I kiss her again, deepening it slightly, and stepping closer to let our bodies brush against each other.
"Why wasn't it me?" Fiona whispers. Her eyes are downcast, and I nudge her nose with mine to lift her face. "Why wasn't it me, Cade? Why them?"
I hate hearing the doubt in her voice. I don't want her to feel, even for a second, that she wasn't good enough for me. Cupping my hand on her cheek, I stroke a tear away from her velvety skin with the pad of my thumb.
"You were so precious to me." I kiss her forehead and trail my lips down the bridge of her nose. "So precious. I wanted you more than I can ever tell you." My other hand comes to the side of her face, and I brush my lips across her cheekbone, then kiss down to the curve of her jaw. "You were so beautiful, so sweet. I wanted to touch you, I wanted to make love to you." I kiss along the other side of her jaw, then bring my lips up to brush against hers. "I couldn't bring myself to. You were so much more than that. I didn't choose them, Fiona. I chose you."
She sighs into the soft kiss I touch to her plush mouth, and I tenderly slip her bottom lip between mine. Not wanting to lose myself in her delectable body until the morning just yet, I pull away. I look around until my eyes fall on the canoes in their rack, and I nod toward them.
"Let's go for a ride," I say.
She looks at the canoes with uncertainty.
"I've never been in a canoe before," she says. "And it's getting dark."
"There's nothing out there that's going to get you," I say. "You'll be with me. I'll keep you safe."
She follows me over to the rack, and we lift one of the boats out of place. Setting it at the edge of the water, I push it in slightly, then take Fiona's hand to help her step in. The boat wobbles, and she gasps slightly, reaching out for me with her other hand.
"I need to get you outside more," I say. "You've lost all the country that used to be in you."
"I'm not sure how much there ever really was," she says. "That's what's good about being in the city. No one expects you to be able to do things like fix a floor, or put up a tent, or get into a canoe."
"So, what is it you do out there? It sounds pretty boring."
I laugh, but she shoots me a stubborn look.
"Because billionaires are known for staying in touch with their roots, and spending time communing with nature," she says.
I push the canoe a little further into the water and step in, settling onto the bench seat across from her.
"My money hasn't changed who I am," I say. "Not in the important ways. Don't you ever miss home?"
"I only moved a couple of hours away," she argues. "And I hear these lunches you have with Grammie aren't exactly every day."
"She's too busy for me," I say with a laugh. "And Franklin does a lot, but it's still my company. It's not like I spend all my time just relaxing."
"Or lurking around in your mysterious mansion," she says.
I smile.
"Well, that does take up a lot of my schedule. But, honestly, Fiona, that city isn't for you. That apartment? Working in one of those buildings that look like a prison block doing the same thing as the other couple thousand people in the same building? That's not you. That's not the girl I know."
"Who's the girl you know?" she asks softly.
I pick up the paddles and direct the canoe into the center of the lake. It's peaceful there, the water only rippling slightly when the fish slip up near the surface to eat. I look at her sitting across from me and consider what she just asked. There are so many ways I could answer the question, so many things I could tell her about the way I see her now, and the way I saw her then.
"Just not that," he says. "I'm not saying I think you should be wearing gingham and planting vegetables, but I don't think your heart is in the city, Fiona. I think you wanted it to be. You wanted to have somewhere else you were supposed to be, and somewhere else where you could have your life. You always say how much you didn't like being out here, but I remember it differently. No, you were never one to enjoy doing all the woodworking with Gramps, and you were always a bit jumpy about the night sounds, but you were alive here, Fiona. The first time I saw you every summer, it was like you were washed out. But the longer you were here, the more you woke up. The color and the sparkle came back. Whether you were curled up reading, hanging up the laundry, or even building something with us, you were comfortable. You were comfortable here, and you were comfortable in your skin."
"It wasn't just being out in the country that made me feel that way," she says. Our eyes meet. I can see the question there. It's the question I've waited for her to ask for years, but haven't wanted to hear because I didn't know how to answer it. "Why didn't you come back? I waited for you."
