40. Augustus
FORTY
AUGUSTUS
June 7th, 2024
I stare at Stetson, her hurled words hitting their mark. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, and I want to pull on her quickly unraveling composure—I want to see the woman beneath it all, the woman who is even braver than I’ve given her credit for.
I’m caught off balance. There’s no other way to describe my spiraling, uncontrollable emotions.
She knew, and she wants me, anyway. Why did I ever question that?
“You knew,” I whisper, trying to put together the last few pieces of the puzzle, wrapping my mind around the world where the woman I am obsessed with is darker than I realize—fuck! I do not deserve her.
But I will have her anyway. Forever. Even if it damns me.
In the darkness, I can barely make out her features, but I do see her shift, no doubt cocking that hip and rolling her eyes in the bratty way she does.
“If I say yes, will you stop being a little bitch and fuck me?” Her tone is venomous, filled with so much unrestrained anger. Anger I’m realizing is because of my own cowardice. She’s not the scared filly she portrays herself to be, but a bloodthirsty mare, protecting what she values most—her demons. As dark and deprived as they may be, they are what make her who she is. And even if she doesn’t always love that about herself, she isn’t afraid of them either. She sees her strength in them, the way I do. I was just too blind to see it.
“You really are perfect. A brat, but so fucking perfect. Do you want me, Little Filly?”
She sneers at me, her teeth snapping in the darkness, and I feel ready to explode. “Do you want to fuck me, Gus?”
The fact that she has to even ask only proves what I’ve just realized—I messed this up, not permanently, but enough to piss her off. And fuck, I will gladly spend eternity making it up to her—proving to her I know her, and love every bit of her tattered edges and broken pieces. Not with softness or kindness, but with obsession, with passion, with possession.
“Give me your monsters, your beasts. Give me you, Gus .”
It’s the last tether on “before and after”, snapping like a weighted cord over a mountain ravine. I have no idea what waits for us at the bottom, but I no longer care. I prowl toward her, my hand snapping through the darkness and wrapping around her throat. She doesn’t need softness from me—she needs to feel the burn on her skin to match the fire in her heart. She needs an equal—a monster to encourage her own to leave their cages—and I’ve never been more ready to oblige her. “Here I was trying to make things better, to explain my love to you, and you want to act like this? To throw my words back in my face like a brat?”
My arm shakes with the need to squeeze her throat, but I refrain, knowing not to push it in that particular area. I never want to hurt her the way Gibson did—only replace those memories with ones of me, of us .
And then she steps toward me, pressing her throat tighter against my grip, flashing her teeth. I have never seen her this angry, this unhinged, and I’ve never wanted her more. “I’m tired of being the girl who hides in the shadows, who’s loved by a shadow, who lives a shadow of the life I deserve. I want it all, I want all of you. I’m so fucking tired of waiting.”
I stare at her, my breath lodged in my throat—where did she come from? Where has she been hiding this version of herself? “Cut me, Gus, burn me, break me, but you have to make me feel it. I’m so fucked up, and now you finally see it. I have to be fucked. I have to be connected. I have to feel this,” she points between us, her voice a shrill sound echoing through the silence of the barn, “or I am going to shrivel up into nothing. I will suffocate completely.”
Fuck, yes.
“Look at me, Stetson.” I release her neck, only to slide my hand roughly to grip her jaw. Even in the darkness, I can see the frantic look in her eyes—the only one I need to see. She’s terrified of this, but more terrified that I will leave. And so she’s jumping, in full free-fall, waiting for me to catch her.
“Nothing, and I mean nothing, could scare me away from you. I have seen everything, and not even running could stop me from chasing you. You are everything good and decent in my world, despite every horrible, fucked up thing that has happened to you.” Our skin feels like it is on fire where I grip her. “You want to get fucked? You need to feel pain to remember where your body starts and ends? Good. You have no idea how much you were fucking made for me.”
Yanking her face toward my own, I take her mouth in a vicious kiss, swallowing her cries as she clings to my shirt with balled fists. I pull her through the stall door and slam her soft, full body against the nearest beam, pinning her hands over her head.
“I want you so bad, I might die if you don’t take me right now.” She whispers the words across my lips, and I groan, biting and nipping at her swollen lips.
“Were you going to run from me tonight?”
She shivers, and then hesitantly nods, her confirmation sending a bolt of rage through me. “To teach you a lesson.”
“The only lesson I learned, Little Filly, is you need to be taught what happens when you run from me. Do. Not. Move.” Biting out each word, I pinch her wrists, emphasizing what I expect of her, and then step away. I watch her for several seconds, her chest heaving, and hair already wild around her face. But she doesn’t move a muscle.
I find what I’m looking for and walk back to Stetson, both happy and a little disappointed that she hasn’t moved. I really would like to punish her, but there will be a lifetime to do that.
“Tell me you want me, Stetson. I want to hear you say it.”
She eyes the rope in my hands and shivers.
And then she fucking licks her lips. “I want you, Augustus Dobbs, worse than I want to fucking breathe.”
Tying a figure eight with the rope, I loop it around her extended hands and then around the pole above her head. She pulls on her restraints a little, and then hisses, halting. I smile wickedly.
“Tight enough for you, baby?”
“It hurts.” But it’s not fear or even true pain lacing her words—it’s drunk pleasure.
“Good.”
And then I pounce, pulling the button on her jeans and yanking them roughly down her hips. I don’t waste time pulling her panties down with them. Instead, I grip the string on the side, ripping them from her skin as I have before. Leaning into her face, I place a gentle kiss on her open lips. “I’m sorry if you like this shirt.” And then I grip the neckline and rip the fabric, not bothering to pull it from her body, and it hangs jaggedly over her shoulders. I tut. “No bra? You dirty fucking slut.”
