He smiled again. “Say it.” “Daddy please…” she whispered, his hand finding her nipples again, this time his mouth on it, licking, nibblin..., sucking the small nib. She moaned, a light sound, and squeezed his cock. It throbbed painfully in her tiny hands, and she pulled on it just then, sending a fire through Harris. He groaned quietly and squeezed the flesh of her bottom, her thigh. She was so soft… her glowing caramel skin yeilding under his white hand. She was his creation, his daughter,. Her questions as to the cause of his ill temper were met with a harsh command to go to bed.Of course, Elizabeth knew the reason. The letter from Jeremiah Anson had forewarned her, and she could see that her father was still fuming over the things Anson must have said to him.On the next morning, Elizabeth noted with surprise that her aunt was ready for travel too, and insistent on accompanying her niece. She too was treated with the same air of seething anger that seemed to permeate her father's. More

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