Sanctuary in Her Fathers Arms Pt. 02

The Closet

Kendra awoke gradually, floating gently upward from sleep, cradled securely against her father's chest. It reminded her so much of how he used to hold her when she was a little girl, long before they ever became husband and wife. She became aware first of warmth--the soothing heat radiating from his skin, the rhythmic, comforting beat of his heart beneath her ear. Candlelight flickered gently around the room, soft amber glow casting warm shadows over their intertwined forms. Her father's fingers traced slow, tender patterns along her spine, each stroke a silent promise of devotion. He watched her with a quiet reverence, breath catching softly in his throat at the way her eyelashes fluttered, her lips parting in a dreamy sigh.

"Wake up, babygirl," he whispered, voice a velvet caress, lips brushing lightly over her forehead, then her temple, coaxing her gently from her dreams. Kendra stirred, stretching slowly, luxuriously against him, arching softly into his touch. Her eyes opened slowly, heavy with sleep and contentment, immediately finding his. The soft smile she gave him made his heart swell painfully with love and a fierce, protective tenderness. "Hi, Dad," she murmured softly, her voice thick and sweet as honey, her gaze trusting, open, utterly his.

Her Daddy kissed her softly, slowly, pouring all his love, gratitude, and quiet, relentless hunger for her into the meeting of their lips. His hand cupped her jaw gently, thumb stroking softly across her cheekbone. When the kiss finally broke, he helped her sit up carefully, guiding her with an attentive, gentle strength. Her body felt deliciously languid, muscles warm and loose from the earlier lovemaking. Hand in hand, they walked slowly to down the hallway to the bedroom and then into the special closet Daddy had built for her that housed Kendra's treasured collection of lingerie, each piece curated just for her; an expression of daddy's deep admiration for her beauty.

As Daddy opened the door to reveal the carefully organized collection of delicate garments, Kendra stepped inside, looking at the different sections for the closet. Treating Kendra like a princess was almost like a religion to her father,, and he took every aspect of her life, including selecting what she wore, especially intimate garments, as seriously as a surgeon takes washing his hands before operating. He designed the closet such that there was to be no lingerie simply shoved in drawers. He viewed them each as a work of art, just like his daughter, and they deserved to be displayed so they could be appreciated, just like his Princess.

The closet was divided into three sections, each one serving a different purpose. Once section was full of babydolls and silk and lace. Daddy would have his little girl wear these items when he felt like she needed to be made to feel Beautiful. Treasured. Admired. There was a section of more comfortable clothes. Matching bra and panty sets, sports bras, sweat pants. Clothing that allowed her to be comfortable and get things done around the house while still allowing her to easily fulfill her role as her father's freeuse wife by providing easy access to her body. And the last section... the sexiest section was reserved for when Daddy wanted to make her his little whore.

He let her walk in first, though he didn't stay behind for long. The glow of the closet lit her skin with something holy, something that made him pause in the doorway and breathe her in. She was still naked, her body bearing the softness of sleep and the marks of their earlier lovemaking. She moved confidently between rows of silk and lace, humming softly as her fingers skimmed the hangers, looking for something white and delicate and comfortable. Behind her, he couldn't stop staring. Technically, it was his job to pick an outfit out for his little girl, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. Every curve, every line, the tilt of her hip, the slow drag of her hair down her back--it lit him up all over again. His hand found her waist as naturally as a breath. "You're not making this easy," she said, teasing, a glimmer in her eye as she looked back at him. "I'm trying to get dressed, and your hands are already misbehaving." His palm slid down, lingering just enough to make her breath hitch. "That's not misbehaving," he murmured, voice low. "That's worship."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. There was nothing in her that didn't crave his hands on her, even when she playfully pushed back, those brat instincts in her going against her own best interests sometimes. She pulled a piece from the rack--a soft, white bralette edged in lace, paired with matching high-cut panties that hugged the hips just right--and held it up for his inspection. "This one?" she asked. He didn't answer with words. Instead, he stepped in closer, his hands gliding up her ribcage as he bent to kiss her shoulder. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice almost reverent. She turned to face him fully, fabric still in hand, and he let his palms trace down her sides, slow and deliberate. The way he looked at her made her feel like the only woman on earth. As she stepped into the panties, he knelt instinctively to guide them up her legs--his lips brushing her thigh along the way, not because he had to, but because he couldn't not. He inhaled the smell of her sex deeply before pulling the waistband over her hips.

