Finnegan
The shower wasn't enough. Not even close.
I had her pinned against the tiled wall, water cascading over our bodies as I drank from her lips, my pants soaked through from the spray.
I shouldn't be here.
My daughter was several doors down, and honestly, I had tried going to bed without setting foot in her room.
It clearly hadn't worked. Abigail moaned when my hands slipped between us, toying with her pussy as we kissed. I needed to see her.
I shut off the water and carried her straight into the bedroom, where a massive mirror on the vanity reflected every inch of her.
I set her down in front of it, standing behind her. She was completely naked except for the delicate gold waist chain I'd bought her in Santorini.
The thin links gleamed against her damp skin, water still trailing down her full breasts, over her lovely little stomach, and between her thighs.
