The drive home from the restaurant was pure torture.
I sat in the passenger seat, legs trembling, the thick vibrating plug still buried deep in my ass. My p***y was soaked, aching, and empty. The black cocktail dress clung to my damp skin. Every bump in the road sent jolts of pleasure through me, forcing me to bite my lip to stay quiet.
Daddy drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting possessively on my thigh, occasionally tugging lightly on the collar around my neck. Every touch reminded me who I belonged to.
When we finally pulled into the garage, he turned off the engine and looked at me with those dark, hungry eyes.
“Living room. Clothes off. On your hands and knees on the couch. Now.”
His voice was calm, but the command sent a rush of nervous excitement and fear through
