As the climax washes over us like a tidal wave, my body convulses with pleasure. I surrender to the overwhelming sensation of an orgasm.
I feel Nate’s cock pulsating in my mouth. I swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him on my tongue.
“We’re so lucky to have you, princess,” Cain gasps as he fills me with his cum.
The rain pours down on our bodies, drenching us. It washes away the remnants of our sins, leaving us feeling cleansed. My hair hangs heavy and wet, plastered against my face, tangled strands that obscure my vision.
The roar of thunder reverberates through the air, shaking the very ground beneath us. Our chests heave with exertion, each breath a struggle against the weight of the storm surrounding us.
I slowly open my eyes and realize it’s still dark outside. Disoriented, I try to make sense of my surroundings and soon realize I’m in Cain’s room. I don’t remember how or why I ended up here since I went to sleep in Mike’s bed. I feel cold, so I grab a throw and wrap it around myself, seeking comfort. I step out of the bedroom and try to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake anyone up. I walk around the house, observing my surroundings and trying to get my bearings. I suddenly feel thirsty and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. As I pour the water, I glance out the window and notice someone sitting outside on a garden chair, smoking in the darkness. Feeling slightly startled, I slowly approach the front door and whisper, “Nate?” hoping it’s him and not some stranger lurking outside.
Cain speaks up after taking a drag of his cigarette, his voice deep and husky. I can’t help but feel a bit taken aback as I watch him exhale a cloud of smoke. “You smoke?” I ask, feeling confused as I tighten the throw around my shoulders. “I haven’t in five years. Until tonight,” he replies, his eyes gazing off into the distance. I shake my head in disapproval. He takes one final drag of the cigarette before tossing it to the ground, crushing it with the sole of his shoe. He motions for me to come over and sit on his lap.
The moonlight shines bright, reflecting off the windows. Cain has one hand behind my back and another one on my lap.
With a sly grin spreading across my face, I remark, “What we got up to in the forest was pretty surreal, don’t you think?”
“What, the murdering or the fucking the daylights out of you in a thunderstorm?”
I scoff.
“The sex. It felt like some kind of ritual...”
“That’s how my princess deserves to be fucked. Like you’re being worshiped in a ritual.”
My pussy flutters as I bite my bottom lip and smile.
“Why did I wake up in your room?” I ask him, hoping for an explanation. Cain raises an eyebrow at me and I can see the hesitation in his eyes. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “Truthfully?” I nod, eager to know the reason. “Some nights, I find it hard to sleep without you. So I bring you to my room and before you wake up, I take you back to your bed,” he confesses, his voice soft and low. As he reveals his true intentions, my heart melts and I see a side of him that I never knew existed.
I lean in and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. In a deep voice, he quickly adjusts his body and speaks, “I’m not a softie, alright? I’m not your savior or your knight. You belong to me and no one else gets to lay a finger on you except Nate and Mike.” I can’t help but giggle at his words, his effort in trying to hide his soft side.
He roughly takes hold of my hair and jerks it backward, causing me to wince. He looks at me with annoyance. “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” he says in a low, menacing tone. “Remember who’s in charge here, princess. I’m the one who owns you.”
My voice fills with anger and frustration as I assert my independence. “You may think you have control over me, but I’m here with you by choice. Not because you’re forcing me to be.” The words come out as a hiss, laced with defiance and determination.
It’s difficult to understand him sometimes. He’s affectionate and warm at times, but other times, he appears very controlling and domineering. It’s almost like he has two different personalities.
He firmly grips my jaw with his other hand and forces me to look directly into his eyes.
“You might think it’s your choice. But you have no choice when it comes to us,” he says in a threatening tone, his words dripping with malice.
I furrow my eyebrows and mumble. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a choice with the Ackley twins, either.”
Straight away, I knew I shouldn’t have said that. There was no way he, Nate, or Mike would be like the twins. Why did I say that?
