I don’t fight when he pushes me onto his bed.
I should. This is r**e. This is sick. He’s twice my age and married to my mother. But my body is already humming, traitorously wet, remembering the soreness every morning like a dirty secret.
Marcus climbs over me, heavy and warm. His c**k drags along my slit, thick head nudging my entrance.
“Look at this greedy cunt,” he growls. “Already dripping like a w***e even though you’re supposed to be my innocent stepdaughter.”
“I shouldn’t—” I start, but he cuts me off by shoving two thick fingers deep inside me without warning. The wet squelch is filthy. He curls them, stroking that spot that makes my eyes roll back.
“You shouldn’t, but you do. Every night you sleepwalk in here and let Daddy use this tight hole.” He pumps his fingers faster, a
