“Damon,” I breathed out, and it sounded like a plea, but I didn’t even know what I was asking for anymore.
“Let Daddy suck them,” he whispered, his lips brushing my jaw as his hand slid back to the neckline of my dress. “Let me bite them. Let me worship them.”
“No,” I said, but it came out too soft. Too wet. Too broken to mean anything. “No. You can’t. Not after saying I was overreacting—this is my punishment for you.”
He chuckled low in his chest, and the sound vibrated against me.
“Are you sure about that, kitten?” he asked, and his fingers didn’t stop. “Because your body’s saying something else.”
His hand dipped lower, grazing the side of my breast now, thumb tracing just beneath the fabric like he was memorizing the way it fit around my n****e.
“You’re shaking,” he said, his voic
