Chapter 12
Roman
“Roman! How did you have all this done right under my nose?”
And somehow get it all put back together, better than before.
And hopefully, already knocked up my new wife.
I grin, barely able to believe the craziness. “It’s been in progress for a while, Kicker.”
Emily twirls around the center of the converted old barn I’ve been secretly working on for a year. It still has that familiar scent of a barn, but with a new sweetness from the fresh walls and finish I’ve constructed inside.
It’s wide open in the center, doors to bedrooms and other things along two walls, with a massive balcony up high where we can sit, dream, and, of course, fuck.
I honestly don’t know how I got so much done here in the past year, because I’m stuck to her like glue most of the time.
But there were times when she was with her family, or her and Carrie having a spa day or some shit, or she was with her trainer.
I don’t know. I squeezed in the work to make sure that when and if our wedding happened, I had a place to bring her home to that was ours.
“Bank account says you can pick out whatever place you want, but for now, this is us. This is ours.”
“I always loved this barn. There’s something about the rough beams, you know?
Took a person God knows how long to create by hand.
Then they become this—” She spins, the platinum toes on her white boots catching the light coming through the windows all around the worn wooden space.
“A place that gave shelter to animals and a quiet place for someone to make decisions. And now, a place for me to hop on my cowboy and ride!”
The barn is on the very back of my parents’ property. Leah always said she loved that it was broken, but still standing, and wouldn’t let Allister tear it down.
I think she knew it was a representation of both of us, and knew someday I’d make it my home. She knows me, and I’m more grateful every day for my family.
Emily gets a running start, her hand on her head, holding onto her hat as she runs my way, launching herself into my chest.
With a bold laugh, I catch my wife, spinning in a circle before marching her to a back room that used to house tack and tools, but now is going to be for something else.
Something far more entertaining.
“What is this?” Emily chirps as I guide us through the door and latch it closed behind, setting her down on her boots as her head swivels, taking in the large bedroom space.
But it’s a bit more than that.
“No one will hear us, no matter what we do,” I announce, my dick already hard as deviant fantasies cascade around in my head. “You’re mine now to do with as I please, remember?”
“Uh huh.” She throws me a squinting look. “What’s all this? Horse tack in the bedroom?”
I whitewashed all the wood in here. Walls and ceiling. At the center is an enormous king-sized bed, with four old barn beams as posts, eye hooks, and ropes hanging from each.
The comforter is a Navajo blanket pattern in red, orange, and black, along with about a thousand of Emily’s favorite cruelty-free down pillows, because that girl likes softness when she sleeps.
But what she’s going to get from now on is something hard.
My heart feels settled for the first time in as far back as memories go. I told her I’d take care of her, and I will. No matter what it takes.
“What’s this?” she teases, grabbing a silver ringed bit from a hook on the far wall. The midday sun cuts through the dusty air and across her pink tank top, her nipples already poking out, telling me my girl is going to be as filthy as I need her to be.
“That?”
I reach up for my hat, setting it on one of the dressers along one wall, then strip off my white t-shirt and drop it to the wooden floor. I close the space between us and grab the rubber horse bit from her with one hand, then gather a set of black leather reins to go with it.
Then I take her by the back of the neck and put her at the foot of the bed, facing me.
“Strip, lil Kicker.”
When she opens her mouth to talk back, I shove the rubber shank of the bit inside and snap the black leather around the back of her head.
“Mares don’t talk. They take what they’re given. That pregnancy test is coming up with two pink lines if I have to empty my balls inside you for the next week, every hour on the hour. We’re not leaving here until you’re good and knocked up.”
She flashes me a smile from around the horse bit with a roll of her eyes, but she does as I say. Her tank is first, then bra, and God, those tits. That sight will never get old.
Within two minutes, we are both in our birthday suits, and I’ve got her right where I want her, centered on the special little bench I designed just for this.
“Breeding bitch,” I say, running my knuckles down the indent of her spine. “Sorry, baby, breeding bench, I mean.”
She snorts around the bit as I work the reins onto the rings.
I strap the other leathers around her waist, the tops of her thighs, and her throat, then connect them all to the rings and latches on the red leather padded bench, positioning her on all fours, ass up, head in a wooden neck brace, completely immobilized.
“Where’s that photographer when I need him?” I come around to the front, admiring my wife strapped and racked and ready for whatever I want to do. “I held back so much for so long, baby. You know you signed up for life with me, right? No backs.”
She gurgles something unintelligible as drool falls from the corners of her lips, and I fist the base of my cock before slapping it down on her nose. “Too bad your mouth is full. A nice wifey face fuck right now would be great. But breeding is more important.”
I come around behind her, my cock already dripping as my balls throb.
I don’t know how many times we’ve fucked at this point.
I’ve already lost count in the two days since we’ve been married.
In the bathroom attached to the bedroom, I’ve got a box of ten pregnancy tests just waiting.
I want her to pee on a stick every morning until it comes up pink, and I’m going to have the best time playing out all our fantasies to make sure it happens.