When she straightened, the bralette dangling from her fingers, his hands were already at her back, guiding her arms gently into the straps. She let him dress her like a priceless doll, and he treated her like one--fingertips lingering at every clasp, every inch of skin he covered with soft lace. Once it was on, she smoothed it over her chest and looked up at him with that grin--the one that told him she knew exactly how gorgeous she was, especially in something he had chosen. "You like?" she teased, arching a brow. He didn't answer right away. He just looked at her, jaw slightly tense, eyes heavy with that slow, simmering need he never tried to hide. "You know I do," he said finally, voice low and sure. "You could bring me to my knees in a burlap sack, babygirl. But in this?" He leaned in, brushing his lips just below her ear. "You're devastating."

Primal impulses took him over and he reached up and wrapped his long fingers around her neck with one hand, his dark brown eyes blazing with need. She was precious treasure to him, and he knew how to handle her without hurting her, or at least how to only hurt her in ways she liked. He outstretched his arm, pinning her to the wall of the closet. "You're so fucking perfect. I need to be inside you again, little girl. Right now." To emphasize his need, he grabbed her hand and placed it on the bulge of his boxers. She could feel his engorged cock in her hand, pulsing for her. Knowing the way he craved her made her pussy flood, and she could feel her heartbeat in her clit. Kendra always wondered how he could get so hard for her so quickly after just cumming inside her.

But Kendra had another primal need. "Daddy, you promised me dinner." In an instant, daddy's entire demeanor changed. Did he need to be buried deep inside her? Yes, absolutely, but nothing was ever more important to him than taking care of his angel. His eyes softened from a moment earlier and a playful expression began to dance across his face.

"You're absolutely right, sweetheart. I did promise dinner, didn't I?" The hand not around her neck journeyed to the area between her legs and grabbed the fabric of her panties and pushed them to one side. "But first, an appetizer." He took two fingers and buried them inside her pussy, pushing into her deeply, firmly, lovingly, fucking her slowly with his fingers, driving her body firmly against the wall. He could feel how warm and wet her pussy was, hot with need from being fucked just a little while ago. He could feel her wetness and his cum drenching his fingers and his hand.

He pulled his hand back out, and instantly she felt a jolt of emptiness radiate from deep inside her always needy cunt. Even if she was hungry, she needed to be full. To be full of him. Now. Always. She watched as he brought his fingers up to her mouth. "Open." he said, some of the playfulness from earlier gone as her scent filled her nostrils, stoking his primal instincts he was working so hard to keep at bay just for her.

Kendra obeyed, and opened her mouth to accept the appetizer he was gifting her. She closed her lips delicately around her father's fingers and began to suck their combined juices off his thick fingers as he gently fucked mouth. Her daddy's cock throbbed at the sight of his little girl being so good for him, clearly enjoying the job she was given. His cock was jealous of her fingers and his hand squeezed her neck a little tighter. It was maddening. "You're so fucking Beautiful" he said, before realizing he couldn't take it any longer and pulled his fingers out to free her mouth and kiss her.

He didn't just kiss her. He tried to devour her. He wanted her tongue. He wanted her taste. He wanted the taste of her sex and his cum dancing on their tongues. His whole body pushed into hers as he spent minutes exploring her mouth with his tongue and her body with his hands, trying to touch her very soul. He knew if he didn't stop now, he would lose total control, so in one motion he removed both his mouth and his hands from her body and took the biggest step back the closet would allow. He stared deeply into her eyes, breathing like a wild animal.

Kendra decided to help him out of his delima with self control and break the tension. "Dinner?" she asked playfully and hopefully, making a cutesy gesture as she spoke. She watched as his body settled and his breathing returned to normal. She smiled, and began to exit the closet. She laughed softly, the sound low and rich, and trailed her fingers down his chest as she passed by him, swaying just enough to let him know she felt every ounce of his gaze. "Come on, Daddy," she said over her shoulder, her voice laced with sugar and spark. "You can't cook me dinner in the closet."

A Spill in the Floor

He followed her into the kitchen with a small shake of his head and a smile that curled at the corner--half adoration, half hunger. In the kitchen, the mood shifted from reverent to comfortably domestic, without ever losing the undercurrent of heat. The soft strum of Matchbox 20 spilled from the speakers, blending with the gentle clatter of dishes and the warmth of home. He moved around the space with practiced ease, and she leaned against the counter, watching him, wearing almost nothing, looking like everything.

