Page 20

Twelve

M arley

The new wing Cade built is everything I never knew I wanted.

This is mountain cabin perfection, a place for me to study, to think, to read through the romance and fantasy books already starting to fill the shelves that line the walls.

It’s not luxury. Luxury isn’t something either of us would want.

But it’s mine, and Cade made it just for me, and I love it.

No sticks that look like they shouldn’t ever hold together here. Just huge logs made into walls, a thatched roof, and an interior I had a hand in decorating.

Fairy lights, a pastel-blue rug, a chalkboard and a shelf stacked with stuffed animals, all of which have names.

Things I never got to experience growing up, but that now I get to enjoy without feeling judged, without feeling self-conscious.

Oh, and a mini fridge filled with juice boxes, that I get to enjoy “as a treat” so long as I also eat proper meals.

Sarah came to visit with her Derek her husband last week and it was like having family over. Relaxed and fun. I drank wine and Sarah and I did Karaoke on the machine Cade bought for me.

She was so happy for me. Cade promised we would go visit them in their new home outside of Chicago where Sarah is working as a nurse and Derek owns his own construction company.

I’ve had little contact with my parents, but I need the time. I need a parental detox and I know they love me and what Cade said that day at the university, they’ll come around.

“Journalistic ethics,” I repeat again, tapping the ruler against the chalk board.

I don’t miss the way Cade’s gaze dips to my thighs, where the button up he lent me—the only item of clothing I’m currently wearing—lifts as I reach up.

“Mr. Boone, can you tell the class the difference between objectivity neutrality?”

He licks his lips as he shifts his weight, the tiny wooden chair creaking in protest as he continues to stare at my ever-so-slightly revealed butt.

As he leans forward over his desk, I sigh. “Mr. Boone?”

“I just tell it like it is, Professor Babygirl.”

I fight the urge to smirk. No wonder he didn’t like school, I bet he was the naughty boy in every classroom, making wise cracks to get the other kids to laugh.

“Mr. Boone, that’s not an acceptable answer,” I tell him, trying to sound strict.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Yes.” I wait for just a fraction of a second. “If you raise your hand first.”

“Oh, you want me to raise my hand?”

“Is that your question?”

“My question is, how far do you think you can run before I catch you, little girl?”

I squeeze my thighs together, trying to keep myself from making any involuntary noises. It’s my turn to be in charge for once, and he just has to keep trying his luck, doesn’t he?

“Mr. Boone, please stand.”

He smirks, and I swear that mouth has some mystical connection to my pussy, which starts lubricating in expectation. Damn it.

“I said stand up . Don’t make me repeat myself.”

He finally does as he’s told, still smirking, and without asking he starts toward me at the front of the room. Before I know it, I’m trapped between his arms, his hands planted firmly against the chalk board on either side of my head.

“I thought I was going to be in charge?” I ask.

“Change of plan, little girl. Biology lesson.”

“That’s not—”

His hand tangles into my hair, yanking my head back with a delicious sting. “Down on your knees. Now.”

All I can do is nod as I sink down. His hand doesn’t leave my hair, in fact it grips tighter as I kneel, controlling every movement.

“Hand between those legs. I bet you’re good and wet for me already, aren’t you, teach? Ready for Daddy’s big cock.” He watches as I put my hand between my legs, finding myself soaked. “Go ahead, start playing with that tight little girl cunt, that pretty swollen clit.”

He unzips with his free hand as I follow his instructions, and without a word my face is shoved against his dick. I open without question, letting him slide inside my mouth as I masturbate.

“Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck…” He starts to moan as I suck him off, my head dragged back and forth by the hair, the pinprick stings mixing with the throbbing heat of my pussy as I play with myself, surrounded by my toys, by my games, and by my studies.

“Have you made a decision yet, Marley?” he asks as he fucks my face. I nod my head. “Use your words.”

“I’m meant to be out there, telling stories,” I say, though with my mouth full of cock it comes out about as understandable as you’d imagine.

“Good girl,” he praises, the hair pulling turning gentle for a moment, and I feel my body clench. “A decision just for you, made by you. I’m proud of you, baby.”

I smile around his dick, mumbling a thank you that has drool spilling from my mouth.

In some ways, I loved my academic work. Maybe one day I’ll go back to it.

But right now, I want to follow my heart, and that’s leading me into the field.

I’m not under any illusions that investigative journalism is going to be easy.

There will be difficult days and heartache ahead, but we’ll get through it together.

Dr. Brooks introduced me to so many amazing people, people who’ve encouraged me to follow my own path, and they’ve given me resources and contacts that would have taken a decade to build on my own.

I’m lucky. I know that. And I’m living my best life.

“Suck harder,” Cade says, and I do. At the same time, I start moving my hand faster between my legs, rocking my hips as the end draws near.

When I crash over the edge into an orgasm, Cade spurts right down my throat.

What I can’t catch in my mouth drips into my palm, and I rub it into my pussy as I continue to suck, taking everything he’s got to give.

I came off the pill 6 months ago, and I haven’t looked back, and we’ve done enough fucking to put a whole orchestra of babies inside me, but who knows, the cum I’m rubbing into my pussy right now might be the thing that tips the balance.

Because I’m no longer afraid to follow my heart or fight for what I want.

With Daddy by my side, how can I lose?