12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Jarrett

T he whole day has been a fuckfest of epic proportions. Now, Ophelia is having a nap on the sofa in front of the fire while I make our dinner. The potatoes are almost done, so I get the pan prepared for our steaks and stir the peppercorn sauce. I hope she likes it medium-rare, because I'm not cooking it any other way, it would be a travesty to the steak.

Wait. What am I even thinking? I don't give a fuck if she likes it. Why would I? I can't.

It's so easy to forget our real-life situation while in this cabin, away from the rest of the world. The fact of the matter is, she's a vigilante taking down members of the organization I work for. And I've been tasked with keeping track of her movements and habits so that The Firm can kill her in the most effective and discreet way. It'll need to look like an accident.

Trouble is, she's working her way beneath my skin, like a fucking parasite.

In just over twenty-four hours, when I return her to the auction house, our little sex bubble will pop, but until then…fuck it and fuck the outside world.

This isn't the first time I've had these thoughts; I feel like I'm in a constant battle with myself this weekend. It's fucking exhausting so I'm pushing it aside again for now.

"Oh wow. What's that smell?" Her tired and husky voice pulls me from my inner torment, and I turn to find her heading toward the kitchen area with the large blanket wrapped around her naked body.

"That smell, my sleepy kitten, is dinner."

She stands behind me and rests her chin on my arm, looking around me to the pans on the stove. It's such a casual move, and I twist my neck and bend a little to kiss her on the forehead. I have to stop myself from breathing her in. She smells like sex and I want to bottle it to take home.

"Do you need any help?" Wrapping her arms around me from behind feels like the most natural thing in the world, but it's like she catches herself and moves away real quick, instead, leaning back against the fridge.

I chuckle because she's fucking cute.

"No." I wink. "Go and get yourself comfortable at the table on the balcony. I'll bring it all out when it's ready."

Ophelia slept for about an hour, which was plenty of time for me to get a quick shower and set up the table outside for dinner.

The way she pushes away from the fridge and sighs deeply makes me think she has something to say that she's holding back, but I choose to ignore it because dinner is ready and I'm fucking starving. Eating Ophelia's pussy is amazing, but it's not enough to sustain a man of my size. If I'm gonna keep pleasing this woman, then I need real food every now and then.

After plating up the steaks with mushrooms, fried tomatoes, potatoes, and a drizzle of the peppercorn sauce, I take them outside where she's waiting patiently. The sun is beginning to set on the horizon, making the view even more incredible. The bright colors bounce off the lake and the light reflects off her blonde hair…for fuck sake. My dick is not catching up with my brain here. These kind of thoughts are detrimental to fucking everything.

I set the plates down on the tablecloth before pouring us both a glass of wine. All the while, she's ignoring my existence and staring out at the lake view. I'm determined to separate this weekend from real life, but also, I could use it to find out the things I don't already know about her.

"Thank you." She speaks so politely, like it's ingrained into her very being.

"You're welcome, Princess."

The new nickname makes her twist in her chair and scowl at me, gripping the blanket around her chest.

"I am not a princess." Her words are dripping with an anger I haven't experienced from her before and I don't think I like it. "You can call me whatever you like, but that is not the one."

My first instinct is to question her, to ask why she's so against being called Princess, but then I remember who her father was. He was a member of The Firm, and he bought Ophelia's mother to be his submissive. Back then, there were a lot more women taken and sold against their will than there are now. Her mother was one of them. And her father was not a good master.

Clenching and unclenching my fists as we endure this stare-off, I take a deep breath and pick up my cutlery, stabbing into a mushroom before holding it to her mouth.

"Open." Her scowl deepens, but ultimately, she makes the right decision and separates her lips.

"Good girl."

She clamps down on the fork and I slide it out slowly, then watch her chew.

"Why are you doing this? This weekend is all about sex, isn't it? Why bother making sure I eat? I don't get it."

The question doesn't sit well with me. Has nobody ever looked after her?

"This weekend is about sex, yeah. But I'm not a fucking monster, Ophelia. I want to look after you." That statement is truer than she could imagine, and it fucking scares the crap outta me. Not that I'll be telling her that any time soon.

"I can look after myself. I've been doing it since I could walk. Pretty sure I can still do it now."

There's that sass again. I smirk, but it's hiding the anger I'm holding onto over the reminder of how she had to grow up. I did my research; her dad was a proper wanker. The kind of man I'd deny selling any girls to. The fact that he kept Ophelia's mother alive for so long was, quite frankly, very fucking surprising. According to hospital records, she had a lot of accidents. He had even put in some paperwork to start the process of selling Ophelia with The Firm, though it would've been packaged as more of an arranged marriage, but either way, I'm glad the cunt died when he did.

