Page 48 of Daddy Knows Best

"Lavender," I said honestly. "Just . . . give me a second. It's a lot."

"All the time you need." He pressed kisses to my shoulder, my neck, murmuring praise between each one. "So proud of you. Taking it so well. My perfect girl."

The discomfort faded to awareness—full in a way I'd never experienced. When I shifted experimentally, the plug moved inside me, sending unexpected sparks of pleasure.

"Oh," I breathed. "Oh, that's—different."

"Good different?"

I rocked again, feeling how the fullness made everything more sensitive. "Yeah. Good different. Really good."

"Ready to move?"

I nodded, letting him help me onto my back. The position change made the plug shift, drawing a gasp that turned into a moan. Everything felt heightened, connected, like my whole body had become one nerve ending.

"The cane," he said, lifting it from its place. "Under your hips. Helps with angle."

The rattan pressed against my lower back as I arched, lifting my hips. The position opened me up, made me feel displayed and wanting. Nate stood at the foot of the bed, still fully clothed, just looking at me.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"You're perfect." His voice came out rough. "Spread out on your bed, marked from my cane, full of my plug. Do you have any idea what you look like?"

"Like yours?"

"Like mine," he confirmed, already pulling his sweater over his head.

I'd imagined him naked so many times, but reality exceeded fantasy. Swimmer's build had been accurate—lean muscle, defined without bulk. A trail of dark hair led down from his navel, disappearing into his chinos. His hands shook slightly on his belt, the only sign this affected him as much as me.

"Let me," I offered, sitting up despite the awkward angle.

But he stepped back. "If you touch me now, this'll be over before it starts."

"That sensitive?"

"Emily." He pushed his chinos and boxers down in one motion, and my mouth went dry. "I've been hard since you answered the door in those fucking socks. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

He was beautiful. Not just his cock—though that was impressive, thick and flushed and already leaking—but all of him. The vulnerability of standing naked while I studied him. The trust in letting me see his need.

"Still okay?" He positioned himself between my spread thighs, one hand braced by my head.

"More than okay." I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Please. Need you inside me."

He notched himself at my entrance, then paused. "I need to tell you something first."

My heart stuttered. "Now? Really?"

"Now." He pressed just the tip inside, enough to make us both gasp. "I'm falling in love with you. Have been since you drew that monster. Maybe before."

Tears sprang to my eyes. "Nate—"

"You don't have to say it back. Just needed you to know. Before this changes everything." He pushed in another inch, stretching me around him. "Needed it said with words, not just—fuck, you're tight."

"The plug," I panted. "Makes everything—oh god—"

He slid home in one smooth thrust, filling me completely. The fullness was overwhelming—him inside me, the plug pressing from behind, everything connected and pulsing. I could feel my heartbeat everywhere, and he must have felt it too because he went still.

"Breathe with me," he said against my neck. "Match me."

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