Camila didn't stop even amongst the whispers coming from Nina and Abigaille from the side, her voice growing breathier as Kafka's hands roamed her chest, his fingers teasing her nipples now, pinching and rolling them with expert precision.
She moaned, leaning into his touch as she rambled on. "And this—oh, fuck, Daddy, the way you're playing with my nipples right now, leaving your mark all over me—I'd dream about this too!"
"You biting me, sucking me till I was covered in little bruises, proof you'd been there. I think...I think that's why they got so big, you know? These breasts—they grew for you!"
"All that love I had bottled up, all that need to make you notice me more than anyone else. I'd catch myself in the mirror sometimes, cupping them, thinking, 'If they were bigger, maybe Daddy'd look at me instead of...."
Her gaze flicked sideways then, landing on Abigaille with a sudden, pointed intensity that made her freeze.
"...Instead of her."
