Page 128 of Doughn't Let Me Go

Another grin, this time a little mischievous. “But I like it when you do.”

She crosses the room and surprises me by crawling into my lap, straddling me like a pro.

My hands fall to her ass, helping her keep her balance on my knees.

“Hi,” she murmurs again, her blue eyes darkening with lust.

“Dory…”

Her lips fall to my jawline and she peppers me with kiss after kiss, her soft touch ghosting over the beard I’m currently growing. She told me a week ago that she liked the feel of it between her legs, and I don’t think I’ll ever shave again after a comment like that.

She rocks against me, and I can already feel my cock growing. I’m starting to think talking to her in her room was a bad idea.

Her room means sex.

And as much as I want sex right now, I also just want to talk.

Her hips move again, and I groan at the friction against my dick.Is she always going to feel this good?I squeeze her ass in my palms, pulling her tighter against me.

I let my right hand dance along her body until it’s nestled right between her thighs. She lets out a small gasp when I trace the outline of the skimpy panties she’s wearing. When I skim my thumb over her clit, she arches into the touch, and I love how her breathing begins to change at such a simple touch.

So I do it again.

And again.

Just a tiny, quick sweep. Over and over until I know she’s starting to get frustrated.

There’s no real pressure behind the touch, no real hurry. She’s still pressing kisses against my jawline, her hips now rocking faster.

She wants more.Needsmore.

“Stop playing around and fuck me already,” she growls. “Please.”

God, I want to. But first…

“We need to talk,” I tell her, sliding my hand from between her thighs and moving it back around to her ass. It’s not necessarily safe from my assault either, but I won’t go there right now.

She pulls away. “Is this about earlier? With Kyrie? Her catching us in the laundry room?”

That was my other fuckup today—my inability to keep my hands off her.

When I saw her in the laundry room, I couldn’t hold myself back—and it wasn’t just because she was bent over and her ass was on full display.

I was just hit with this overwhelming feeling of rightness. She fits in our lives. She fits with us. I had to touch her.

Sure, my spur-of-the-moment decision caused me to out us to my daughter earlier than I ever planned to, but when Kyrie asked me what was going on, I couldn’t lie to her.

She took it just like I thought she would. She’s a seven-year-old without a mother—of course she’s not going to throw a fit when her father is caught kissing someone.

“No,” I tell Dory. “I don’t care about that.”

“You don’t?”

“Did Kyrie seem to care?”

She bites her lip, her eyes staring past me, thinking about my daughter’s reaction. “No, I guess not. But what does this mean now? Is she going to have…expectations?”

Instead of answering her, I tighten my grip and pull us both to a standing position.

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