Even that, even those wet little presses of his lips, have me panting. Just as his mouth hovers over my opening and I can feel his breath against my sensitive skin, someone comes into the barn.
All the tension leaves my body and I collapse onto the blanket-covered wood beneath me in desolation. If they take Daddy away from me again, I’m going to cry. I hear John talking with a couple of the ranch hands. I don’t recognize all the voices.
When I feel the rasp of a tongue circle my opening, I pull in a sharp breath. Daddy’s hands tighten on my thighs in warning, so I pull a corner of the blanket over to cover any noises that break free from my pressed lips.
“So sweet,” Daddy whispers.
I lift my hips to his mouth, begging for more. With slow deliberation, his flexed tongue presses inside m
