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“What time is it?” I ask.
“I have no idea,” Cree says. “It’s still dark, but the rain seems to have finally stopped. I haven’t tried my phone yet.”
We separate just long enough for both of us to determine there is still no phone service and then curl back into each other’s arms.
“How high is the water?” I ask. I feel a familiar chill in my skin when I think about it. I’m tempted to go look over the edge, but if I actually see the water, I’m not sure I’d be able to ward off a panic attack.
“Not high enough to reach us,” Cree says simply. When I don’t respond, he asks, “Do you want me to check?”
I nod, and Cree moves to the edge of the rails to look over.
“It’s high,” he says, “but still several feet from up here.”
“So, we’re okay?”
“I’d say we are, yes.” Cree leans over the rail a bit, causing my heart rate to increase. “I’m impressed with the security lighting. I can still see the floor lights under the water, so they haven’t shorted out.”
“I guess that’s good.”
“It’s better than being in the dark.”
“True.”
“You should try to get more sleep,” Cree says as he comes back to sit beside me.
“I’m not sure I can.” I glance over at the railing, wondering if he might have lied to me just to keep me sane.
“If you stay awake, I’m going to fuck you again.”
All thoughts of rising water leave my head, replaced by the memory of his cock inside of me. I shiver.
“Is that supposed to be a deterrent?” I ask.
“Such a slut.” Cree grins mischievously. “Get those panties off and get on your knees.”
I scramble to comply, my heart already beating hard. Cree moves in behind me, and I hear the tear of the condom wrapper right before he reaches around and grabs the back of my neck, pushing my head to the floor.
“Spread those fucking legs,” he says harshly. “You’re going to get fucked hard, and you’re going to like it.”
I feel the tip of his cock between my legs, and a second later he’s inside me again. No teasing, no rope. He grunts as he pulls back and slams forward again, and I cry out.
Cree slows his pace and then stops. I feel empty as he pulls out of me and turns me around, laying me on my back. He hovers over me, reaches out, and lays his palm on the side of my face.
“If you want this to stop, just say ‘red.’”
“Red?”
“It’s one syllable and easy to remember.”
“Okay.” I frown a little. “Am I going to need it?”
“Maybe.” His expression is strange. I can’t identify the emotion behind it, but he definitely seems worried. “If you say ‘no’ or ‘stop,’ I’m going to keep going. If you say ‘red,’ I’ll stop immediately. No questions. You understand?”
“All right, Cree. I understand.”
“Do you?” The worried look is back.
“Yes.” I try to sound confident, but the look on his face has me concerned. I don’t understand why he’s stressing a safeword now when it hadn’t been an issue before.
