“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered. “No underwear?”

I spread my legs a little wider, shameless. “Thought you’d like the surprise.”

His fingers found me—swollen, dripping. He groaned low in his throat, middle finger sliding through my folds, circling my clit once, twice. I gasped, hips jerking forward.

“You’re soaked,” he said, almost accusing. “Walking around your daddy’s backyard like this? Dripping for his best friend?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “Been dripping since I saw you.”

He pushed one thick finger inside me—no warning, just deep. I cried out softly, hand flying to my mouth. He curled it, hit that spot that made my knees buckle. Added a second finger, stretching me,...