The exact details of his death are a mystery to me. Nobody was convicted of murder or arrested for any suspicions, but it happened on the same day Ophelia's mother committed suicide. The police report says there was an intruder who managed to take down all the high tech security systems that surrounded the house, but there's, without a doubt, more to it than that.

"You don't need to be so tough all the time, ya know? Sometimes you can let down that massive wall you've built up and accept that people aren't all bad." Okay, so technically, maybe I am, but not this weekend.

"I could let it down, yeah. But I won't. I'm not the only one being guarded here, though, Rhett ." She picks up her own fork and begins eating her dinner, and it pleases me more than I'd like to admit as I watch her enjoy her food.

"Fair point. We both have our secrets." I shrug, smirking at her as I eat.

The meal is almost finished by the time I remember the buttplug I pushed into her puckered hole earlier today. How could I forget? I need to see it.

"Drop the blanket and bend over."

With her fork halfway to her lips, she stops and glares at me. The trouble is, her eyes give her away because I can clearly see the glint of mischief flashing through them.

Slowly, she eats her final mouthful—because it will be the final one for this meal—then she stands and lets the blanket pool at her feet. Stepping out from the blanket, she turns and puts her palms on the seat of her chair, sticking that beautiful arse out for me to admire.

"Spread your cheeks."

She twists her head to look at me over her shoulder, right before bringing her hands up to separate her arse cheeks for me. It's fucking glorious. The purple gem from the base of the buttplug sparkles with the setting sun and I can't wait any longer.

Standing, I go around the table and grip the four corners of the large tablecloth, then I lift it, plates and glasses smashing as it all bunches together within the material, food and drinks immediately staining the cloth. I drop the pile against the wall of the cabin and step out of my boxers.

"Put your hands on the table, Kitten."

She eagerly does as she's told, the submissive side of her winning out with the promise of pleasure.

A growl immediately forms from the base of my throat as I stalk toward her and spank her peachy arse. The pink skin that appears makes my dick so fucking hard I can barely take it anymore.

"Spread your cheeks for me again, Kitten."

She rests her head on the table, arching her back, and her arse thrusts into my crotch. Holy shit…I have to mentally chastise myself for almost coming like a teenage boy.

That little purple gem sparkles up at me and I twist it, making her gasp and twitch. I need to compose myself a little because this delectable, fuckable arse is gonna be mine tonight, but I need a few minutes to calm my dick down.

Kneeling on the wooden balcony behind Ophelia, I grip her thighs and lick her pink slit. I slide one hand around to her clit and pinch at the same time as pushing my tongue inside her, and her mewls are like music to my fucking ears.

After a few minutes of feasting on her delicious pussy, her muscles tense, her legs begin to shake, and she cries out her orgasm when I pull out the buttplug at the same time.

"Oh fuck, Rhett."

"In a second, Kitten." I chuckle and stand, leaning over her and gripping her chin to kiss her. I make her taste herself, and she fucking loves it if the way she's pushing her arse against me is anything to go on.

As if it has a mind of its own, my dick penetrates her cunt and we both groan, like we've been waiting years for this moment, but I've had her mouth, I've had her pussy, now I want her arse.

The lube I brought out here earlier is by the door, so I slide out of her and turn to grab it, returning before she can protest at the loss or wonder too much what I'm doing. Sliding in and out of her pussy, I open the lube and drizzle it over her crack, loving how big her hole is after wearing the plug for most of the day. I push my thumb into her arse at the same time as I thrust my dick into her pussy and she shudders, moaning aloud and feeding my obsession for those sounds.

The vibrating ring I pushed onto my finger when I grabbed the lube is next. Pushing the button with my tongue, I turn it on, then bring my hand beneath her to press it against her clit.

"Oh shit!" She flinches at the sensation before settling with a purr of pleasure. Her walls squeeze my cock and I have to hold my breath to stop myself from joining her while she climaxes again.

She's panting now, but her arse is still high, her back still arched and giving a regal air about her. The irony that she has handed me the control to her body is not lost on me. I'm all too aware that in her world, she's the master of her every action, but here, she's acknowledging that I'm the master of her pleasure. Smart little Kitten.

Pulling out of her pussy, I rub some of the lube over my cock and make sure her hole is ready for me before thrusting inside her arse. She screams so loud that if there's anyone out on the lake, they definitely heard her.

"Oh, Kitten. You take. My dick. So. Well." My words come out in pants as I try to hold on for as long as I can, but it feels so fucking good.

I bring my hand around to her front again, the vibrating ring still buzzing lightly on my finger, and I press it against her nipple, pinching and squeezing before moving down to her clit again.

