Page 92 of Cruelest Contract
Someday I’ll get her pregnant. Can’t fucking wait. The very idea threatens to pitch me into oblivion. I’m ready anytime she is.
“Julian,” she gasps, her hips bucking as a deep shudder starts to wreck her from the inside. “I’m almost there.”
Another click from the gun. This is risky. I’m getting too close. Gently, I take the gun out of her hands because if this keeps up I’ll fucking explode.
The gun is tossed aside and I sit up, pushing her hair aside to kiss her as she comes. She clings to my neck while the tremors consume her.
By some miracle, I hold out until she’s finished getting completely unraveled. Then I finally pull out and release all over my discarded t-shirt. Quite the fucking mess and I’m spent as hell.
“Oh fuck,” I groan and flop down on my back.
OH FUCK!my mind screams a split second later.
I bolt upright and Cecilia is alarmed. She covers her breasts with her hands and sits up.
“What’s wrong?” She wildly looks around. “Is someone here?”
“No.” I hastily pull her dress straps up and help her smooth out the skirt portion. Only when she’s completely covered do I worry about putting my pants back on and tucking my dick inside.
“Then what is it?” She crosses her arms over her chest with worry while I scramble for my phone.
“Cameras, honey,” I say and rapidly scroll through my phone to find the security system app.
“Where?”
“Trust me, they’re around. Security cameras capture every exterior vantage point from the cabin.”
Her expression turns pained with embarrassment and I want to punch myself in the head for failing to remember that we’re under surveillance out here. The odds that anyone is watching the live feed from the cabin’s rear cameras at this very moment are extremely low but not zero. A few minutes of navigating around on the app is all it takes to locate the recorded footage and permanently delete it.
“It’s gone,” I say. “I deleted all the footage.”
“Okay.” She exhales but she’s still unsettled. The flower has fallen from her hair and she carefully picks up the crumpled remains from the blanket. “Can we go inside now?”
I’m already packing up. Everything gets tossed into the picnic basket. Food, gun, bullets, cum-soaked shirt, etc.
I help Cecilia to her feet and then shake the grass out of the blanket.
“I’m so damn sorry,” I say to her on the short walk back to the house. “I should have remembered the cameras.”
“It’s okay.” She squeezes my waist. “You can’t be expected to keep track of everything, you know.”
Yes, I can. But Cecilia smiles and tips her face up, expecting a kiss. She can have one anytime she wants.
Late in the afternoon, Sonny shoots me a text to say he’s on his way with food from the kitchen. It’s strange that he’s the one ferrying it over since there are a dozen lower ranking staff members who can handle the task. I take this to mean he’s got something he wants to say.
For the last half hour, Cecilia has been relaxing out on the balcony and writing in her journal. I stick my head out there to let her know I’ll be right back and discover she’s on the phone.
Cecilia waves with a giggle. “Alice says hi.”
“Hello, Alice,” I say back.
Cecilia listens to Alice’s reply and rolls her eyes. “Be nice to my husband,” she says to her best friend.
I walk away with a smile on my face. I sincerely enjoy hearing those words from her.
But the smile fades as I walk outside and down the path about twenty yards. I want to be far enough away that Cecilia can’t hear whatever Sonny plans to tell me.
Sonny hates pickup trucks so he’s driving one of the Range Rovers when he rolls up alone. The passenger window is open and there’s a box filled with carefully packed food containers on the seat beside him.
