Page 72 of Small Town Daddy

"Arms up," I instructed, holding the pajama top in my hands.

She obeyed without a word, lifting her arms above her head. I tugged the fabric of her dress upward, careful not to rush her. The material pooled at my feet, leaving her in her slip.

"Good girl," I murmured, and the tension in her shoulders melted away.

I slid the pajama top over her head, smoothing it down as her arms found their way through the sleeves. She looked up at me then, her green eyes glassy, searching.

"Better?" I asked, brushing a strand of auburn hair from her cheek.

"Better," she whispered, her voice soft and full of trust.

"Sit," I told her, nodding toward the cushioned chair by the window.

She moved to sit without question, and I crouched in front of her, taking her feet in my hands one at a time. The socks came off first, then the tights, leaving her legs bare and delicate in the dim light. I reached for the pajama bottoms, guiding her feet through the openings and sliding them up her legs.

"Stand up for me," I said.

She rose slowly, letting me pull the waistband into place. When I was done, she sank back into the chair, curling her legs beneath her.

"Is that what you needed?" I asked, kneeling in front of her again.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely audible. Her gaze drifted past me for a moment, unfocused, before returning. "Thank you, Daddy."

"Always," I said, cupping her cheek in my hand. Her skin was warm beneath my palm, soft and familiar.

Her breathing evened out as I stayed there, grounded and steady for her. These moments—when the world fell away and it was just Lucy and me—always left me breathless. The intimacy of it, the trust, the weight of being the one she leaned on—it was everything. And I’d never take it for granted.

There was something in the way she looked at me. Something impossible tender. Something raw.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers—a gentle kiss that slowly deepened as she parted for me. Her hands came up to grip my shoulders, pulling me closer until I was half in the chair with her, our bodies pressed together.

“Do you need something more, Baby Girl?”

"I need you," she whispered against my mouth. "Please . . ."

I knew that tone, the aching vulnerability beneath the surface. Scooping her into my arms, I carried her to the bed, laying her down with reverence. She looked up at me, eyes dark with want, as I undressed us both.

"You're so perfect," I murmured, trailing kisses along her neck, her collarbone. "I love every single part of you, baby girl."

A soft moan escaped her lips as I caressed her breasts, teasing the sensitive peaks. I took my time worshipping her body, savoring each sigh and shiver my touch elicited. When I finally settled between her thighs, she was quivering with need.

"Please, Daddy . . ." Her hips canted toward me. "I want you inside."

Slowly, I pushed into her warmth, groaning at the exquisite feel of her. We moved together, tender and passionate, lost in the intimacy. I nipped at her lower lip, losing myself in her taste.

"That's it, baby," I praised as she tilted her hips to take me deeper. "You feel so good."

Her nails raked down my back as the pleasure built, our bodies finding a primal rhythm. I angled my hips just right and she cried out, clenching around me as her orgasm crashed through her.

"Daddy, please . . ." she panted. "I want . . . I need you in my ass. Please fuck me there."

I stilled, searching her lust-clouded gaze. "You're sure?"

"Yes, god yes. I want to feel you everywhere. Please. . . ."

Grabbing the lube from the nightstand, I slicked my fingers and circled her puckered entrance. She shivered, pushing back against my touch. I worked her open slowly, carefully, until she was writhing beneath me.

"I'm ready," she whimpered. "I need your cock. I can't wait anymore. . . ."

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