If I’m going to hell, I might as well make it worth it as I slide my hand to the nape of her neck, registering her wide eyes the second before I press my lips to her ear. “I really want to see you touch yourself.” I want to taste that little gasp and swallow her soft moan. “I want a replay of those moments when you bought yourself lingerie in my name.” “I don’t know—” “Yes, you can, darling. You’ll do it for Daddy.” “You are a wicked, wicked man.” “And you are slut for the d-word.” “I just don’t get it. It’s not like anyone would look at us and think is he her dad or her daddy? It’s not like
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