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“Say that again,” he demanded roughly, and I wasn’t going to argue with him if it ultimately got me what I wanted.

“Please, Daddy.”

“Jesus Christ, I love how you beg for me, honey bun,” he growled, tickling my neck before he kissed the sensitive and suddenly overheated flesh. “Don’t think there isn’t anything about you I don’t fucking love.” He groaned, pressing himself even harder against the apex of my thighs.

“Oh— oh, wow.” My toes curled against the couch cushions. The mix of his lips and the scruff on his chest made me feel like I was just one huge clumped-up nerve. Alive and bright and too on edge to think straight. I licked over the pulse point of his neck and was rewarded with an almost angry thrust.

“Fuck,” he cursed as his hips rolled back and forth between my thighs. “You’re so damn warm,” he groaned before burying his head in my neck. “You wet for me?” The words weren’t anywhere close to filthily dirty, but they did more for me than anything I’d experienced before.

I’d had sex before.

Sex I thought was good, great even. I knew my body and how to get it off with my hands or an assortment of toys on my night table. I’d had my fair share of orgasms. Or at the very least, I’d thought I’d had. But making out with Dave? The way his body felt over mine, strong but not overwhelming or claustrophobic. Like he knew exactly how to hold off just enough of his weight and had more than enough control of it to accomplish it. The heat of his skin making mine sweat but in a really damn good way. Not to mention the way his lips explored my neck and dipped down to my collarbone felt leaps and bounds better than anything I’d experienced before.

The past no longer mattered.

Anyone who had come before him somehow vanished and his lips on my skin felt new. Like a first. My head fell back and pressed against a throw pillow

“Daddy,” I moaned. Calling him that slipped past my lips easily.

“Taste so sweet, just like I knew you would.”

“I’m not sweet,” I tried to argue through a breathy whimper, because who was I kidding? I was a brat through and through.

“The hell you’re not,” he growled and flipped us over. I shrieked with laughter just as my hand rested against the center of his chest as I stared down at him.

“You’re sweet for me, Roxie,” he grunted before sitting up. The shift made it impossible to even try and ignore the long, thick hardness pressed between us. “Even your smart mouthy bratty side is sweet for me.”

His words melted something inside of me.

Like I wasn’t just a body he yearned for but more.

Like he could see through me to the very center of who I was and still wanted me. I reached for his face, trying to pull him from my face, and what I saw reflected in his gaze left me almost speechless. He wanted me. Not despite the things others saw as flaws but because of them.

It was almost like he loved the parts of me people pointed out as defects the most.

“You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.” I shocked myself with how steady my voice sounded as my heart started to gallop so hard against my rib cage it was almost painful.

“Honey bun, if I told you exactly how I felt and everything in my head right now, it wouldn’t be very daddy like, and you sure as shit wouldn’t be okay sitting on my lap like a bratty girl about to get spanked.”

“Spanked?” My sex convulsed, and he made a deep, guttural, almost animal-like sound as his forehead pressed against mine. Can he feel me? How wet and slick I was already without him laying a finger on me? How badly I wanted him? No, how badly I needed him.

“My girl likes the idea of that.” His hand slid down to my ass and he squeezed. My eyes shut tight because it felt too damn good. “Color?” he rasped.

“Green,” I answered immediately, and he nodded.

“Good girl.” Why did his praise go straight to my head? “Such a good girl for me.” He stood, and I gasped, wrapping my legs around his narrow waist.

“Dave?”

“Bed. We need a fucking bed.” The impatient tone in his voice made me giggle before I started to kiss his neck.

“I want you, Daddy,” I whispered and felt his hard length poke my thigh.

“Fuck, Roxie.” His hands tightened their grip. “Behave.”

“You could fuck me right against the nearest flat surface,” I suggested. “You don’t have to take me to bed.”

“For our first time, I do.” He groaned. I pulled back to look at him. He was serious. Lust and need shone in his dark eyes, but something bigger, too.