Marcus waited until 1:23 a.m. again the next night, heart pounding like a f*****g drum as he stood outside Mia’s bedroom door. His c**k was already rock-hard in his boxers, leaking pre-c*m just from the memory of last night—how tight her sleeping p***y had gripped him, how her body had started rolling against his thrusts even while she dreamed.
He’d spent the whole day watching her: the way she’d bent over in those tiny shorts to grab a soda from the fridge, calling him “Daddy” with that sweet smile while her mother was in the next room. She had no idea her stepfather had already filled her cunt with c*m while she slept.
He pushed the door open silently and stepped inside, locking it behind him.
Mia was on her stomach this time, face turned toward the wall, one leg pulled up so her a*s