Setting the paddles in place, I ease forward enough to take her hands in mine.
"I know you did," I say.
"Then why? Why didn't you come back when you said you would? And why did you never tell me what happened? You never even reached out to me."
"I know I didn't. I told you, I was a coward. I regret those decisions more than anything else in my life. I wish I could change them."
"But you can't."
"I know."
"All you can do is tell me why. It won't change it. It won't let us go back and see what might have happened to our lives. But at least it will give me the explanation I've been waiting to hear for the last ten years."
I can hear the tears in her voice, and I know I can't deny her this. No matter how hard it is to put myself back into the place I was all those years ago, and force myself to feel those things again, I owe her the answers.
"I always planned to be there, Fiona. You have to know that. I didn't tell you to be there and wait for me just because I thought it sounded good, or as some kind of joke."
"I know you didn't," she says.
"Are you sure you don't?" I ask. "The first time you saw me at Grammie' house, you looked at me like you hated me."
"I don't hate you, Cade. I could never hate you."
"I'm used to being left behind or put aside. That's been my life as long as I can remember. I've been on my own and taken care of myself. Even when I was struggling and going down a path I shouldn't have, I was still doing it myself. I didn't care about anyone who was there with me. It didn't matter to me if I ever saw any of them again, and I always anticipated that each time I left a party or got home from whatever I was doing, it would be the last time I saw some of them. I didn't care. It never bothered me. Then there was you. You are the person I’ve always worried about losing. The thought of never seeing you again was something I couldn't bear."
"But you left," she protests. "You're the one who walked away."
"I never thought I wasn’t going to see you again. That night, I was absolutely sure that I would go to the house, find you, and escape into the night to start our life together. I had been waiting for you for years, and you were finally old enough, finally not the little girl everyone told me to behave around. I could take you into my arms and make you mine. We'd have everything we'd always wanted, and no one would be able to tell us no. I couldn't wait for that moment. But the closer I got, the more I started thinking about what would happen next."
"What do you mean? You just said next was going to be the life we had always wanted."
"But what if it didn’t work out?" I ask. "What if that's not what happened?"
"What could have happened?"
"Anything," I say. "That's exactly the problem. The closer I drove to the house, the more possibilities flashed through my mind. Who was I to plan your life out for you? You had so much potential. You always did. I was nothing, and at that point, I didn't see myself ever becoming anything. I was just going to figure it out as it came. It would be an adventure. But then I thought about you. I thought about all you could become and all you could accomplish. There was so much in life for you, and I was going to take it away from you. I needed to prove that I was worthy of you."
"By leaving? By disappearing when I needed you
so much?"
"All I could think about was what would happen if something went wrong. If something happened, and I messed up, I could lose you. You'd be gone, and I'd never have you back in my life. But if I walked away, I could work on myself and become what you deserved before our life began. There was never the possibility I wouldn't see you again. I couldn't fathom it. If I went to that porch that night, I would have lost you. Turning away meant I didn't have to face that. I could just continue to hold you in my heart forever."
In the moonlight, I can see Fiona staring at me. I can't decipher the expression on her face. I don't know what she's thinking, and I fight against the screaming in my chest to give her the time she needs to think through what I've said.
"You should have come," she finally says. "You should have been there."
"I know I should have."
"You should have looked me in the eyes and told me what you were feeling."
"I know."
"I wanted you, Cade. I wanted that life. I had been dreaming of it since I was eleven years old. You were everything to me. I would have faced anything with you by my side."
"I know you would have, Fiona. That's why I didn't come that night. You would have stood there beside me, even when I didn't deserve it. I wanted you to know I wasn't just settling for you. I was fighting for you."
"I didn't need you to make that decision for me, Cade. I didn't need you to decide what I was going to think, or do, or want. That was my decision."
"I wanted to protect you, Fi. I've always wanted to protect you."
