"That's right. You're mine. My good little girl who takes my cock so well." She's trembling now, her whole body taut with need. I can feel how close she is, how desperately she's trying to hold back until I give her permission.
"Please," she whimpers. "Please, Daddy, I need it so bad."
"Come for me, baby," I order. "Come on your daddy’s cock like a good fucking girl."
She shatters. Her whole body convulses and she screams into the pillow, her muscles clenching around me so tight it's almost painful. The sensation pushes me over the edge and I follow her, thrusting deep and holding there as I come harder than I have in months.
"Devon," I groan. "Fuck, Devon—" I'm still cumming when the lights turn on.
The sudden brightness is blinding. I freeze, still buried inside Devon, my brain struggling to process what's happening. For a second, I think maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe the orgasm was so intense I'm seeing things. But then I hear it. Slow, deliberate clapping.
I turn my head, and my blood turns to ice. Julie is standing in the doorway. Jamie is next to her. And Ryan is behind them both, his face a mask of cold fury. Jamie has her phone out, pointed directly at us. Recording.
"Well," Julie says, her voice perfectly calm, perfectly controlled. "I honestly didn't know you had that in you."
I try to move, to pull out of Devon, to grab something to cover us, but my body won't respond. I'm frozen, still half-hard inside her, my mind screaming at me to do something, say something, fix this.
"Though asking her to call you daddy is a little sick, don't you think?" Julie continues, and her tone is so casual, so conversational, that it's somehow worse than if she were screaming.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s going to be no reasoning with her. People are going to find out about this. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck do I do now?
"Julie—" I finally manage to speak, my voice cracking. "This isn't?—"
"Isn't what?" She tilts her head, and there's something in her eyes I've never seen before. Not hurt. Not anger. It’s like there’s an iceberg inside of her. "Isn't what it looks like? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're balls-deep in your stepsister, calling her a good little girl, while she calls you daddy, you sick fuck."
Devon scrambles off me, grabbing for the sheet. I do the same, my hands shaking as I try to cover myself. My mind is racing, trying to find an explanation, an excuse, anything that will fix this.
"I also think," Julie says slowly, "I can see her juices and your cum on your disgusting dick, and I can see you leaking out of her. So you didn't bother with protection, which means I dodged a bullet. You have no idea how happy I am right now that you haven't been able to get it up for me in eons. This cum dumpster could have a disease, you fucking idiot."
The harsh, whip-like tone she’s using and the things she’s saying make me want to vomit. This isn’t Julie. Nothing in herfile, nothing in our history, nothing I’ve ever seen from her warned me she could turn like this. She’s angry in a way that terrifies me.
I open my mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg, but nothing comes out. I lunge toward her, still holding the sheet around my waist. "Julie, please, just let me explain?—"
One second I'm reaching for my wife, and the next, Ryan's fist connects with my jaw. The impact sends me sprawling backward. I hit the floor hard, the sheet tangling around my legs. Pain explodes through my face and I taste blood.
"Don't you even think about fucking touch her," Ryan says, his voice deadly quiet. “If you try again, I will fucking end you.”
I'm on the floor, naked, bleeding, and I look up to see Julie standing over me. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her wedding and engagement rings. The rings that cost more than most people's homes. She tosses them at me. They hit my chest and bounce off, landing on the floor next to me with two small, metallic sounds.
"These gaudy pieces of shit are yours. Take them and get out," she says.
"Julie, please?—"
"No thank you. I have no interest in your excuses. Only in your absence." Her voice is dead calm. "Take your whore and get the fuck out of my house. You have ten minutes to get dressed and leave, or I'm calling the police and having you both arrested for trespassing and I'll call the press so that they're here to record it all."
“It isn’t just your house,” I point out. I'm still trying to process what's happening, my jaw throbbing. “It’s my house too."
She laughs and shakes her head. "Nope," Julie says. "It'smyhouse. Turns out when your father filed the paperwork andgifted it to us, the deed only had my name on it. I had no idea until my private investigator told me earlier tonight.”
The words hit me like another punch. I'd never looked at the deed. Never thought to. My father had presented it as a gift to both of us, and I'd just assumed. "You can't?—"
"I can. And I am." She crosses her arms. "You have nine minutes now."
On the bed, Devon finally finds her voice. She's wrapped the sheet around herself, and she's looking at Julie with something like defiance. "I'm sorry you had to find out about us like this," Devon says, and there's a smugness in her tone that makes me want to scream at her to shut up because making this worse isnotthe fucking move. "But Asher and Iloveeach other. We have for a while now. You were just in the way.”
Julie's expression doesn't change. She just stares Devon down, calmly, as she walks over to the bed. And then she grabs her by the hair and yanks her off the bed. Devon screams as she hits the floor, the sheet falling away. She's completely naked, scrambling backward, and Julie is standing over her with the same cold expression.
"You can go ahead and tell yourself that the stepbrother who tells you to call him daddy while he fucks you in his marital bed is the love of your life. I honestly don't care what you think or do. I only care that you get your disrespectful ass out of my fucking house." Julie says.
