Sy laughs, another favorite sound of mine, and I finally wrap my large hand around his already weeping cock.
“Fuck, yes,” he hisses, undulating against me as I hammer into him.
I tip us over, still connected, needing more leverage. Using our combined bodyweight against my grip on his cock, I still my hand and let my thrusts work him over.
“Who are you?” I whisper aggressively in Silas’s ear.
“Yours.”
My breath catches. I was looking for him to answer withsomething saucier. Something along the lines of “your cum dump.” But his answer is so much better. More accurate too.
“Mine,” I whisper against his neck, that one word enough to push me over the edge.
I speed up, forcing his orgasm, spilling into him, loving how messy we are.
And maybe, probably, lovinghim.
That thought causes another catch in my throat. It’s been creeping in around the edges over the last several days. This has never been just some sort of weird fuck-buddy situationship. It’s always been more. And as much as I enjoyed my previous slutty little lifestyle, this thing we’ve been doing? This iseverything.
As I begin to wrap my head around where this is all going, Cupcake, nearly invisible in the dark shadows of the room, growls. Seconds later, there’s banging at the front door.
“Oakley!” shouts a distressed voice. “Oakley, are you here?”
Oh…fuck. I pull out of Sy too fast, and he hisses in pain.
“Sorry, baby. That’s my dad.”
Silas stiffens, then grabs his phone and pulls up the door camera app.
“Ro, don’t jump to conclusions,” my father says as he presses his palm to the reader on Silas’s door.
“A little hard to jump to conclusions when the transcript is right fucking there,” Dad says, pushing his way in.
Cupcake attacks the bedroom door, barking and snapping like she’s about to go through it.
“The fuck?” Silas growls.
Footsteps sound from the living room and Cupcake loses her mind.
“Cupcake,drop,” he compels, his voice dark as murder. I don’t need to look to know his eyes are black.
Matte black.
Killer black.
With a whimper, Cupcake obeys the override command, going to the floor.
My brain is still stuck on Dad’s words.
The transcript?
As Sy would say…double fuck.
Shit. Shit. Shit.This is my fault. I forgot about the goddamned transcripts. Even the private communications on an op are recorded. I know this, and I one hundred percent forgot.
Or maybe I just forgot that since that was my first op to debrief, my dads would, of course, be paying attention.
“They’re coming in, one way or another,” I warn Silas.
