A young kid, fourteen, ventured in here a few years back and was believed to have drowned and gotten pulled out to sea. According to reports, he might’ve hit his head, knocking him out long enough for the tide to take him away. Since then, it’s been made off limits to beach goers, and children, in particular. The cave sits on the edge of our property and the state-owned land beside us, so the family attempted to sue my father, but no one files a lawsuit against a Blackthorne and wins.
Jude and I typically hang out until the water reaches our calves, but leave before it becomes impossible to wade through. We once played chicken, the water rising as high as our chests before we were forced to climb out. With its rough and choppy waves that hammer against the rocks, if the sea doesn’t take you alive, it’ll surely take what’s left of you after your body’s been tossed around.
Splashing draws my attention toward the entrance, where two figures stand, and I drop my stick on seeing Jude has somehow manipulated the new maid into hanging out with us.
“Brought a friend, hope you don’t mind.” He guides her toward one of the boulders, the only permanent fixtures in the cave, and plops down on the dry sand at the opposite side of the bonfire. “Solange wanted to see the infamous Pirates Cove.”
I can’t take my eyes off the woman, the way her deep brown eyes and long, curly hair gives her an exotic lure. Her long slender neck and equally slender shoulders dip down to full breasts that, too heavy for such a small frame, strain against the thin fabric of her shirt. From here, I can see her nipples poking through, and my dick lurches at the sight.
“What do you estimate we’ve got? Two hours?” Reaching into his coat pocket, Jude pulls out one of the joints he scammed from Easton and, without wasting time, lights it up. The end crackles orange, and he puffs it twice, turning it around to suck in the smoke, before puffing it again and passing it to Solange. He runs his finger up and down her arm, shooting me a smirk through the flames. She takes one long drag and leans to the side, reaching around the small fire to pass it to me.
“I say we’ve got two hours, max.” Like Jude, I take a couple tugs of the joint, letting the smoke crackle in my lungs, and I close my eyes, tipping my head back on the exhale. While away at school, Jude and I would sneak down into the basement and get high, or wasted, all night. Sometimes it was weed, other times it was alcohol.
“So, what do you do before the tide comes in?” Her thick French accent carries a breathy quality, like a mid-thrust moan. Nothing like the girls I’ve messed around with, stealing away to cop a feel, or a quick fuck. Local girls can be fun sometimes, if I’ve got the time to charm them. Only problem is, they’re looking for a way out. A means to keep from becoming their mothers, and I’d rather run a nail through the head of my dick than make that kind of commitment.
“How ‘bout you take off that sweater, and we’ll show you.” Jude has always been ballsy when it comes to women. Kind of a prick, to be honest, but whether it’s because he’s wealthier than a prostitute in a submarine fleet, or more charming than the devil himself, they never seem bothered by it.
Solange smiles, and her gaze falls on me, for some reason. “Does the young Master wish to see my tits?”
Young Master. Fuck me.
Blowing the smoke off to the side, I give a small nod, catching sight of her nipples again. More prominent than even a minute ago. Without hesitation, she crosses her arms and lifts the sweater over her head, revealing braless tits that’re too big for my palms.
Licking his lips beside her, Jude cups one of her breasts and runs a thumb over her nipple.
Still, her eyes are on me.
“Feed it to me,” he says, before taking another hit of his joint.
Without hesitation, she leans in, lifting her breast just enough to slide her nipple into his mouth. Smoke curls from his nose as he exhales, tonguing her breast at the same time.
Things seem to progress quickly between them from there. Or maybe I’m just fucked up on weed, it’s hard to tell. It isn’t long before I’m watching her tits bounce as she rides him across from me.
A hard smack echoes through the cave as Jude slaps her ass. “I knew you were a whore. Dick gobbling slut.”
She seems to like this, her lips stretching with a smile. “Come, Young Master. Fuck me.”
The thought of my dick in close contact with Jude’s leaves me shaking my head, but it isn’t long before they finish, and Jude’s bellows of pleasure echoes through the cave. With his come likely dripping down her thighs, she crawls around the firepit toward me, like it’s my turn. As she buries her face in my neck, the scent of her perfume mingles with sex, and I set my hand on her shoulder, giving a small nudge to push her away. Her brows lower with telling disappointment, and she paws at me a second time.
Again, I push her away from me. “I don’t fuck seconds.”
Jude snorts, and Solange sits back on her heels, her naked body perfect, glowing in the dimming flame of the bonfire.
“I should’ve let you have me first, then,” she says, shoving two fingers up inside her. “I’ll just have to pretend.” Biting her lip, she tips her head back, fingers plunging in and out, and I watch as they shimmer on each withdrawal. Falling back onto her outstretched arm, she holds herself up, thrusting her pussy in my face, while she fingers herself.
I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to take her right now, but I meant what I said.
I don’t do sloppy seconds, no matter how hot she is, or how high I get.
Within minutes, she’s moaning, thrusting faster. Behind her, Jude lights up the second joint and smiles as he passes it to me. My dick is harder than the rock I’m leaning against just to keep myself upright, as I watch this chick go to town on her cunt, the wet sounds audible over the waves in the distance.
As I hit the joint, everything feels good, and when she cries out, I almost don’t recognize my name bouncing against the walls of the cave. “Lucian!”
Her fingers are soaking wet when she withdraws them again, and she leans forward, cramming them into my mouth. “This was for you. Next time, I’ll have you first.”
Chapter 6
Isadora
Present day …
I tap my fork against the plate, staring down at the fancy dinner I had the chef repeat the name of twice when he served it. Roasted chicken with fennel panza-something.
The long dining table could probably seat about two-dozen guests. It seems to go on forever, but here I sit by myself. Apparently, everyone, except Rand, Nell and Makaio, has already cleared out of here for the night. Even the chef who graciously served me had one foot out the door. The Blackthornes seem to like their privacy in the evening, too, but for whatever reason, they insist that I remain on castle grounds all five days of the week.
Not that I mind. It’s not every day a girl from Tempest Cove gets to sleep in a castle. I just thought it’d be a bit more bustling than this. That’s what I get for watching Annie too many times.
After Nell put Mrs. Blackthorne to bed earlier, there really wasn’t much for me to do, aside from sitting in that unsettling room full of dolls, until Nell suggested I go grab something to eat. Kinda depressing, really. Nell sat on her phone, smoking cigarettes out on the balcony most of the time, while Mrs. Blackthorne lay passed out all afternoon. Can’t say I’d have the energy to do much of anything, if that was my life.