Your Dad's Perfect
The dark-haired one’s lips curl into a smile.
“You’ll refer to us as ‘Daddy,’” he says, running his fingers through my hair. “If you feel you’re close to finishing, beg for permission. We won’t give it, but if you’re lucky, we might go easy on you. Take what you want without permission, and you’ll earn yourself a punishment.”
I nod, swallowing. “Okay… Daddy,” I whisper, feeling his approval settle around me as he leans in, his fingers stroking along my cheek.