I can’t keep my hands off my wife. Her body is a canvas of my teeth, fingers, and riding crops, and she takes it all. Sometimes with some cursing, a little fight, and every day gets better. I can’t wait to see how drunk we are on each other in ten years.
Fifty.
Eighty.
Whatever the lord gives us, I’m ready.
I wiggle her clit and smile when she shakes and tries to fight against the straps, but gets nowhere.
“Ticklish?” I ask, as I strum her little button and see the flush creep over her creamy flesh. Her magnificent tits sway and hang down on either side of the center of the bench, just like I planned. “Let’s see if this mare is ready for breeding…”
I slide my fingers down, and, without ceremony, deliver two of them into her slopping entrance, her body flexing as she sucks air around the bit in her mouth.
“Ahhh, wet, warm… I think you’re ready. Daddy likes fucking his little mare all tied down and helpless.”
I lower my face and lap at her sweetness, licking her until she tenses. Then I find her tight little back hole and guide one slick finger inside.
That sets her off.
“My wife is an ass slut, huh? Soon, baby. As soon as you’re bred like a good girl, you’ll get Daddy’s cock in your ass, but not until. All my seed is only going inside you raw and hot until it roots.”
All those years of denial have come out of me in darkness and light. I dream of making love to her with slow kisses and deep strokes, but then, there is also this…
All the twisted needs inside me.
That she indulges them only makes her more precious to me.
More beautiful.
I reach to the wall and grab one of my silver star spurs, the pointed wheel on the back cleaned and ready for what’s coming.
I notch my cock at her entrance, gathering up the reins attached to the bit rings, and wrap them around my left hand.
Then I tug.
Emily’s voice is reduced to a gurgle, her head strapped in as securely as her body, her head whipping back and forth an inch in each direction, the only movement her predicament allows.
“God, I love having your sweet flavor on my tongue when I fuck you like a dirty little mare. Makes Daddy remember all those days when he ate your pussy instead of fucking you like you needed.”
I slam my cock inside while running the spikes of the spur up the line of her spine, her body seizing as I hold the reins tight and use her soft, sweet, pliable body as my own little fuck toy.
“God, how does your pussy feel better every time?” I grind my teeth together, already on the edge of an orgasm as I swallow down the saliva gathering under my tongue.
I buck my hips, giving her the full length and girth, forward and back, her supple body barely moving in the straps that immobilize her as her tight canal clenches around me.
She’s moaning, and the mirror in front of the bench gives me a view of my wife’s gorgeous face. Her eyes roll back, her little fingers curling around the padding of the bench as she holds on and takes what she’s given.
“Dirty mares get fucked all tied down. You’re gonna stay on the breeding bench all fucking night. I’ll feed you, give you water from a bucket, and if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you clean my cock up after I fuck you.”
Her mind is as dirty as mine. She’s whispered a few of her fantasies into my ear in the last two days that have turned my own cheeks pink, so I know she’s down for getting her pussy filled like livestock.
I thrust harder, picking the spur up from her back and bringing it down onto her hip, just hard enough for the spikes to bite into the round flesh of her ass.
God, her body has learned my cock so well already. She fits like a custom glove around me, and every time I get inside her, it’s like my soul comes to life. Her body is mine and will only know one cock, so I plan to give it to her hard and proper until I suck my last breath on this earth.
I give her my thick dick, in and out, in and out, as a storm kicks up outside, rain pattering on the steel roof, filling the space with white noise as I go harder, deeper, the straps and links straining and clicking. I go at it hard, my mouth open, the spur popping on her hip over and over.
“Come on, Kicker. Make Daddy come like a good girl.”
She spasms around me, and she’s close. Her pussy is working me, root to tip, tugging and begging for the hot prize I’m holding back.
She twists and starts to convulse in the restraints, and I drop the reins and the spur, owning her hips with rough fingers now, slapping our flesh together until we both fall over the cliff.
“Here’s your prize, baby. You did so good. So, so good. You make your cowboy so proud.”
My warm release fills her womb, spilling out from her opening as I fuck her through her orgasm and into another.
Her insides squeeze my cock, dragging everything I have for her from my balls until we are both shaking and I’ve roared until my voice is hoarse.
Time seems to slow, my balls aching, my cock still buried inside her as I blanket her shaking body with mine.
“I love you, so fucking much.” Even like this, strapped and drooling, she’s the most beautiful, most important thing in my life.
I work the straps off, the bit falling from her stretched lips as I bring my cock to her mouth, the sturdy bench supporting her quivering body.
She smiles, her blue eyes lighting up as thunder rolls over the roof of the barn, shaking the windows just as she shakes me down to my marrow. “I loved that. So, when do I get to strap you to the bench?”
I answer her by shoving my cock between her lips and down her throat.
“Not likely gonna happen, baby. Clean Daddy up.” I run my knuckles along her jaw as her cheeks hollow. “We have a future to plan.”
She gags and chokes, but her eyes are on mine.
Smiling.
I love this little hellcat. The life I always wanted is here, and I’m never letting it, or her, go.