She whimpers, and I rub my cock through the seam of my jeans.
“You look so beautiful like this, baby—all tied up, waiting to take my cock.”
“Fuck, Gus, please.” She writhes her head against the pole.
Her words are my undoing. I pull my t-shirt over my head, step out of my boots, and pull my pants and underwear to my ankles. Her eyes never leave my own, her breathing coming quicker and quicker with each additional inch of skin I expose. It’s intoxicating—the hunger in her eyes.
Stepping out of my clothes and toward her, I run my hand slowly over the silky skin of my shaft. I press it at the apex of her thighs, and she quivers at the contact. She’s already so wet, her cream running down her legs, and I draw my cock through it again. Stetson squirms, and I know these gentle touches are torture, punishment enough. I drop my head to her hard, exposed nipple, sucking the bud into my mouth. She groans, and I bite her, unable to control my growing need. She cries out but does not try to pull away.
I release her nipple and suck the other into my mouth, all while thrusting my cock through her wet folds, coating my length with her cum. It drips around the hand that’s gripping my cock, and I pull away from her nipple with a pop, looking down where I tease us, thrusting slowly forward but never inside.
“Fuck, baby, look at how wet you are for me.”
She nods, her eyes straining to see my cock rubbing against her clit.
“Do you think I’m ready, Stetson?”
She bobs her head frantically, obviously short on words now.
“Spit on it, baby. Get me wetter for you.”
She spits, missing, the liquid sliding between the valley of her breast and over the plain of her stomach. As it gets to her pussy, I swipe my cock through it and growl. “Again.” Stetson strains against the rope, angling her head farther out, and this stream of spit lands on the swollen tip of my cock, hot and wet.
I rub her spit in with the cream from her wet, little cunt, my grip nearly painful around my shaft.
“I’m not on birth control.” It’s a ragged whisper, and I just laugh.
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re clean. I’ve seen your doctor’s reports. And I haven’t been with another woman in ten years. There’s no fucking way I’m putting anything between us—now or ever. You are all mine, always.”
She whines but doesn’t argue, and I know my words only spur her on, more cum leaking around my cock. Hiking one of her quivering legs up to my waist, she instinctively wraps it around my hips, holding me to her.
I place my free hand between her tied-up ones on the pole and line up my cock with her needy little cunt. I take in a deep breath, willing myself to last.
But fuck, ten years is a long time to dream about what something will feel like—fully unleashing yourself with the one person you love. And I already know it’s going to be even better than anything I could imagine.
Breathe, you fucking bastard.
This is nothing like our masked encounter, because she sees me, and I her, and by joining like this we are branding our names onto each other’s souls in a permanent way that not even death will erase.
She bucks her hips toward me, and I growl, my eyes snapping angrily to her wide, frantic ones. She opens her mouth, a hiss mixing in with her words. “For the love of God, Gus, if you don’t fuck me?—”
I don’t let her finish as I shove inside of her, pounding myself to the hilt in one violent thrust. Her pussy strangles my cock, so hot and wet I will surely burst into flames. She screams at the intrusion, her body convulsing around me.
I don’t let her adjust to my size; I don’t let her catch her fucking breath. If I’m going to die from lack of oxygen, she’s going down with me.
“Look at me, Stetson.” Her eyes find mine instantly, and then I pull out, pounding in rough and hard at a relentless pace. “Look at my face while I’m fucking you. See me, Stetson. I want to be branded on every part of your soul. I’m done hiding from you.” I search her face for any hint of reservation or regret. I only see desperation.
Her body trembles against mine, moans and hoarse screams filling the barn as I claim her, devour her, destroy her . Our slick, slapping bodies and mixed cries make for an erotic symphony I want playing at my funeral, and I know we’re both so close—stars dance dangerously behind my eyelids, and Stetson’s panting is becoming shallower, faster.
“I’m so full.” She moans, her forehead falling against my own as I pound harder.
“Look at how well you take all of me, baby.”
“Yes, so fucking good.”
“Are you going to come for me?” My voice is hoarse—I know I should slow down, I should make sure she comes, but I’m crazed, bloodthirsty, and not even the barn burning down could peel me from her body now.
“Oh my… Gus, I’m so fucking close.”
“Tell me what you need, Stetson.”
Slap, slap, slap.
I close my eyes, breathing angrily through my nose. Just a little longer, Augustus. Keep it together.
She shifts slightly, her leg pinning me closer to her body, my thrusting hips now rubbing against her clit with each in and out. She screams at the contact, her leg flexing to hold me tighter yet. I drop both hands to her hips and anchor my body as close to hers as I can.
“Is this what you need? Use my body to come, baby, use me to make yourself feel good.”
“Faster. Harder.”
I groan— Who am I to argue with her requests ? I pound harder, faster, our bodies so close we could be fused together. And then she erupts, scream after scream tearing from her throat, her head tipped back in ecstasy, beads of sweat running over her creamy skin. I feel each ripple of her pussy around my aching cock, her clit—swollen, rubbing against the base of my dick. She rides me, frantic and desperate, and I’ve never been so completely lost.
It’s all I need to explode, my body stilling, cock twitching inside of her hot cunt, seed spraying her walls. It’s enough to send her into another orgasm, her arms taut as she pulls on her restraints.
After a few minutes, both shaking but breathing again, I reluctantly pull from her heat, watching as cum slides from her. Without thinking about it, I bend down, swiping two fingers through the cum, and push it back inside of her.
She groans. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
I smile wickedly, standing up, and smear our mixed essence across her lips. She licks them clean before I’ve even fully removed my fingers, her eyes boring into mine.
“You are mine,” I growl, kissing her savagely once more, my cock twitching again. She smiles against my lips.
“And you are mine.”