These goddamn kids are still learning how to touch each other at this point.
I stalk toward the door, then whip it open and stare down at Skylar and Richter.
It makes sense that neither of them would be brave enough to come up here alone, but that doesn’t excuse it.
“What?” I snarl at them.
“I just wanted to tell you that I got her to do it again,” Richter mumbles as he lowers his eyes to the hallway floor.
“Took you long enough. Now take your asses downstairs and go the fuck to sleep,” I instruct them evenly.
I know he’s lying.
I didn’t hear her up here, and with as new as she is to this, she would have let out a loud moan like she did when I played with her little pink pearl until she came.
Or maybe she wouldn’t have.
As they turn to walk away, I reach a hand out and grip Skylar by her shoulder and yank her back toward me.
“Yes, Daddy?” she asks nervously.
“That table and floor better be spotless. I don’t plan on eating my breakfast in your little whorish puddles.”
“It is, Daddy.”
“Good, now go to bed.”
I slam the door so violently that the walls shake.
I can hear them gasp and run down the hallway, then the echo of their footsteps as they barrel down the stairs.
Once I hear two separate doors close downstairs, I take a deep breath and go to my bed.
Being a parent shouldn’t have to be this fucking hard, but at least I’m good at it, I think as I turn on my side and stare out the open window.