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“You keep bringing this up—” His voice is chilly as he takes a step toward me and places his foot on the pitchfork I just tossed to the barn floor in my little rant. “—What you did and did not agree to in coming here. It was my understanding that your father was in dire circumstances. I was the only one in the entire world offering to help him. One might think you’d show some gratitude to the man who saved your father’s life. Your father,” his eyes narrow and his jaw tenses, “who was, by the way, busy stealing the pensions of thousands of honest, hardworking people.”
By the end of this small speech, I remember that oh shit, right, while I might have been lulled by the sight of the sweet horse whisperer I’ve been witnessing all day, this man can also go stone cold. And things don’t always go pleasantly for me when that happens.
“Right,” I grit my own teeth, looking at the floor and seeing bits of hay that I missed while sweeping. Oh my gosh, I’ve only been at this one day, and I already hate mucking out stalls with the fire of a thousand suns.
“Fine.” I kick petulantly at the stupid hay, scattering it over the ground.
Almost immediately, Xavier’s hand is underneath my chin, lifting my head so that I meet his gaze. “What I mean is that you need to abandon all your expectations. You are here now. For the time being, nothing else matters. It is you and me, and when the time is right,” his hand drops low on my abdomen, “the child.”
He says it all with such certainty. Like he has decided how everything will go in his universe and thus it will be so.
“Now, on your knees.” He nods behind me. “Elbows on the bench.”
I feel my eyes widen as I swing around to look at where he’s indicating. There is indeed a bench along the back wall of the horse stalls, near the spigot and deep basin sink where we do washing and fill up the horse water buckets.
He’s got to be… joking.
But with a sinking stomach, I know he’s not. How many times have I had that thought since meeting this man? Never once has any of the outrageous requests he’s made been a joke.
Just once it’d be really great if he could break that record. I turn back to him to check if maybe this time…?
Nope, the serious expression on his face tells me all I need to know.
Sighing, I turn around. Right before I can get to my knees on the hard concrete, Xavier tosses a horse blanket down.
Ever the gentleman. So I get to crouch on a horse blanket while he, what? Fucks me doggie style in a dirty barn?
Or would that be more accurately termed horsey style in this situation?
At least all the horses are out to pasture. I think it would be more humiliating if they were here to watch.
I get down on my knees on the blanket.
“Elbows on the bench.”
I comply.
Behind me, out of sight, I hear the spigot turn on and the sound of splashing water. Is he getting a drink? Or washing up?
I swallow and shift where I sit on my knees. I glance around the empty stable. I’ve still had so few sexual experiences. Especially since it’s Xavier, I have no idea what to expect. It’s impossible not to tense up while waiting for him to do… whatever it is he’s about to do.
But then, sooner than I expect him, his hands reach around the front of my jeans, unbutton them, and tug them roughly down around my knees. Next they go to my panties. He seems impatient.
Immediately his hands are on my ass, stroking the globes. He lets out a low hiss before grabbing them and giving a hard squeeze. I jump at the unexpected pressure.
He chuckles. “That’s right, remember Master’s touch.” He squeezes and massages my cheeks in circles, pulling them apart and then smooshing them together. Then he leans over my back.
“And remember how much you like it.” He pulls the cheeks apart again, squeezing extra hard. Then he lifts a hand in front of my face and shoves his thumb in my mouth. “Suck.”
I breathe in sharply but do as he asks. I suck on his thumb. It’s clean and has the sharp residual taste of hand soap.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises. Using the same language he did with the fucking horses.
That’s screwed up in a big way. Right? It’s not just me?
But then there’s something brushing at my entrance. Not his fingers.
Startled, I look down.