"You didn't need to protect me from you. Like you said, I was old enough. I'd been dreaming about that moment for so long, and yes, I was young, and yes, I had no idea what the real world held for me. But I had you. At least I thought I did. And that's all that mattered to me. I've never gotten to choose my life. I didn't choose to have my parents killed. I didn't choose to have my grandparents raise me rather than just being able to be my grandparents, and they didn't choose it either. Having to take care of me took away the life they could have had. I might have been far too young to have my entire life planned in front of me, but that still wasn’t your place to decide."
"I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way."
The intensity of her voice has grown, and I can hear the heat in it. My heart pounds in my chest and the same heat creeps up the back of my neck. There's anger and regret between us, but there's also a passion and desire that neither of us can deny. I want my hands on her. I want my mouth on her skin.
"Bring the canoe back to the shore," she says.
It's not a question, but a command, and my cock jumps.
"Do you want to go back?" I ask as I paddle back toward the darkened stretch of sand at the edge of the moonlit lake.
"No," she says.
She doesn't add anything else, and I feel caught like she is exerting absolute control over me. When I've guided the canoe close enough to the shore, I step out and pull it the rest of the way up onto the sand. I turn to extend my hand to Fiona, to help her climb out, but she is already out, wading through the shallow water to the shore. I drag the boat over to the rack and feel her step up behind me. Her body molds to my back, her hands running around my waist and onto my stomach and chest. I lean back slightly into her and feel her mouth touch the side of my neck. Her hot breath trails down my skin, followed by the tip of her tongue. It's intense and intoxicating and makes my head spin.
Fiona's hand presses hard against my chest while the other slides down my stomach to the front of my pants. It runs over the bulge of my engorged cock straining against my pants, then cups it firmly. Her teeth nip at my neck, and I groan, reaching around behind me to grab her ass in one hand and pull her harder against me. Her mouth comes to my ear, biting into it before she speaks.
"You made love to me earlier today, Cade, and it was incredible," she whispers. My body shivers as I feel her lips brush my ear with each word. "I have never experienced anything that." Her hand squeezes my cock subtly, and the other strokes across my chest. "It was everything I envisioned ten years ago and so much more. But I haven't had enough."
"You haven't?" I groan.
"No. Everyone has always tried to make decisions for me and tell me what to do. Now it's my turn."
I lean back further, parting my thighs slightly to grant her more access. She rewards me by moving her hand down lower, filling her palm with my now-aching erection.
"What do you want?" I ask.
She massages into my cock, and I draw in a sharp breath.
"You're going to bring me up to the cabin. You're going to take off your clothes. Then you're going to fuck me. Then you're going to take a break to catch your breath. Then you're going to do it again." Her hand slides up from my fly to sweep under my shirt. I feel her fingertips on my lower belly for a brief second before her hand dips down into my waistband. They brush against the base of my shaft, and the sensation threatens to make me explode. "It's going to be fast." She draws her fingernails up from my cock through my coarse hair and back onto my belly. "And it's going to be hard. You're going to show me exactly why you think you should be in control."
With that, she steps away from me, her hands suddenly gone from my body, leaving me tingling in their wake. She walks away, and I fall into step behind her. This is so unlike her, and yet I feel like I'm seeing a part of her that has always been there, a part she's kept hidden. Something she's protected and kept secret from anyone. Except for me.
I follow her, watching her hips sway as she makes her way up the trail back toward the cabin. As we step inside, she takes her shirt off, stepping out of her shoes as she continues through the living room and toward the master bedroom. I follow her lead, undressing as I watch her gradually reveal her body. She moves with confidence, with a security and comfort in her body that wasn’t there when we were younger. There was always a hesitance in her, even just a few weeks ago. I immediately noticed the obvious differences in her when we first saw each other, but there was still that hint of uncertainty. Now, it's gone. She has complete command. She told me exactly what she needs, and there is nothing that will keep me from giving it to her.
