35. Stetson

THIRTY-FIVE

STETSON

May 31st, 2024

“I gotta pee.” I point toward the back of the tent where a blue port-a-potty sits next to the back side of a set of bleachers. Dale nods and turns to talk to someone standing next to her. I look up at Gus, pushing at his arm, but he flexes, keeping his bicep firmly in place across my collarbone.

“You coming to hold my hand in there?” I cock an eyebrow at him. He doesn’t smile and starts pushing us in the way of the bathroom.

“Only if you ask nicely.” His voice is gruff. I push again at his arm, only for him to squeeze tighter.

“Seriously? I don’t need you to come with me. I will be right back. We’re not close enough friends for this.” As I say the word ‘friends’, he huffs, his arm now pressed against my throat in a loose chokehold. We walk to the blue hut like this, and only when we get directly in front of it does he release his hold on me, slowly dropping his arm.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” He leans against a bar of the bleaches, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Narrowing my eyes on him, I hiss, “What are you doing?”

“Just keeping my not-date safe.”

“Protective, much?” I huff, slamming the flimsy door behind me.

“You have no idea.”

His words send a rush of desire to bolt through me, effectively burning through the last of my flimsy restraint.

When I step out of the bathroom, Gus is still standing in the same spot, his jaw shadowed in a thin layer of scruff, black curls swaying over his dark eyes. I don’t know what comes over me—I’ll blame it on the alcohol in the morning—but I walk up to him and run my fingers through the long curls, brushing them from his face. Touching him, being with him, no longer sounds like the worst thing in the world. We’ve gone all night without killing each other, even going as far as having fun, and I crave that. I crave it, with him.

His eyes watch my every movement, wide and hungry, and he sucks in shallow, small breaths. I watch, entranced, as my fingers glide through the midnight tresses, my fingers so pale in comparison—darkness swallowing the light. Just like everything else about Gus.

His fingers snap out, wrapping tightly around my wrist. “Don’t be touching me like that if you expect me not to kiss you.”

I smile shyly, then lift my eyes to meet his. The memory of his kiss on me boils my blood, making my fears and frustrations scuttle into the darkest recess of my mind. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

The words are barely whispered past my lips before he’s crushing his mouth against mine. I moan into his savage assault, my fingers tightening in the curls to pull his face closer. I want to swallow him, devour him for myself. I bite at his lips, tugging and pulling them between my teeth until the taste of copper blooms between us, and he groans, spurring me further into my dark spiral.

I’m completely out of control, and God, I love it.

Gus is not an anchor in the raging hurricane of my emotions. He’s not a shelter against the fire burning through my defenses. He is a tornado, crashing into my own, spiraling and twisting together, chasing and funneling into one. We are the same dark energy, swallowing the other until we don’t know where one ends and the other begins.

I want to be consumed by him as badly as I want to consume him.

I don’t know when we shifted, but my legs now press around his waist, my back pinned against the pole he was leaning against. I’m panting, and have the faint realization we could be spotted if someone were to only come farther into the darkness provided by the bleachers. I push lightly at his chest, not really wanting this to end, but afraid of getting caught. He growls, biting hard on my lip, his hand pressed around the side of my neck.

“Let them fucking watch.” He rumbles the words into my mouth, and I groan.

“I don’t want to do this. Not here.”

He laughs, but it’s anything but friendly. “I bet if I reached between your legs right now, I could show you just how much of a liar you are.”

Three beers never used to be enough for me to even get a buzz. But tonight, it’s proving to be just the right amount for me to lose all morals and inhibitions. I stare into his eyes, our breaths mingling in the space between us; I reach slowly between us, shifting to undo my jeans’ button and reach a single finger to swipe through the arousal pooling there. I lift it between us, my finger glistening with the evidence of just how right he is.

“Oops,” I whisper.

Gus stares at the cum-slicked finger hovering between our faces, and then slowly leans forward, sucking into his mouth. His tongue runs the length of my finger, his cheeks hollowing out at his suctions. I gasp, not realizing I had been holding my breath—the combination of his hot mouth and my lack of oxygen making me borderline dizzy.

