Page 9 of Yes, Coach

"That's right." I pull back to look at her, and the trust in her eyes nearly brings me to my knees. "Say it again."

"Daddy." Stronger this time, more sure.

"Fuck, yes." I cup her face in both hands, my thumbs stroking her cheeks. "You're going to be so perfect for me, aren't you, baby girl?"

"I want to be."

"You will be." I lean down until our foreheads touch. "But first, I need to know you're sure. Once I kiss you, there's no pretending this is just a conversation between a coach and his student. Once I touch you, you're mine. Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?"

"Yes, Daddy." The words come out strong and clear, no hesitation.

"You're about to be kissed by a man. Not any man, either. Your fucking Daddy."

And then I'm kissing her.

It's nothing gentle or sweet. It's pure possession, all tongue and teeth and saliva and crushing lips. She melts into me immediately, her small hands fisting in my shirt, pulling mecloser. She tastes like mint and innocence and something that makes me want to devour her whole.

When I finally break away, we're both breathing hard.

"Stand up," I order, my voice rough, feeling more like myself than I have in as far back as I can remember.

She complies immediately, and I can see how much the submission soothes her tired soul. Her eyes are glazed, her lips swollen from my kiss, nipples pressing out on that white fabric, and I bet what I can’t see is that her panties are fucking soaked.

"Come here."

She takes a step forward, then another, until she's close enough to touch.

"Closer."

She moves until she's standing between my legs, her body heat radiating against me.

"Put your hands on my shoulders."

She does, her touch tentative but trusting.

"Good girl." I run my hands up her sides, feeling her shiver. "Now, I'm going to touch you, and you're going to stay very still for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"If you want me to stop, you say 'red.' If you want me to slow down, you say 'yellow.' If you're enjoying yourself, you don't say anything at all. Understand?"

She nods. "Yes, Daddy."

"Perfect."

I slide my hands around to her back, finding the zipper of her skirt. The sound it makes as I lower it seems impossibly loud in the quiet office.

"Step out of it."

She does, her cheeks flushed but her eyes never leaving mine. "You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?" I murmur, and she nods breathlessly. She trusts me completely, and that trust is the most intoxicating thing I've ever experienced.

"Beautiful." I let my gaze travel over her body, taking in the way her shirt hits mid-thigh, the smooth expanse of her legs. "My beautiful girl."

"Daddy..." Her voice is breathy, needy.

"What do you need, baby?"

"I need... I need you to touch me."

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