so wet,” he said softly, almost to himself. “You’ve been like this all morning, haven’t you? Waking up like this every day and not knowing what to do about it.” “Every day,” I admitted, and it came out like a confession. “That’s okay.” His finger pressed down just slightly and I whimpered. “Daddy’s here now.” Whe
Última atualização : 2026-03-21
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