Too soon, my finger pops free of his mouth, and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering. “Stetson, you taste so fucking good.” I whine like a bitch in heat , and he chuckles in the face of my spiraling desperation. “Do you want me?”

I rock my hips against where he pins me with his body, hoping that’s answer enough. I’m too afraid of what else I will say if I open my mouth now.

He clucks his tongue, rubbing his forehead against mine. “You’ll have to say it. You’ll have to be sure you want it, because if I start, I won’t fucking stop.” Air saws in and out of my lungs. I’ve never wanted something so badly in my life.

“Yes,” I whisper, terrified to keep looking into his eyes, but too desperate to look away.

“Say it.”

“Say what?” I writhe against him again, and a hand bites into my hip.

“Say it, Stetson.”

Caving, because if I don’t I will surely die, I stare into his eyes, whispering the words that will no doubt be the beginning of the end for me. “I want you, Augustus Dobbs.”

A savage grin sweeps across his face, the whites of his teeth snapping in the darkness, and then his hands are on me, rough and merciless. He doesn’t waste time taking off my bra, he only lifts my shirt and pulls down the cups, exposing my nipples to his harsh onslaught. He stares at them for only a second, his thumb tracing over the dusty pink tip, and then he folds over, sucking the sensitive bud into his punishing mouth with a tug. I cry out and then slap a hand over my mouth to try to smother the noises I’m failing to suppress. He sucks on my nipple like I’m his lifeline, and I fist a handful of his curls like he is mine. I rock my hips back and forth, needing more.

“So fucking greedy,” he whispers around my swollen nipple, tugging on it once more, the tip pinched painfully between his teeth, before releasing it with a pop. “What else do you want, Stetson?”

I’m panting, bordering on hysterical—I’ve never been so turned on in my life, and all he’s done is suck my fucking nipple. What do I want?

Everything, anything.

“Please make me come.” I quiver as he traces a calloused finger down the column of my throat, between the crevice of my breasts, to the dip of my soft belly button, before finally hooking it in the waist of my jeans.

He tugs on them, looking back up at me with a smirk.“Got a little too much clothes on for that. Pull them down, show me that tight little pussy. Show me how much you want me, Little Filly.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, doesn’t have to wait one second to wonder if I will reject him like I have before. Instead, I push lightly at his chest, and he lets my legs drop, stepping back only enough that I can fit a hand between us.

Shoving my pants down over the globes of my ass to my knees, I look up at him coyly. “Like this?”

“Hmmm.” He rubs his thumb over the front of my pink panties—stained with my arousal—pressing harder when he finds my clit. “Close.” And then he drops to his knees.

The monster bowing before his dark queen.

Which is exactly how he makes me feel, kneeling before me in the dirt, his hair tousled, eyes hungry and black. He is the Devil, and he looks at me like I am the most precious thing he has ever seen.

With a snap of his hands, he pries my thighs apart, baring my pussy separated only by a piece of thin pink fabric. His nostrils flare, his breathing slowing to a tortuously glacial pace.

I squirm, suddenly feeling self-conscious from his very intimate and, no doubt, very expert gaze. “What?”

His dark eyes sear into mine, his arms trembling. “I will not be gentle or kind. I’ve waited too fucking long. I am a monster, a villian—I take what I want and revel in your fear and pain. It’s best you don’t forget that.” His tongue sweeps angrily along his bottom lip before he draws it between his teeth in concentration. Dark brows pulled low over his eyes, he shifts his hips—never releasing his grip on my thighs.

Not waiting for me to respond—which is good, because I’m incapable of uttering a single word at this point—he grips the side of my panties. Without breaking eye contact with my center, he sucks in a single breath and rips the fabric with a harsh pinch against my skin, leaving me completely exposed.

The heat of embarrassment and nerves course through me, mixing with the heady wave of arousal—What if we are caught? What if someone sees him between my legs?