She offered to help, of course, but he waved her off with a smile and a soft, "I've got you, babygirl." Still, she lingered close, brushing her arm against his every time she passed by to grab a glass or sneak a bite of whatever he was prepping. Her commentary was constant--playful, sharp, and wicked in the way only she could pull off. "You sure you're not just keeping me out of the way so you can stare at my ass while you stir potatoes?" she asked, licking mashed potato from her fingertip with mock innocence. He didn't deny it. Didn't need to. The look he gave her in return said everything: Yes. Always. Their laughter mingled with the music, with the scent of butter and rosemary, with the way her presence filled the room so completely, it felt like the walls might give way to hold it all.

There was a pause in the rhythm of the kitchen--the kind that comes when something starts to simmer, not just on the stove, but between two people tethered by want. She had her back to him, reaching into the cupboard for plates, completely unaware of how still he'd gone behind her. The music carried on, but he wasn't hearing it anymore. All he saw was the soft slope of his daughter's back, the gentle rise of her hips under the lace, the way her body called to him like gravity. He stepped up behind her, slow and deliberate, his chest brushing her spine as his arms wrapped around her: one across her waist, grounding her; the other curling gently but firmly around her neck, thumb resting just under her jaw. It had only been thirty minutes or so, but she was amazed how much she missed his hand around her neck and how good it felt to have it back. She froze--not in fear, never in fear--but in that sacred stillness of being held. Of being owned. Of submitting. Her breath caught. "Mine," he whispered into her hair, not asking, not checking. Just claiming.

Kendra exhaled softly, her whole body melting back into him like it had been waiting for this all evening. The shift in his energy--tender and commanding--made her chest tighten with something more than arousal. It was love. It was belonging. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Such a good girl for me. I'm going to spend my whole life making you feel how much I need you." One hand slid lower, fingers skimming the edge of her panties, dipping slowly beneath. She gasped, just barely, already slick and open for him, her thighs parting without thought. Deep in her subconscious she had been trained that a good girl always keeps her legs spread for her daddy. It was automatic.

His fingers moved with practiced patience, gently kneading her swollen button, watching her reactions and adjusting, coaxing more from her with every gentle stroke. She leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed, nearly unable to move her body as he had pinned against him. She reached up to pull the fabric down on her bra and allow her breasts to spring free into the kitchen. It made her feel sexier, sluttier, and she knew he would appreciate the view. He always did, and she was rewarded with a soft growl in her ear.

He murmured soft praise into her skin as his fingers moved, each word falling heavier than the last. "You were made for this, babygirl. I made you for me. For this kind of love." Her breathing quickened, hips rocking gently against his hand, chasing the rhythm he set. It wasn't hurried--it never was with him.

She felt his fingers slide into her pussy. She was so open for him he buried his fingers to the hilt without resistance. "Yes. Finally." she thought, so happy to not be empty anymore. Without thinking she let her body take over, moving her hips and fucking his fingers like a needy slut. She didn't care. She knew she was safe in her father's arms. She knew she was his whore and she loved it. Because he loved her. She always knew it.

Her daddy's cock throbbed as he watched her lose herself with his fingers buried inside her. The control she gave her over him was the most incredible gift he had ever received, and his most awesome responsibility. He wanted her to feel everything. The stretch of anticipation. The ache of being known that deeply. Her mouth parted around a soft cry as he made come hither motions against her front walls, her body tightening, coiling like a string drawn taut. He held her closer, fingers squeezed around her neck, allowing for air but cutting off blood to her head, grounding her with his weight, his warmth, his voice. She felt dizzy, owned, used, craved, but also so very safe.

Kendra was unraveling, her moans and hot breath filling the kitchen. The spring needed to be sprung, "Daddy, may I cum" she managed to get out as he continued to own her whole body with just two fingers. The answer she wanted didn't come, her father just continued to assault her cunt with his fingers. She had to be a good girl, Daddy knows when it will feel the best. She kept the wall up, not allowing her orgasm to take her over, but her vision was going dark. "Daddy has me. I'm safe" she thought, just as her father's loving voice spoke in her ear --low and commanding as he whispered, "Let go for me, FuckAngel. I want to feel you come apart in my hands."

"Oh, fuck!" Kendra cried out into the kitchen as her world shattered around her. Her insides clenched hard as the first wave of pleasure hit her like a freight train, and daddy felt her pussy convulse around her fingers and he honestly thought she might be able to break them she came so hard. The second wave hit her, another scream filling the kitchen as her pussy assaulted daddy's fingers with a death grip that shocked him. He registered a splashing sound beneath them. A third wave or orgasm surged through Kendra's body and as it did she became aware that she was squirting all over her daddy's hands, her legs, the floor, and the lower cabinet door in front of her. Kendra could hear Daddy growl "That's my good girl." so pleased with the mess she was making of the kitchen, but secretly jealous that so much of her was lost to the floor and not in his mouth.

He never stopped holding her. Didn't stop whispering. He controlled her body like a musician controlling a finely handcrafted instrument. Touching the instrument just to make it sing however he wanted. He drove her orgasm for a long time, knowing how to coax her body to its limit, knowing her body better than she ever could have herself. Wave after wave overtook her, and if it wasn't for her Daddy's strong arms holding her against his body she would have fell to the floor long ago. He continued to talk her through her orgasm as he gently brought her down, kissing the side of her neck, proud and steady, while she came down in the safety of his arms.

As Kendra's breathing slowly steadied, she managed to breathlessly whisper "Thank you, Dad." knowing she would get her ass spanked shortly if she did not. He gently withdrew his hand from her wet hole, now slick with evidence of her pleasure, turned her body to face him, and brought his fingers to his lips with a reverent smile. Her eyes widened as she watched him, her cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic heat.

But daddy had other intentions than tasting alone. Locking eyes with Kendra, he offered his glistening fingers to her, the gesture both tender and possessive. Her pulse quickened anew at the unabashed desire on his face. Obediently--no, eagerly--Kendra parted her lips and took his fingers into her mouth, her tongue swirling around them to taste herself as he so clearly wanted. No matter how many times they perform this ritual, the eroticism of the act always sends a fresh blush over her skin; she closed her eyes, emitting a soft moan as she savored the mix of salt and sweetness on his hand. Her daddy's breath hissed through his teeth at the sight of her, the last vestiges of his restraint fraying at how beautiful she looked, lips wrapped around his fingers.

"Yes, babygirl" daddy whispered lowly as he realized he could wait no longer. He withdrew his fingers from her mouth only to replace them with his lips, capturing her in a searing kiss. They both tasted her essence on each other's tongues, a shared flavor that seemed to bind them even closer, forever. Her father then kissed her deeply, hungrily, one hand tangled in her hair while the other gripped her waist possessively. Kendra moaned into his mouth, her arms winding around his neck as she gave herself over to the fiery, intimate kiss. Her body was still pulsing with afterglow, yet already his insistent mouth was stoking a new flame within her.

When they finally parted, both were breathing hard, foreheads resting together as they tried to gather a shred of composure. Her father's eyes, dark with need and shining with adoration, roamed over Kendra's face--taking in her swollen lips, her flushed cheeks, the way her lashes trembled against her skin as she caught her breath. He cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "My daughter.... so Beautiful," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. Kendra opened her eyes and met his gaze; the love she saw there made her heart swell. She barely had time to respond before daddy's expression shifted, a gentle command forming on his lips.

Dominant Father

Her Daddy could feel the pendulum inside his heart and mind swing. It swung from loving to... still loving, but also domineering. He had needs too, and he knew he made her to meet them. "On your knees, My Beloved Daughter" he murmured softly, his tone gentle but edged in raw desire. "Show me how much you love me." His words flowed over her like warm honey, and Kendra felt a renewed surge of arousal pulse through her at the request. There was no hesitation in her; with a final kiss to his palm, she slowly sank to her knees on the kitchen floor before him. Her eyes never left her father's as she moved, and in them he read utter devotion and a hunger to please that made his blood burn for her.. The very air between them felt electric as she knelt in worshipful poise, ready to give as selflessly as he had given to her.

Her father's chest tightened at the sight of Kendra looking up at him from under her dark lashes, her lips parted and breath warm against his lower belly. The kitchen's soft light haloed her hair and cast shadows that accentuated the graceful slope of her shoulders, the reverence in her posture. He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip, swollen from their kisses, and she turned her face to press a kiss into his palm, sending a jolt of longing straight through him. Gently, she reached for the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down over his hips.

Kendra's hands trembled slightly--not with fear, but with eagerness--as she freed him from the last barriers of cloth. His arousal sprang free, hard and heavy with the proof of how much he wanted her. She let out a soft, delighted sigh at the sight of him, running her hands along his strong thighs as she leaned in to nuzzle a tender kiss just above his hip bone. Daddy sucked in a breath, muscles taut as bowstrings, every nerve focused on the brush of her lips and the promise of what was to come. He tangled his fingers gently in her hair, not to force but to hold--an unspoken show of connection and encouragement.

For a heartbeat, Kendra savored the weight of him against her cheek, nuzzling like a contented cat. Daddy never imagined anyone could love him so much, and she looked so beautiful worshipping his cock. She placed feather-light kisses along his length, teasing him with the barest graze of tongue between each one. Each flicker of her tongue and press of her lips made her dad's thighs quiver and drew a ragged groan from above. His restraint was hanging by a thread; he watched her with jaw clenched and eyes smoldering, his free hand white-knuckled on the counter behind him as he fought the urge to simply take. But he wouldn't rush her. This was as much her gift as his indulgence, and the sheer erotic artistry of her slow worship had him mesmerized.

When Kendra finally took her father's cock into her mouth, both of them released shuddering breaths--his a deep groan of relief, hers a muffled moan of satisfaction. Heat and hardness filled her, stretching her lips, and she reveled in it, relaxing her throat to welcome him deeper. Daddy's head fell back, a guttural sound rumbling from his chest as wet warmth enveloped him. The sensation was almost too much after the prolonged tease; pleasure shot up his spine and his fingers flexed in her hair, reflexively tightening then loosening in apology. "God, Kendra," he gasped, voice wrecked and full of awe, each syllable a reverent benediction.

Encouraged, Kendra began a slow, deliberate rhythm, sliding her mouth along the length of his cock with exquisite care. Her tongue danced and curled, relearning every ridge and contour of him as if mapping the landscape of his desire. With each pass, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked gently, eliciting a chorus of broken moans from her father that only spurred her on. She loved how he unraveled for her--this strong, controlled man made weak at the knees, trembling because of her. It was empowering and humbling all at once. She gave herself over to the act completely, her own desire pooling hotly deep in her pussy, always ready for more, at the taste and feel of him.

Daddy looked down, and the sight that met him nearly undid any remaining composure. Kendra's eyes were closed in concentration, long lashes fanned against her blushing cheeks. A few strands of her hair clung to the dewy sheen at her temples. Her hands braced lovingly on his hips, holding him as she took him deeper into her mouth with every silky glide. She was a vision of devotion and sensuality, kneeling in utter surrender, and it struck him hard in the chest--an overwhelming wave of emotion. Love, fierce and profound, swelled within him, mingling with the intense pleasure she was giving. He brushed a thumb tenderly across her cheek, marveling at the way her skin heated under his touch, and she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "You're so fucking beautiful, little girl." he praised as she took the head of his cock deep into her throat.

The connection that flared between them made them both moan--Kendra around him, and Daddy above her, a harmony of shared pleasure. In that locked gaze, everything was laid bare: her adoration, his gratitude, the bliss they found in one another. Daddy's breaths were ragged now, each one laden with words he could not form. Instead, he let his body speak. His hips began to rock in time with her motions, a subtle thrust he tried to temper for fear of hurting her. But Kendra only dug her nails lightly into his skin in encouragement, pulling him closer, urging him silently to unleash the monster he keeps shuttered inside and use her, use HIS whore, HUS daughter, as he needed. She wanted this--all of him--wanted to feel him lose himself utterly, safe in the knowledge that she held his heart even as she held his body in her mouth.

A primal sound tore from daddy's throat as he gave in to the sweet temptation. His gentle grip in her hair tightened, guiding her as he began to move faster, each restrained thrust sending sparks of ecstasy through them both. Kendra relaxed even further, opening herself to him completely, taking him as deep as she could with tears of effort gathering at the corners of her eyes. Each time he filled her throat, she hummed around him--a desperate, blissful vibration that made him curse and praise her in equal measure. "So good... so perfect," he managed hoarsely, the words falling like embers into the heated air. She drank in his praise, her heart soaring, and answered with renewed fervor--sucking harder, swirling her tongue at the sensitive underside of his tip in a way that jolted his entire body. He looked down at her and thought how deeply he loved this incredible, lovely little girl, as he began fucking her hard and deep, just like he fucks her pussy when she begs him to use her. The sounds she made that told him taking him deep was a struggle only showed him how much she loved him and... he would die for his daughter gladly if he ever had to.

Daddy was tumbling toward the edge now, the tight coil of need in his belly winding unbearably fast. The world had narrowed to the slick, erotic glide of Kendra's mouth and the intense blue of her gaze locked on him, shining with love and the thrill of his surrender. His thighs tensed, every muscle drawing taut as a drawn bow as that tidal wave of pleasure gathered force. "Kendra--" he groaned a trembling warning, one hand gripping the counter as if to anchor himself to the earth. She answered by taking him even deeper, her fingers twining with his in a tender squeeze of reassurance. That was his undoing. With both hands he grabbed the back of her head and buried himself in her throat.

With a deep, shattered cry of her name, Daddy came undone. His release burst through him, hot and overwhelming, and he surrendered to it with a ferocity that stole his breath. Pleasure crashed over him in powerful surges; his vision blurred as he poured his hot cum, the cum that made her so many years ago. into the warmth of his daughter's perfect willing mouth. Kendra held him through it, swallowing around him, accepting everything he gave like a good daughter should. Tears spilled down her cheeks at the intensity of it all, and a muffled moan of her own escaped her as if she too felt a measure of his ecstasy. He emptied his love and longing into her mouth in that fervent moment, and she took it like a sacrament, eyes closed in euphoria, cherishing the gift of his vulnerability.

The waves of Daddy's climax ebbed slowly, leaving him shaking and utterly spent. His knees nearly buckled; he had to catch himself on the counter to keep from collapsing. Gently, Kendra released him, drawing back with a final, soft kiss to his sensitive tip that made him shiver. She gazed up at him, eyes shining, her lips wet and slightly swollen from her efforts. Tenderly, Daddy brushed his thumb across her lower lip, wiping a stray drop of his essence from the corner of her mouth. Kendra was a mess of saliva and sweat and the evidence of Daddy's orgasm, and as he looked down at her, he thought he had never seen anything more Beautiful. His chest swelled with love at the sight of her--so perfect, so utterly his, knelt in devotion and delight.

Wordlessly, he sank to his knees as well, so they were face to face, and gathered her into his arms.

They came together in a gentle, loving kiss--slow and deep, a merging of souls even more than bodies. Kendra remembered her rules and as their mouths came together daddy was met with the delivery of his own pleasure in her tongue. Together they worshipped each other, his essence between them. He tasted the remnants of her pleasure too, a heady mingling of each other that felt like the most intimate communion. "I love you," he whispered against her lips, voice raw with sincerity. Kendra's eyes brimmed with tears at the tenderness of his words, and she smiled as she cradled his face between her hands. "I love you, Dad," she murmured back, her voice soft and certain, glowing with happiness and contentment.

With utmost care, Daddy gathered her spent, half-clothed form into his arms and rose to his feet. Kendra let out a soft, breathy laugh of surprise, looping her arms around his neck. In the golden lamplight of their kitchen, he held her against his chest, her legs dangling against him for a moment before he set her down on the counter. He took a moment to tug his boxers back up over his hips and gently straightening and smoothing her disheveled hair--ever attentive, even in the aftermath of such raw passion. Kendra watched with a blissful, languid smile, warmth radiating through her at his every small act of care.

Daddy's thumb brushed over her cheek where a tear had left a shining trail. He wiped it away and then kissed the spot softly, reverently. Both of them were still catching their breath, their hearts gradually slowing from a gallop to a gentle canter. The room was filled with the scent of sex now mingling with the aroma of their forgotten dinner, and Kendra giggled quietly when her stomach gave a small, hungry growl. "Now," he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone, "about those potatoes." She laughed, soft and still a little breathless, her hands on her shoulders to steady herself as she hopped off the counter. "You really know how to work up an appetite, Daddy." With one last kiss--gentle this time, just a press of mouths and meaning--he turned her back toward the counter. Together, they moved through the quiet rhythm of finishing the meal, the room still thick with heat and laughter, the air between them humming with the kind of closeness that came only from being fully seen... and fully wanted.