Day fifty-nine felt like the mist had finally decided to stay. Willow Creek was wrapped in a soft, endless drizzle that made the lilacs droop and the porch cushions stay damp. The house on Maple Lane was quiet again, but the quiet now carried an edge — every notification on Elias’s phone felt like a new complication.
He woke me the same way he had every morning since Amina went back to school: curled tight around me from behind, one hand already between my thighs, fingers pushing his c*m from the night before deeper inside me while he whispered against my ear.
“Still so full of Daddy,” he growled softly. “My load from last night is still leaking out of this tight little p***y while my daughter is probably waking up next to texts from that Noah kid. Take it deeper, baby. Let me breed you
