Nancy's POV 

His hand reluctantly abandoned my breast, tracing a fiery path down my trembling stomach. Bypassing the bunched-up hem of my nightgown without a second of hesitation, his fingers dove straight for my slick, swollen folds. He parted them effortlessly—I was absolutely drenched—and a guttural groan rumbled in his chest at the wet, slippery heat of me.

"Fuck, Nancy, you're practically flooding my hand. This pretty pussy is starving, isn't it? Clenching at nothing, just begging for Daddy's fingers."

"Yes, Daddy," I whimpered into his skin.

My hips instinctively bucked upward, chasing his touch as he began to lazily circle my clit. He teased the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves...