Mafia Daddy

“Come on, Daddy,” I said, sitting in a bath already filled to the brim with bubbles and drizzling more into the tub by the second.

“You know that I don’t take bubble baths, sweetheart,” he said, leaning against the sink counter with his arms crossed over his chest and his dark, devilish eyes focused on me. He had on a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his tattooed forearms and gray suit pants that fit him a bit too perfect, especially around the crouch.

I placed the bottle of bubbles down beside me and sank into the tub, pulling and pushing the bubbles away with my hands. “Please,” I pleaded, gently biting down on my lower lip and giving him the eyes I knew he couldn’t resist.

He drew his tongue across his top teeth, staring me down like a hungry predator, and tugged on his tie. “If you keep splashing around like that, I might think about it.” His gaze dropped to my tits covered in bubbles.

Heat gathered in my core at the mere sight of that man. It was the first night he