The footsteps pause right outside my door.
Sophia freezes with the thick head of the strap-on pressed against my entrance, both of us slick and throbbing. My heart is hammering so hard I’m scared it’ll give us away. Dad’s voice comes through the wood, sleepy, concerned.
“Emma? You okay in there? Thought I heard a noise.”
Sophia’s eyes lock onto mine, dark with that cruel, obsessive glint that makes my stomach drop and my p***y clench at the same time. She doesn’t pull back. Instead, she pushes forward, just the fat tip breaching me, stretching my soaked entrance open.
I slap a hand over my own mouth, eyes wide.
“I’m, fine, Dad,” I choke out, voice cracking. “Just… a bad dream. Go back to sleep.”
Silence. Then, “Alright. Night, kiddo.”
The footsteps retreat down the hall. The second
