Page 130 of Heir

“It seemed I didn’t do a good job at taking care of you this morning,” I said, taking hold of her outer thighs.

“What do you mean? You always take care of me.”

I smiled a little at the vehemence in her voice in coming to my defense.

“No? I didn’t give you your morning orgasms.”

“That’s a thing?”

I nodded, setting my expression to neutral. “Oh, yeah. I promised myself I would make you come at least once a day.”

“That’s a lot of orgasms,” she breathed out.

I laughed. “It is.”

Her chest rose and fell with every harsh pant. Her eyes swirled with dark desire, and her lips parted, begging for me to kiss them.

Not yet. I would kiss my pretty girl, but not yet.

“You see, I have a lot to make up for,” I said.

“You do?”

“I do.”

She let out a soft sigh. “Okay.”

I chuckled, my hands moving up her thighs. She squirmed a little. “Are you wet for me, pretty girl?”

I wondered if she noticed her hips were rocking slightly on the table. Fuck, but the thought that she might leave something behind… I would never look at this table the same again.

“Baby, answer me. You don’t want me to punish you, do you?”

“P-punish me, how?”

Was my baby intrigued by the idea?

“Pull your shirt up.”

She hesitated.

I firmed my voice. “Do it, pretty girl. I want to see your cute little cunt.”

Slowly, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, baring more of her thighs, then her pussy, her soft stomach, those fucking hips—fuck me, but those fucking hips would be the death of me—then, further up, her ribcage.

She stopped.

“A little more.”

She bit her lip and pulled it up until her tits were exposed, her pretty pink nipples hard from her arousal.

“So fucking pretty,” I said, reaching out and playing with one hardened nub.

Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t say anything. I grabbed her tit fully in my hand.

A perfect fucking handful.

“Lie back on the table for me,” I said.

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