There has never been a more erotic image in my life.

I want them to see him bowing to me.

Me—the trauma-ridden, broken, and abused girl, addicted to adrenaline and sex, used up and filthy in the eyes of the world. His eyes on me, his hands on my body, are better than any drug—I feel invincible.

“Beg.”

My eyes snap to his, which now scour my face, his arms full-on shaking with his need.

“Wh-what?” I stammer. He can’t be serious.

He growls, shifting his body, his breath now warm and blowing across my aching pussy.

“Beg, Little Filly. Beg me to tongue fuck you, to make you come. Beg me to break you.” His voice is a deep growl, and we both know I’ve lost all power here. I want his face buried in my pussy so deep that he drowns in it, and will do anything to make it happen. At this moment, I need him worse than I need oxygen, and he knows it.

“Please,” I whisper hoarsely. Gus continues to hover there, his molten eyes staring straight into my soul. “Please, I need you, Gus.”

He snaps, the words a knife through any remaining hesitation, his mouth covering my throbbing clit. He’s a beast, crazed with bloodlust, and I’m the helpless prey. His mouth devours me, his teeth first tugging my soft lips into his mouth, where he sucks and licks with the hunger of a dying man. I watch his head bob back and forth as he attempts to consume my entire pussy, sucking and pulling as much of me into his mouth as he can hold.

I cry out, forgetting my surroundings and the people only feet from us outside of these shadows, and Gus stills, growling against my aching, wet core. Before I can process, Gus stands up and I go to cry out again, my mouth open to protest him stopping, when he shoves my cream-covered panties in. He slaps a hand over my mouth and nose, and I stare into his rage-filled eyes, trying and failing to get oxygen.

“So help me God, Stetson. If you alert anyone and ruin this for me, you will wish you had never agreed to let me put my hands on you. Do you understand?” I continue to stare, caught between being terrified and delirious with pent-up need. “Nod and show me you’re a good girl.”

I nod quickly, desperate for him to continue, desperate for his praise .

Dropping to his knees with a thud, he pushes my thighs apart once more, taking a slow lick across my dripping cunt. I quiver, biting into the fabric in my mouth to keep from crying out again. “Mmm, fuck!” he grinds out, his tongue flat as he licks me from the crease of my ass to the top of my clit. “So.” Lick. “Fucking.” Lick. “Good.” Lick.

I whine, my eyes clamped so tightly closed that stars start dancing precariously in the darkness. I’m so far gone, so at his mercy, that there is nothing I won’t do to keep his tongue on me.

He runs a finger slowly along the seam of my pussy lips, his calluses rough against my soft flesh, sending sparks skittering across my skin. He reaches my center, running that finger in a tight circle before pushing inside with a sharp shove. Withdrawing slowly, then adding a second finger, he shoves in again. The intrusion is rough, and unrelenting, similar to our first kiss—there’s pain deliciously mixing with the pleasure as he stretches me.

He pumps his fingers inside me at a wicked pace, filling me just enough to make me ache for more. As he strokes his fingers, his tongue laps at my clit, the small bundle of nerves exploding with lightning bolts of sensation. He sucks and licks the bud, bordering on pain.

It feels so good it hurts.

The base of my spine begins to tingle, the beginning of an orgasm forming, and I chase after it, desperate to come down from the cliff he is edging me to jump over.

Right as I’m nearing that fiery pinnacle, my stomach and legs trembling, he pulls both his fingers and lips away.

My eyes fly open, crying out around the fabric in my mouth, and stare down at him. He looks up to me, his eyes glittering— he is a monster —his torture is intentional and savage.

“Please,” I mumble around the fabric.

He drags a lazy finger through my folds once more before he speaks. “You’re so close, Little Filly. But let me ask you, when you come for me, will you be broken? Will you be mine?” His hoarse voice rolls across my skin like gravel. I nod frantically—anything to get his mouth back on me. Doesn’t matter that I just signed my soul away to the Devil; I’d do it over and over again to have him like this.

