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“Amelia,” his worry lines deepened at the sight of me, “is everything alright?”
David’s father spoke to me gently and with a warm rumble that sent a surprising tremor across my skin.
The scent of pipe tobacco and freshly brewed coffee wafted out with him, instantly filling the air as my tears welled at the precipice. I tried to hold them back, but they blurred insistently at the already hazy image of Mr. Miller. Was I truly so naive to think that David would show up this time?
“I, uh,” I stammered, caught off guard by his unexpected presence. The kindness in his voice broke the dam, and I felt utterly ridiculous as the tears began to flow freely. What surprised me even more was they way he pulled me into an embrace.
”You’re crying,” he stated, his voice laced with frustration on my behalf. He released me from the hug, and before I could process the way his gaze sunk into mine, I found my legs spread apart for his consumption.
“Wait, I—”
“Forget him, Amelia… My son is a fucking idiot.” He grumbled and fell onto my lips, sucking my mouth with such lust that it forced me to kiss him back. “You deserve to be loved, sweetheart.”
A tear ran down my cheek as I realized I was about to be force-fucked by my boyfriend’s father, and the worst thing of it all was the fact that I wasn’t completely against it.
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