Page 69 of Sin Wagon
“Oh, fuck,” I cry when his tip hits my sweet spot and I squeeze my eyes shut. Pleasure courses through my body, while my mind becomes hazy.
“That’s it, Little Doe. Taking my cock so damn good. God, you feel amazing.”
“Ohhhh,” I pant as my orgasm starts to build. It’s slow at first, like a fire that’s just started to catch the kindling. Then it hits, like a flame igniting, and I fucking explode. In a quick motion, I twist my head and sink my teeth into my arm, muffling the scream that bursts from within me. My pussy clamps down on his cock, gripping him tight.
“Fuck!” he roars, slamming into me one last time before groaning loudly. His cock jerks inside me, thick ropes of warm cum coating my insides.
We remain like that, gasping for air, as we catch our breath. Wells pulls out and a gush of cum goes with him.
My eyes flutter open, catching a glimpse of him disappearing into the bathroom. I hear the soft sound of water running, and a sense of anticipation fills me. He returns moments later, a warm, damp cloth in his hand.
Wells kneels beside me, his eyes full of tenderness. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. He gently parts my legs, and the warmth of the cloth against my skin brings immediate relief. I let out a soft sigh, my body relaxing under his touch.
I maneuver up the bed as gracefully as I can, being eight months pregnant, and slide under the blanket, feeling the cool sheets against my skin. Wells wipes himself off and tosses the cloth in the hamper by the door with a casual flick of his wrist.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Getting there,” I reply, nestling into the pillows. I feel like a whale, but Wells never makes me feel anything less than beautiful.
He slides in next to me, and I lean my head on his chest, savoring the solid warmth of him beneath me. His arm wraps around me, and I feel his fingers trace gentle circles on my back. It’s a simple gesture, but it melts away any lingering discomfort.
Wells grabs the remote and turns the TV on, flipping through options on HULU until he lands on911.
“How about a marathon?” he suggests, a hint of a grin playing on his lips.
“Perfect,” I say, my voice muffled against his chest. The familiar scenes and characters fill the room, creating a comforting background as the afternoon turns into evening.
Chapter 31
DELILAH
“I have some work I need to get done.” Wells gets up from the bed. “Make yourself at home. What’s mine is yours.”
His warm, soft lips meet mine in a gentle kiss before he exits the room. I stretch, savoring the lingering taste of him, feeling content.
As I get up and go to the bathroom, I can’t stop thinking about how unreal this all seems. I turn on the shower and step in after a minute. The hot water cascades over me, washing away the remnants of sleep and filling me with renewed energy.
Once I’m dried off, I wander into his closet, which is enormous, like something out of a movie. The scent of his cologne fills the air, a distinct combination of cedar and citrus that instantly reminds me of him. I run my fingers over the neatly hung shirts and roll my eyes at how his shoes are lined up meticulously, each pair polished to perfection.
I grab a t-shirt from the dresser that says North Side College Prep and laugh out loud. The idea of this sophisticated, older man still holding onto a shirt from his high school days issimultaneously heartwarming and comical. It’s not even in bad condition, which makes me smile. I slide it on, along with a pair of boxers from the dresser, which feels strange since I’ve only ever seen him in briefs.
Braiding my hair into a high ponytail, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and smile at the sight of me in his clothes. It feels intimate, like I’m marking my territory and claiming him as my own in a special way. I gather my breakfast dishes and carry them to the kitchen. With the dishes cleaned and put away, I reach into the fridge for a bottle of tangerine mango water.
Since he's still working, I start exploring the house. The living room is spacious, and the large windows allow plenty of natural light to brighten the space. I run my hand over the back of the leather couch, the material cool and smooth under my palm. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with novels and National Geographic magazines. I flip through a few, smiling at the handwritten notes in the margins. It’s fascinating to see what captures his interest and imagination.
The dining room is just as impressive, featuring a long table that is fit for a royal feast. The sparkling light of the crystal chandelier hanging overhead illuminates the room. I peek into the study, finding Wells inside focused on his work with papers strewn across a large mahogany desk. His brows furrow in concentration, his fingers flying over the keyboard. I quietly shut the door so I don't disturb him and continue my exploration.
By four PM, I’m bored, so I head to the living room and turn on the TV. I find a movie I saw on TikTok about two girls who were kidnapped and escape by teaming up and attacking their captors. I watch for a bit, but then I lose interest. I grab the laptop on the coffee table and open it, hoping to surf the web, but it has a password. I text Wells.
Me: Hey, what’s the password for the laptop in the living room?
Wells: Almost done, but it’s LittleDoe3.
I roll my eyes,finding it both cheesy and endearing. It’s sweet that he used my nickname as his password.
Me: Did you change that after we met?
Wells: In May. It asked me to choose a new password. You were on my mind.
