Page 12

Seven

C ade

Tracking takes us hours into the woods, following a deer trail that at first Marley swears I’m making up, but then gradually she starts to notice the signs for herself.

In the end, she can point them out before I even have to prompt her. And that’s fucking good progress.

The weather changes while we're walking back to camp. What had been clear skies an hour ago is now building into the kind of storm system that can turn deadly fast in these mountains, especially later in the year.

But all I can think about is the look on Marley's face when she talked about her parents crushing her dreams. The way she deflated when she mentioned that PhD program they've signed her up for like she's a fucking package they're shipping off to Harvard.

And the way she lit up when she said Christiane Amanpour's name. Like just speaking it out loud reminded her that brave women exist in the world.

"Storm's coming," I say, checking the sky. The wind is picking up, and I can smell rain in the air. “It’s going to be bad. Real bad. We should probably push back the wilderness camping thing.”

"How can you tell?" She looks up at the clouds that are definitely darker than they were twenty minutes ago. "I mean, obviously it's getting cloudy, but how do you know it's going to be bad?"

"Barometric pressure. Wind direction. The way the birds went quiet about ten minutes ago." I adjust my pack and pick up the pace. "Things are changing fast, we’re not going to make it back to camp. We need to find shelter."

"But we can’t be more than a few miles away, surely?"

"Two and a half miles. That’s too far if this hits as hard as I think it's about to.

" I scan the area, looking for options. "There's an old hunting blind about two hundred yards north.

It's not much, but it'll keep us dry and protect us from lightning strikes.

Mountain trees are like lightning rods, and they can explode like bombs if they get struck. "

Five minutes later, the first drops start falling. By the time we reach the blind—a small lean-to structure that doesn’t get much use or maintenance—it's coming down hard enough that we're both soaked.

"This is cozy," Marley says, pressing herself against the back wall of the tiny shelter once I get her inside, reach into my pack and pull out an electric lantern. It’s barely big enough for me. Laying down I’d be wall to wall.

"Cozy's one word for it." I shed my wet jacket and hang it on a nail that's probably older than both of us. "Come here."

"Why?"

"Because you're shivering and your lips are turning blue." I sit down on the old wooden bench that runs along one wall and pat my lap. "Body heat. I told you, it’s not a ploy, it’s basic survival."

"I'm fine."

"You're hypothermic." I reach for her, but she steps back.

"I'm not hypothermic. I'm just a little cold."

"Marley." I use the voice that has made grown men follow me up mountains without question. "Come. Here."

She comes, as I sit on the only furniture in the small space a little bench against one wall. She perches herself on the edge of my lap like she's planning to bolt the second the rain stops.

"That's not how this works." I pull her fully against me, arranging her so she's straddling my thighs, chest to chest. "Better."

"This is very..." She swallows hard. "Close."

"That's the idea." I rub my hands up and down her arms, trying to get her circulation going. "Your clothes are soaked. You need to get out of them."

"Absolutely not."

"It's not a request." I'm already reaching for the hem of her shirt. "Wet clothes will kill you faster than no clothes in weather like this."

"I can't just—" She catches my hands. "We're supposed to be maintaining professional boundaries."

"Professional boundaries?" I look at her like she's lost her mind. "Little girl, I had my tongue in your pussy less than twenty-four hours ago, I spanked your ass out in the woods and you were doing a pretty fucking phenomenal job jacking me off earlier today. What fucking professional boundaries?"

Her cheeks go red, but she doesn't let go of my hands. "That was different."

"How?"

"That was...research." She struggles for words. "Spontaneous. This feels more... deliberate."

"Damn right it's deliberate." I tug her shirt up despite her protests. "I'm deliberately keeping you from dying of exposure."

"I'm not going to die from—"

The shirt comes off, and whatever she's about to say dies on her lips when she sees the way I'm looking at her. Like I want to devour her whole. Her tits are perfection. Tight dark pink nipples pushing out on the wet white fabric.

A masterpiece.

"Fuck," I breathe.

She's perfect. Small and soft and everything I imagined when I had my hands on her in the dark. Her bra is plain white cotton, probably bought for function rather than form, but it doesn't matter. She could be wearing a garbage bag, and I'd still want to fuck her through the Goddamn floor.

