"You called me?" you asked, stepping into his office wearing nothing but your panties and a tank top.
"Yeah. What are you doing?" he replied, eyes heavy with exhaustion as he looked you over.
"Nothing, just trying to figure out what to cook," you said, walking toward him.
He stood up, and your mouth parted slightly. The all-black outfit clung to him in all the right places. He looked good every day, but when he wore all black—God—he looked sinful.
"You okay, doll?" he asked, catching the way you stared.
"Yes, sir," you answered shyly.
"Why so shy, baby?" he teased.
"You just look really good today, Daddy," you said with a bashful smile.
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "So I only look good today?"
You giggled softly. "No! You always look good, Daddy. But today it's different—it's the black. I don't know, it just does something to me."
He smirked. "So you like when I wear all black?"
You glanced down, heat creeping into your face.
"Come here," he growled.
You walked toward him, flustered, practically giggling. He pulled you gently by the waist, lifting you onto his desk and stepping between your legs.
"Look at me," he commanded.
You looked up at him with a smile. "What?"
"You do this on purpose, don't you?"
He chuckled, his hands sliding up your thighs slowly.
"You want me to fuck you while I'm wearing all black?"
You gasped. "Daddy! What is wrong with you?!"
"What?" He laughed hard, almost uncontrollably. "It's just a fucking question."
"I mean... you can," you mumbled, looking down, fingers nervously toying with the hem of your tank top.
"Nah, baby. I got shit to do."
"Then why would you ask me?" you pouted.
"I don't know," he smirked, amused by your reaction. He leaned in, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead. "Go on, let me finish going over these papers."
You turned toward the door, but hesitated. You bit your lip, trying to gather the courage to ask what you really wanted to say.
"...Are you going to do it tonight when you get home?"
He didn't even look up. "Do what, baby?" he asked, voice slightly irritated.
"Fuck me," you said, soft but firm.
That got his attention. He looked up with a wicked smile. "I might."
"Whatever," you muttered, turning and walking out with a pout.
His laughter followed you down the hallway.
"I might," you repeated under your breath with a roll of your eyes.
A wicked grin crept across your lips.
"Yeah... we'll see."
