Elena
I was on my knees in their bedroom, Marcus’s c**k down my throat, when my sister texted that the doctor was running late.
The phone buzzed on the nightstand. I saw Hannah’s name and didn’t stop. Marcus’s hand stayed in my hair, guiding me, his hips rolling in slow thrusts that made spit run down my chin and onto the marital sheets. He’d told me to be quiet. The house was empty except for us. Hannah was at her prenatal appointment across town. I’d come over to drop off the crib parts she’d ordered and somehow ended up with my brother-in-law’s belt open and my mouth full of him.
“Don’t stop,” he said, voice low. “She’s not back for at least an hour. Finish what you started.”
I’d started it. That was the worst part. He’d been stressed, shirt off, putting the crib together wrong. I’d