"Cade," she whispers.

"I know." I force myself to focus on the practical. "Pants too."

"I can't."

"You can, and you will." I help her stand up on shaky legs and start working at the button of her hiking pants. "Trust me."

"I do trust you. It's just..." She looks down at my hands working at her clothes. "I've never been naked in front of anyone before. Not completely naked."

The confession hits me harder than it should. This brilliant, beautiful girl has never let anyone see her. Never trusted anyone enough to be completely vulnerable.

"Hey." I tilt her chin up so she has to look at me. "You know what I see when I look at you?"

She shakes her head.

"I see someone who’s not afraid to take a risk with a man she met in a hotel bathroom." I kiss her softly, gently. "I see the bravest little girl I've ever met. I see someone so fucking beautiful and smart and interesting it makes my chest hurt."

Her pants are wet enough that they practically peel off her legs. I work her boots off then drag of her socks, then her pants, tossing everything into the corner.

When she's standing in front of me in nothing but cotton underwear, I have to take a deep breath to keep from feeding her every thick inch of me with no prep work which, no bueno. Don’t want to tear her in half. At least, not the first time.

"Come back here," I say, pulling her down to straddle me again. "Better?"

"Warmer," she admits.

"Good." I run my hands over her bare skin, mapping the curve of her waist, the soft swell of her breasts. "You're so fucking perfect."

"I'm not—"

"Don't." I silence her with a kiss that's harder than the first one, more demanding letting our tongues talk for a minute before pulling back. "Don't argue with me about how perfect you are."

She melts into me, her body going pliant in a way that tells me she's finally letting go of whatever wall she's been trying to maintain between us.

"Daddy," she whispers against my lips, and the word goes straight to my cock.

"That's right, little girl." I unhook her bra and toss it aside, groaning at the sight of her bare breasts, the little nipples hardening in the cool air, calling out to be sucked, to be worshiped. "Tell Daddy what you need."

"I need..." She squirms against me, her core pressed right against the hard length of me through my jeans. "I need you to touch me."

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

I start with her breasts, taking one perfect nipple into my mouth while I palm the other. She arches into me, her hands fisting in my hair as I lavish attention on each in turn.

"More," she gasps.

"More what?"

"I don't know. I just... I need more."

"I know what you need." I lift her off my lap and lay her down on the bench, positioning myself between her spread thighs. "You need Daddy to take care of you."

I hook my fingers in her panties and pull them down her legs, leaving her completely bare in front of me. She tries to close her legs, but I catch her knees and hold them open.

"Don't hide from me," I say firmly. "Let me see all of you."

She's beautiful everywhere, but especially here, pink and wet and ready for me. She’s natural too, and I love every curl. I can't resist leaning down to taste her, to run my tongue through her folds and listen to the broken sound she makes when I find her clit.

"Oh God," she pants. "Cade, please."

"Please what?"

"Please whatever you do down there with your mouth, do more."

“You’re turning into a proper greedy babygirl slut for me.

” I work her with my mouth until she's writhing and bucking, until her thighs are shaking and she's making sounds that are going to live in my fantasies for the rest of my life.

Her body rewards me with mouthfuls of her delicious warmth, and I swallow it down as she calls for Daddy over and over.

“Daddy…”, she moans, her hands pulling at my hair hard enough to hurt. I keep going until she stops shaking, then press soft kisses to her thighs while she catches her breath.

"Holy shit," she breathes when she can speak again.

"Language, little girl."

"Sorry, Daddy." She doesn't look sorry. She looks satisfied and sleepy and completely debauched. "That was..."

"That was just the starter." I stand up and start unbuttoning my damp shirt, still licking my lips, savoring the taste of her. "Now it's time for the main course."

Her eyes go wide as I strip out of my clothes, but she doesn't look away. If anything, she watches with the same focused intensity she brings to everything else, like she's memorizing every detail.

"God, how do you look bigger?" she asks with a mixture of fear and awe when I'm finally naked in front of her.

"And you're so small."

Christ. No condom. Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to stop, to think this through.

But she's nineteen, on the fucking enemy pill her controlling parents put her on to keep her from making any mistakes.

And the primitive part of me that has already claimed her as mine wants to mark her completely, to fill her with my seed and make her truly mine.