The second “Daddy” slipped from my lips, the air in the tent grew thick and electric.

 His dark eyes lit with raw hunger. That slow, predatory smile curved deeper as he moved in, one hand sliding around the back of my neck, thumb brushing my jaw like he already owned me.

 “Good girl,” he murmured, voice low and rough, velvet over gravel. “Knew you’d make the right choice.”

 He turned me smoothly, pressing my back to his chest. His free hand trailed down my body, cupping my breast through the thin dress before sliding lower. When his fingers finally brushed my bare, soaked pussy, my knees buckled. I was dripping,...