Page 32 of Sin Wagon
“Fuuck!” she screams.
I groan, emptying inside of her as her pussy spasms around me, milking me for every drop I have.
She collapses onto my chest, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths mingling. I hold her close, pressing a kiss to herforehead, feeling her heart race against mine and the cool touch of her nipple piercings brushing against my skin.
“I’m going to taste you, Little Doe. Before we leave here, I will have my tongue deep inside that pretty little cunt.”
She opens her mouth to respond. I’m sure with something sassy, but she’s interrupted by a loud knocking on the door. We exchange glances and then she’s up, putting on a shirt and shorts and hurrying to the living room.
“Who is it?” she calls.
“It’s Rhonda, your gran—Jonas’ mom. I have Roy, my husband, and Jonas with me. Can we come in? We just want to talk.”
“Yeah, give me a second. I just woke up.” she calls back before whipping her gaze at me.
“Get in that room and don’t come out. We’ll deal with,” she motions her fingers back and forth between us, “this later when they leave. And for fuck’s sake, please listen this time.”
Chapter 16
DELILAH
I quickly head to the door, Wells’ cum still leaking from my pussy and the worry that we’ll be caught.
No way am I meeting my dad and grandparents for the first time, and they catch me with an older man in my room, let alone their son and brother.
Hesitantly, I turn the doorknob, my hand trembling, nervous about what’s on the other side. I force a smile on my face, hoping to mask my fear.
“Hi,” I say softly, taking in the trio waiting on the other side of the door.
Rhonda, with her charcoal-colored hair cascading down her shoulders and glasses perched on her nose, has a beaming smile that lights up her face as she stares at me. Her husband, Roy, stands there, his arm protectively wrapped around his son, a small smirk dancing on his lips. And Jonas, my father, he looks like hell.
His salt and pepper hair, which was perfectly slicked back last night, is now in disarray and his green eyes, which I can see now match mine, are weighed down with large bags.
“Good morning, Delilah. I hope it’s okay that we stopped by. If you’re open to it, we’d like to chat for a bit. Just get to know you better and see where we can go from here,” Rhonda says like the perfect delegate of the group.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Please, come in. Derek isn’t here right now. He’s down at the pool, so we have the place to ourselves.” I step back and allow them to come into the suite.
Rhonda and Jonas sit on the couch while Roy grabs a chair.
I stand awkwardly, contemplating if I want to sit or stand since the only open seat is the cushion next to Jonas. Am I ready to sit on the couch next to my dad? Something so small suddenly seems very intimate.
Nervously, I approach the couch and hesitantly sit down next to Jonas, my heart pounding in my chest. The room is quiet as we all take each other in. Their curious gazes fixate on me, and my eyes dance between the three of them as I nervously chew the inside of my cheek. I can’t believe this is how my life is playing out.
Rhonda, once again, takes the initiative and speaks up before anyone else.
“Just in case you missed it last night, or it slipped your mind, I’m Rhonda, this is my husband, Roy, and our son, Jonas. Despite the unfavorable circumstances, we are thrilled to have the opportunity to meet you.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I mumble. “But par for the course with Claudia. I can’t recall a single moment when she made my life easy; it has always been a struggle with her.”
Jonas jerks, his shoulders slumping, and I meet his gaze with a furrowed brow, sensing the weight of his sorrow. With a gradual motion, he turns his head, and our eyes lock.
“I had no idea. I swear I didn’t. If I did and knew how she treated you, I would have intervened. She’s always been a bit uptight and conceited,” he murmurs, his tone filled with disappointment. “But I never expected her to be cruel.”
“Well, for starters, my whole life, I’ve been told that you left the minute you found out about me, and that unwanted feeling has stuck with me. Then add that I wasn’t popular enough, or slutty enough, in school. I worried too much about school and not enough about how I looked.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his words dripping with regret.
“It’s not on you. But I do want to know. If you didn’t know about me, why did she move to Vermont? Why not tell you and see if you wanted to be a dad?”