His facial expression transforms into one of anger. His eyes narrow, and his lips tighten as he speaks through gritted teeth. “Don’t you ever fucking compare me to those monsters! I know I’m no saint, but I am not a fucking monster.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’d go to the ends of the Earth and back if it meant I could make you happy. No monster would fucking do that. Don’t ever forget that,” he whispers into my ear, his breath warm against my skin. I know without a doubt that he means every single syllable. Looking into his eyes, I can see his fierce determination and unwavering loyalty to me.
“I know. I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” I sob with a tear running down my cheek.
He releases his firm grip on my trembling jaw. With tenderness in his eyes, he wipes away the tear that had escaped my eye with his index finger and then leans forward to plant a hard, lingering kiss on my lips.
CHAPTER
THIRTEENNATE
I stand outside the care home and I can’t help but stare at the towering white building adorned with beautiful floral window boxes. The fresh scent of bluebells in my hand reminds me of my childhood visits to the forest with my mother. Taking a deep breath, I enter the care home and approach the front desk where a friendly nurse in uniform greets me. “Hello, Mr. Greenman,” she says with a warm smile. “Here to see your mother?” With a nod, I sign the visitor’s book, eager to see my mother again after a long time. “How is she doing?” I ask with a hopeful tone. “Has she mentioned me?” The nurse glances up from the book and gives me a closed-lipped smile before replying, “I’m sorry, Mr. Greenman, she hasn’t mentioned you. However, she is doing fine.” I can’t help but feel a mix of emotions as I make my way down the hall to see her.
I approach the door and feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness. I knock twice and wait for a response. “Come in,” a soft voice calls out from inside. I turn the handle and open the door, peering into the room. My mother is sitting on a creaky rocking chair, gazing out the window. I clear my throat and ask, “May I come in?” She turns and smiles at me, “Of course, dear.” I make my way over to her, presenting the bouquet of freshly picked bluebells. “Look what I have,” I say, holding up the flowers for her to see. “Oh, wow. Bluebells. They are my favorite flower,” she exclaims, reaching out to take them from me. I pull up a wooden chair and sit down next to her. I look at her for a moment. Her gray-bobbed hair reflects the sunshine and her smile is as beautiful as ever. She holds the bluebells close to her face, inhaling their sweet fragrance. “What’s your name then, dear?” she asks me, looking up at me with a curious expression. My heart sinks at her question.
I introduce myself to her. “I’m Nate,” I say.
She giggles and responds, “Oh, lovely. You remind me of my father. Do you know where he is?” My eyes tear up. My grandfather has been dead since I was six. I reply, “Well, did you know you’re my mother?” Her voice becomes confused as she responds, “Alright, I guess I’ll be your mother.” It’s heart-wrenching to see her this way. Alzheimer’s has taken away her memory and now she doesn’t even recognize me. It’s a cruel disease that slowly erases all the beautiful memories we’ve shared.
She gazes down at the delicate bluebells, a wistful expression crossing her face, and whispers, “Do you know I love bluebells?” A bittersweet laugh escapes my lips, mingled with tears, as I respond softly, “Yes, I do.”
I turn to her and gesture towards the window, remarking on the stunning view from her room. “Just look at that,” I say, pointing to the tranquil lake beyond. “The way the water shimmers in the sunlight and the two swans gliding gracefully across its surface...it’s truly breathtaking.” She nods in agreement, a peaceful expression crossing her face. “The view is one of the reasons I love staying here,” she says, settling into the rocking chair. “It’s so serene–just being surrounded by nature like this. Can I ask you something, dear? Do you happen to know what time my father is picking me up?” she asks, her tone gentle and curious.
I try to avoid the subject of her father.
“So, what have you been up to today?” I ask instead, hoping to shift the focus to something more positive. “I did some painting and listened to music,” she replies, her voice laced with a hint of enthusiasm.
“That sounds really nice,” I say, genuinely impressed. “And how about the food? Is it still as good as before?”
