Page 12 of Her Daddy Biker
Tyra’s gripping the arm of the couch. “Havoc…”
“What, baby? You don’t want me to get to know you?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
She opens her mouth, closes it, clearly flustered. I love watching her scramble when I push her buttons.
“I don’t know,” she finally admits.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to know anything. Just gotta trust me.” I stand, and her eyes follow. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“Cause I want you to.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she uncurls from the couch and walks over to me. Good girl. She’s learning.
When she’s close enough to touch, I reach out and tuck a strand of damp hair behind her ear. She shivers at the contact.
“You smell good,” I murmur against the soft skin of her cheek. “Like me.”
“I borrowed your soap. I hope that’s okay.”
“More than okay, angel. I like you smelling like me.” My thumb traces along her jawline. “Means you’re mine.”
“I’m not…”
“Not what? Not mine?” I growl, stepping closer, close enough that she has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. “Angel, your body already knows.”
“My body doesn’t know what’s best for me.”
“Your body knows what it wants. What it needs. It’s your brain that’s the problem.” I slide my hand into her hair. “Too much thinking.”
“I can’t just turn off my brain.”
“Did it last night when you came all over my fingers.” Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t pull away. “Gonna teach you how to do it again. Right fucking now,” I rasp out, and crush my mouth to hers.
This kiss is nothing like last night’s exploratory one; this is pure claiming. I devour her mouth, my tongue sliding deep, tasting every inch as she whimpers under me. My teeth catch her plump bottom lip, biting just hard enough to make her gasp, then I soothe it with my tongue. She tastes like fresh mint and something uniquely her, and I can’t fucking get enough.
Tyra’s hands fist in my shirt; and she holds on tight while I fucking own her mouth. This sweet, soft, delicious little mouth is mine now, just like the rest of my angel.
When I finally break away, we’re both breathing hard, her lips swollen and slick.
“Been thinking about this all morning,” I tell her, backing her against the wall with my body. “About getting my hands on you again. About making you fall apart for me again.”
“Hav..…”
“Strip,” I command in a voice that’s rough with need. “Everything off. Now.”
Her eyes go wide, but her body’s already obeying. Such a goodfucking girl for her daddy. Tyra pulls her sweater over her head with shaking hands, and, fuck me, she’s not wearing a bra. Her gorgeous tits spill free, full and heavy, dark nipples already peaked and begging for my mouth.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathe out raggedly, reaching out to cup the fat globes. They fit perfectly in my big hands, warm and soft. “Look at these perfect fucking tits. Been thinking about sucking on your nipples since yesterday.”
I roll the hardened points between my fingers, tugging and pinching until she’s arching into my touch, little gasps escaping her delicious lips.
“You like that? You like Daddy playing with your tits angel?”
