“And Isaac.”
My throat goes tighter because we both know that this is okay. Isaac can see. Isaac can touch. I push her forward, onto her hands and knees and pull the thong off her, not ripping it because I like it.
“This is how I wanted to fuck you.” I tap my cock against her ass. “Hard. All the times I got myself off thinking about coming inside you.”
“Do it.” Her voice crackles.
I don’t speak back. My cock pushes into her hard and furious, my hands holding her hips and we both look into the mirror facing us, seeing our lust drenched eyes and her tits bouncing as I thrust. I pull on her hair and push a finger in her ass, getting her ready because I want her there later and all the time we’ll both be thinking of each other and Isaac.
He’d want to be watching.
We both want more.
* * *
She’s not in bed when I wake. The sheets next to me are cold and there’s a moment where I wonder if I dreamed what happened last night. I sit up, something not feeling right, as if the molecules in the air have been displaced and not been allowed to settle because they’re waiting for something else.
The room feels too cool, the flooring hard beneath my feet. I pull sweats and a hoodie on and find my beat up trainers that I still run in some days. I don’t like the fact she isn’t here.
I start with her suite, but there’s no sign she’s been back since she came to my room last night. The kitchen is empty apart from the chef who hasn’t seen her and her parents’ quarters are equally desolate of her, everyone still asleep.
I head back to my room in case she’s returned there and that’s when I see my drawer’s been opened and I’m missing a pair of sweat pants and a old sweater. The weather is grey; skies that have forgotten blue or anything else other than shades in between white and black. The loch is choppy and temperamental, my gut telling me that’s where I need to head.
The distance between the door closest to the banks and the jetty is eight tenths of a mile and I can run it in about four minutes, just over. I don’t notice the slight turn of my ankle as I hit a stone on the path and I don’t care about the fox I startle as I pass him on his early morning forage.
I stop at the end of the jetty, the boards slippy and damp. To the north, in the middle of the loch, is a boat, one of the simple wooden boats used for rowing in the summer. The silhouette of someone is visible, the light not strong enough for me to make out who, but I’m pretty sure it’s Blair.
I don’t think. There are no other boats available for me to take quickly and something inside me is uncertain and afraid. I’m never afraid.
My hoodie discarded on the jetty, trainers kicked off, I jump into the waters, bracing myself for a cold wake up call. I’ve swam in worse and it only takes seconds before I’ve adjusted and I’m swimming towards the vessel.
The water splashes. I go under, swimming quickly, wanting to get there as soon as I can then I can check Blair’s okay and jump in the boat with her.
When I come up for air, I see her eyes loaded with questions and then hear a laugh.
“What the fuck are you doing in the loch in October?”
I pull myself into the boat. “What the fuck are you doing in a boat on the loch at this time in the morning?”
The boat rocks under my weight as I sit down, facing her.
“I needed to think.”
“A note would’ve helped.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think. Guess that will have to stop.”
I understand her words.
“I’ve decided.”
My woman is strong. Tough. I see steel in her beauty.
“Promise me things between us won’t change.”
“Won’t change when?”
“When my father dies and I take the crown.”
