Page 67 of Her Possessive Daddies

She doesn’t answer, but the way her hips press into mine says everything. I chuckle, low and dark, my free hand sliding across her breasts, feeling the warmth of her skin, the curve of her waist. “You’re a bad girl,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. “Letting me touch you like this. Letting me want you like this. You’re playing with fire, you know that?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice shaking but defiant. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me back to her mouth, and I let her. God, the way she kisses—like she’s been holding back, like she’s finally letting herself go.

My hand slides higher, cupping her breast through her dress, and she arches into me with a soft moan. “Yeah, you like that,” I murmur, my thumb brushing over the peak, feeling it harden as I pinch hard. “You like being my bad girl.”

Her nails dig into my shoulder, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “This is so wrong,” she whispers, her eyes dark, pupils blown wide.

“You fucking temptress, then why does it feel this good?” I shoot back, my lips trailing down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below her ear. “You don't want me to stop, do you?

She doesn’t. Instead, her hands slide down to my belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle, and I swear under my breath. “Oh fuck,” I groan, my hips pressing into hers, the friction making my head swim.

“Don’t stop,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against my jaw as she finally gets the belt loose, her hand sliding down to where I’m already hard for her.

I catch her wrist, pinning it above her head against the door, my other hand gripping her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You’re mine,” I growl, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “Even if it’s just for tonight, you’re mine.”

She doesn’t argue. Instead, she leans up, capturing my lips in another searing kiss, and I know I’m done for. This woman—this gorgeous, infuriating, intoxicating woman—I can’t believe that Corey saw her first.

My hands slide up her thighs, the fabric of her dress bunching around her hips. I slip a finger, then two, around the edge of her panties, stroking her sopping wet heat. She’s clean-shaven, smooth, and I groan as my fingers brush against her. “Fuck me,” I mutter, my voice a low growl. “You’re perfect.”

She gasps sharply, her hand still gripping me through my pants, her touch driving me wild. But I’m not ready to let her take control. Not yet. I want to see her fall apart first. My fingers tease her, tracing the edges of her warmth, feeling her shiver and buck when I touch her. “You like that?” I ask, my lips brushing her ear. “You like me touching you like this?”

She nods, her eyes fluttering shut, her hips pressing into my hand. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice rough with need. "More…"

“Good,” I growl, my fingers slipping inside her, fast and hard. She gasps, her teeth digging into my shoulder, her body arching into mine. I can feel her clenching around me, her breath hard and raspy. “That’s it, baby,” I murmur, my lips trailing down her neck. “Let it all go for me.”

Her hips buck wildly against my hand, her body trembling as she comes, her muffled scream swallowed by my kiss. “Quiet,” I whisper against her lips, my fingers still moving inside her. “You don’t want them to hear what a dirty girl you are, do you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes wide, her body still shaking with the aftershocks. “No,” she breathes, her voice barely audible.

“Good girl,” I murmur, my fingers slowing but not stopping, drawing out her pleasure as she comes again, her body writhing against mine. I can’t help but smile, watching her melt under my touch. “You’re so fucking hot like this,” I whisper, my lips brushing her ear. “ So juicy, so ripe. I could do this all night.”

Her hands slide up to grip my neck, her body still trembling as she comes again, her head thrashing back and forth against the door. “Donovan,” she whispers, her voice a choked whisper.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I murmur, my fingers still moving inside her, thrusting, drawing out every last bit of her pleasure. “I’ve got you.”

I pull my fingers from her wet heat slowly, watching her shiver as I do. Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips parted, and she looks like she’s still trying to catch her breath. I bring my fingers to my mouth, tasting her, and I can’t help the low growl that escapes me. “Fuck, Abbie,” I mutter, my voice rough. “You’re delicious.”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, but I don’t miss the way her lips curve into a small, satisfied smile. “You’re… ,” she whispers.

“I know,” I say with a smirk, leaning in to brush my lips against her ear. “But you’re going to have to compose yourself, sweetheart. We can’t have everyone downstairs wondering what we’ve been up to, can we? Take a minute and get cleaned up.”

She nods, her hands smoothing down her dress, her fingers trembling slightly. I step back, giving her space, and adjust my own clothes, making sure I look presentable. I don’t need is Corey or Seth catching on to what just happened. Not yet, anyway.

The sudden ping of the doorbell echoes through the house. I freeze for a second, then glance back at Abbie. “That’ll be the other guests,” I say, lowering my voice to a gruff whisper. “Be a good girl and clean up. I’ll head downstairs first. Don’t take too long.”

She nods again, her eyes avoiding mine. I can tell she’s still trying to process what just happened, and I can’t blame her. I’m not exactly known for playing by the rules, but with her, it’s different. Jesus, she's different.

I open the door and step out into the hallway, closing it softly behind me. I steady my breath, trying to calm the heat still coursing through me, and head downstairs. The sound of voices drifts up from the foyer, and I can hear Corey greeting someone—probably his son and the girl he’s been seeing. I slip back into my usual calm, collected demeanor as I make my way down the stairs.

“Donovan,” Corey says as I reach the bottom, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just using the bathroom,” I say with a shrug, my voice casual. “You know how it is.”

He gives me a look, but before he can say anything else, the door opens, and his son walks in, some girl on his arm. I don’t miss the way Corey’s jaw tightens, but he forces a smile, greeting them both. I watch the scene unfold, my mind still upstairs with Abbie.

I might have just ruined this entire evening, but I can’t bring myself to care.

33

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