By the time we get to the bedroom, she's completely naked, and her sweet, round ass bouncing in front of me as she walks is just too much for me to resist. I step up behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist, and using the other hand to clutch her breast. My fingers knead into it, her nipple hardening against my palm. I bury my head into the side of her neck and kiss her sweat-dampened skin as I push her forward onto the bed, so she lands on her elbows. Placing my hand on the base of her neck, I run my fingertips down her spine, into the dip of her lower back, and down into the wet heat of her pussy. She moans as I press my fingers into her, then over her clit. Fiona's back arches into the touch, presenting herself to me fully. Placing my hands on the insides of her thighs, I push her legs apart. I reach into the drawer of the bedside table and pull out one of the condoms I had tucked there earlier while unpacking. I tuck my hand between her legs as I tear open the package with my teeth and roll the condom into place.
She is already whimpering, her hips rolling slightly, but I'm not going to let her off that easily. I am going to show her she is absolutely in my control. Fiona starts to move like she's going to turn around, but I press my hand into her back to hold her down.
"No," I tell her. "Don't move. You're going to stay right there so I can taste you. I'm going to devour your delicious pussy, and then I'm going to sink my cock deep inside you and fuck you just like you asked me to."
Dropping down to my knees behind her, I take hold of her upper thighs and spread them, drawing my tongue through her folds. Her legs shake under my hands as I plunge my tongue inside her, sliding one hand up her thigh to rest on her belly so I can use the pad of my thumb to massage her clit. Fiona cries out, pushing her hips into me.
"Please, Cade," she groans.
I take my mouth from her, looking around her hip to see her foreh
ead buried in the mattress, and her hands gripping the blankets.
"What?" I ask. "What do you want?"
"You," she says, her voice so low, I can barely hear it.
"Tell me, Fiona," I command.
"You," she moans again. "I want you."
"Tell me what you want, Fiona."
I give her a quick, sharp smack, my palm stinging as it comes in contact with her ass, then grab onto the soft flesh, squeezing it briefly. She cries out again, her head falling back in reaction to the bright snap of pain. I smack her again, bringing another flush of pink across her skin and another cry from her throat. Her thighs part further, and she lifts her hips, giving me a delectable invitation.
"I want you to fuck me. Please, Cade. Fuck me."
With an animal rumbling in my chest, I position the tip of my cock at her entrance and slam into her. She lets out a scream, but I don't stop. Digging my fingertips into her hips to hold her steady, I thrust into her hard and fast. Her body welcomes me, and I push deeper with every stroke, stretching her as I fuck her with all the passion and need that's been building up inside of me for ten years. I've been inside her before. I was inside her a few hours ago. But I was making love to her then, connecting with her in a way I never had, a way I knew I only could with her.
This is different. This is pure primal instinct that makes me want to claim Fiona, to mark her and prove she's mine.
I run my tongue up her back, sinking my teeth into her shoulder. When I straighten, I bury my hand into her hair, gripping it tightly as I continue to thrust into her. I know I can't hold out for long. But it won't be difficult to live up to her request. Being deep inside her is addictive, and I will never get enough.
Fiona is shaking, her thighs glistening as I pound into her. The sounds pouring out of her mouth are getting higher and faster, desperation creeping into them as her cries echo off the walls. I know she's getting close, and the rush of my orgasm is building inside me at blinding speed. Leaning over her, I reach around her hip and bring my fingers to the bead of taut, sensitive flesh at her peak. I press into it, swirling my fingers over it as I increase my pace and intensity even more. She screams my name and sweat rolls across my skin. Neither of us can take much more, and I roar as I come hard inside her. At the same instant, Fiona sobs my name as an orgasm shudders through her. I sweep her shoulders and chest up so she sits up on her knees, her back pressed to my chest. Her head falls back onto my shoulder, and I cradle her breast with one hand, holding her hips in place with the other, and kissing along the side of her neck as I roll my hips into her to ride out the last waves of pleasure.
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