“Look at me when I make you come, Stetson.” I look back down at him, my arousal glistening in the stubble covering his jaw, bordering on enough to make me come without another touch.

“Do you want to come?” he asks, violence lacing his words. I’m about to spit out the panties in my mouth and demand he finish what he started when he chuckles, the sound sending goosebumps skittering over my skin. Then, lowering his head, his eyes never leaving mine, he uses one hand to spread my pussy lips, the other pushing inside of me slowly. His tongue flattens, running it up through my spread lips once more. I’m panting, chest heaving, fighting every cell in my body to keep my eyes open and on him. I don’t want to miss a second of this, of him on my knees making me come.

I feel dirty and depraved, and yet never more free or alive. I’ve always seen sex as a thing to do in the dark, in the privacy of a locked door, in the night. But Gus is shattering every single one of those realities as his tongue plunges into me like a spear. I don’t want those things anymore—I want to see the dark demon kneeling between my legs, in the light of day, because I am his, and he doesn’t care who sees.

“Do you hate me now?” he questions, lapping at my pussy again.

Staring at his face, the spit and cum clinging to his chin, I want to fall to my knees and kiss him, claim him back.

“I asked you a fucking question. Do you hate me now?”

I glare down at him, my eyes filled with more hate than I’ve ever felt in my life.

Hate for myself and everyone who has ever gotten between me and this moment—this man—himself included. How long have I been robbed of his touch? How long have the shadows hid his true face?

I don’t know how or why I got here, but there’s no turning back. There’s no other ending for me than with him. He is it—he just has to stop hiding.

“Yes,” I hiss around the panties. He smiles wickedly at me. I’m terrified of the monster between my thighs—terrified he will stop and leave me more empty than I’ve ever felt—terrified of his power over me.

“What have I said about lying?” he growls. I open my mouth to mumble something, anything, but then his ruthless fingers slam into my pussy, causing my eyes to roll back into my skull. He sucks my clit between his lips, rolling the bundle, and I scream, the sound barely muffled.

I don’t care, let them fucking hear me.

His fingers sink into me, faster and harder with each thrust, the motion causing wet, sloppy noises to fill the shadowy space around us. It’s filthy and lewd; maybe tomorrow I’ll feel embarrassed.

But right now? I will die if he stops.

His body quivers with the effort of his attack, his teeth barred in an angry snarl, his dark curls swaying with each pump of his arm.

“Come, Little Filly. Break for me.”

It’s all I hear before the orgasm rips through me, shattering my body, mind, and soul. I fall and fall, stars erupting behind my eyelids, dancing and exploding in time to my pulsing pussy. It is the most violent orgasm I’ve ever had, all-consuming, like the monster between my legs.

As I come down from the brutal high, Gus continues to lap at my clit, humming in approval, sending another shorter, softer orgasm rippling through my body.

“Fuck, you’re such a good, dirty girl.” My pussy milks at his fingers, and I feel barely satiated. I want him buried so far inside of me it rips me in two, so full that I’ll never be totally empty again. Panting, my legs quivering, my body covered in a layer of sweat, I open my eyes. Gus stares up at me, his shoulders heaving, face covered in my surrender. It is the most euphoric sight I’ve ever seen, causing my heart to pinch painfully.

What have I done? The better question is, what will I do to do it again?

Someone clears their throat, and I yelp. Gus, standing in a fluid motion, covers my body with his own.

“Sorry guys. I just… I have to pee now.” Dale’s voice is full of teasing, and I sag in relief—it’s only Dale. She closes the porta-potty door. “So hot, though. ‘Bout fucking time.”

I giggle and look up at Gus’s face, his eyes devouring mine. I can see the yearning and hunger there, and for the first time, it doesn’t scare me. I want this monster, and he wants me. Holding my breath, I continue to stare, unable to pull myself away.

And it’s that realization that has me finally accepting that I know I will do anything, anything, to do it again.

Starting with showing the monster I’m not afraid of what lies beneath the mask.

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