"Fuck, Rhett! Yes!"

Her enthusiasm only encourages me, and combined with the way her body trembles, it lets me know how much she's enjoying herself.

We both grunt and moan, gasping out profanities with every thrust until her cries get louder, more intense, and I can barely hold back anymore. But I need her to come one more time first.

"Let it go, baby." The order comes out as a low growl as she claws at the table beneath her and obeys like the good girl she is.

She screams out her orgasm and I rub it around her pussy just as I pull out of her arse and release all over her cheeks and back, decorating her skin with my cum. She looks so fucking beautiful, freshly fucked and covered in cum. It's a sight to remember.

Our breaths are heavy, we're both panting, and I lean down to kiss between her shoulder blades, stroking the sweaty strands of her hair away from her face. Her eyes are closed as she tries to breathe through the aftershocks. The sight makes me smile uncontrollably, but I shake it off.

It looks as though she'd happily fall asleep again, but I want to clean her first, freshen her up and make her feel good. Safe.

"Come on, Kitten." Encouraging her to stand, I bend and wrap my arm around her thighs, scooping her up over my shoulder and head inside towards the bathroom. She squeals in fake-protest, but it just makes me chuckle.

"What now?" She's whining, and it's cute as fuck, but I have an inkling as to why.

This much sex in such a short space of time can be brutal on her pussy, and my aim this weekend isn't to hurt her. This is all about her as much as it is for me.

"Stop being a brat." I spank her arse gently, then turn my head and bite her soft flesh when she wriggles in my hold.

Inside the bathroom, I carefully slide her down my front so she's standing by the floor-length mirror. It gives me the perfect view of every angle of her toned body, making it clearer to me that she works out and knows how to use it as a weapon.

"Did you have to bite my ass so hard?" She frowns and rubs at her arse cheek while I lean into the huge shower with a glass door and twist the nozzle. The wooden slats of the cabin walls surround us, giving the whole place a real homely feel that I could get used to. It's very different to the clinical surfaces I have decorating my rented home in Miami.

Although, I only moved there once I found Ophelia. My dad has no idea that she lives in Miami. I told him I just needed a change of scenery, while telling myself that being close to her would help me with my job. In reality, even when my cock is nestled inside her warm pussy, I'm still not close enough.

"Yes. And I'll do it more if you whine again." I wink, checking the temperature of the flowing water is hot enough before holding out my palm for her to take.

I can see her internally groan, her thoroughly used body wanting to protest, but she hides it well because it's so brief that if I didn't know her, I wouldn't notice.

"Kitten, I'm not gonna have sex with you. Let me take care of you."

She huffs a little, but takes my outstretched hand, allowing me to pull her against me before stepping us into the shower.

I set her beneath the hot spray and begin soaping up my hands with a lavender body wash I bought for whoever I won at the auction. The fact that it's Ophelia's favorite scent has nothing to do with anything…

"Wha—"

"Shh. Just let me look after you." If she speaks, she'll ruin my resolve and I'll have to fuck her into oblivion again, because I have no doubts that her smart mouth will demand a punishment only I can give her.

She frowns a little, but it quickly disappears the moment my hands make contact with her skin and she immediately relaxes. Her whole body seems to deflate as the tension seeps out of her with every stroke, every caress, and a sense of pride fills me knowing that she's being taken care of properly.

This shower isn't about sex or orgasms, it's about making her feel like the queen she is, showing her how much I like to look after my things. How I like to treasure them.

Next, I massage shampoo, then conditioner into her thick blonde hair, and the noises she makes have my dick twitching for attention. Her head falls back when I use the shower head to rinse the suds from her hair, and I enjoy the peace that being with her like this brings.

She's all sleepy when we're finished, so I take my time towel drying her before lifting her bridal-style and carrying her to the living room area. I don't bother to get either of us dressed, but I do grab a couple of the many blankets this place is equipped with and head out to the balcony.

I carefully lay one out over the large comfortable chair out here, because there's nothing worse than a cold arse, then I sit, with Ophelia still in my arms. She nestles into me like this is the most natural thing she's ever done, and I open up the other blanket, throwing it over her naked body and tucking her in on my lap.

The sun has fully set, and now it's like we have a completely different view out onto the lake with the way the moonlight reflects and shines off the water.

"If I fall asleep, it's not because I like this. I'm just tired," she grumbles into my chest, but there's no real malice behind it and I feel her sigh heavily. I chuckle, rubbing a hand gently up and down her arm as I cuddle her into me.

If it weren't such a big lie, I'd happily let her go.

Actually, that's a lie too.

There's no way I can let her go now.