8
Daniela
“Do you like Daddy?” Laura asks me a week later, and I freeze.
“Uh … what do you mean, sweetie?” Meanwhile I can feel my cheeks burning.
I can’t tell this little girl that I’ve fallen asleep in her daddy’s arms every night since moving in, f****d to exhaustion in more ways than I knew existed. I can’t tell her that under my high-necked blouse are a dozen purple suck-marks that he’s left on my body, or that I’m working up the nerve to use my mouth on his c**k.
I wouldn’t even tell her any of that if she was over eighteen. That would just be weird.
“He’s happy again with you here. He was always quiet before. And he’s around more, and that’s nice.” She gazes at me pleadingly. “So you have to stay, okay?”
I blink in surprise, and then smile at her reassuringly. “I’m not going
