Page 21 of The Librarian of Souls
It takes a moment for the command to set in, to force my feet to move, but I do it. I race down the stack again, pumping my arms and begging my lungs to work harder. No matter how much I want to get caught or how much I want Augustine, he has to prove to me he can do it. That he can own me.
I don’t make it more than three rows before he crashes into me. I shriek as we fall. His sands carefully cushion our impact as I claw at the carpet to escape. He pins my wrists down with his sands, grinding his cock into my ass greedily. My shift disintegrates and all I feel is skin on skin. Augustine’s body is burning hot and hard against my pliant one. The sands wrap around my throat in a thin line and yank my head back. He presses his cheek to mine, the split of his lip unnatural against my skin, but it doesn’t stop the blood in my body from rushing further south.
“You are mine, Joanna.Mine. My queen and my pet.”
My body shakes with fear and need. The ache between my legs that has been tormenting me for the past week takes over rational thought. I spread my legs wider even as I try to break free of the sands binding my wrist.
A grin stretches his lips and his tongue teases my heated cheek and jaw. Behind me, there is a delicate rattling sound as Augustine rises up onto his knees. Clawed fingers dig into the flesh of my ass and I whimper. Pinpricks of pain ripple up my spine and coat my thoughts in syrup. With the pain comes a drowning pleasure. He pulls his hand back only far enough to crack it across my ass cheek.
“For lying to me and yourself.” He bites out the words, before striking me again. “For not returning to me sooner. For making us suffer seven long days without each other.”
The next series of strikes happen in quick succession until tears stain my cheeks. I am weeping and pathetically wet. My pussy clenches around nothing when he grabs both globes of my ass and spreads me wide open. He tsks before tracing a clawed thumb through my slick flesh. Humiliation burns in my gut, but I want him all the more.
“I do not even think I need to finger open your little pussy,mon abeille. You are staining the carpet with your arousal.”
I whimper, shaking my head, but he doesn’t listen. Augustine moves until he cages me in with his long, lean body. His muscular arms bracket my head while his sand collar keeps my head up. I can’t hide any more or escape what I want so desperately.
His cock slides between my folds, heavy and burning hot. The tip catches on my slit and I gasp. It’s different this time. It isn’t blunt. Instead, it’s pointed and so much larger. Hard veins twist around his shaft and pulse with each teasing thrust. My hips buck up as my thoughts begin to swim and wade through the syrup coating them. What will it feel like inside me? Will it hurt so deliciously that even if I wake up I will still feel the stretch of it?
“Such a naughty thing you are,” he purrs.
“No,” I groan, even as my cheeks burn.
“Your pussy is crying for my cock, Joanna. You cannot deny this, or me, any longer.”
“I can,” I argue. My ass still burns from the spanking, but I told him he would have to make me. I want him to make me.
“I will just have to show you then,mon abeille.”
Augustine plunges his cock into me. He pushes into my giving body until he has buried himself inside me. The stretch burns and pulses through my centre. My pussy convulses as he slowly grinds his hips into me, making sure I have taken all of him. Then the veins of his cock flare inside me and make fullness impossible to comprehend.
“A greedy pussy,” he moans, “made for my taking. Do you feel how my quills mould to you, how hungry they are for your release already?”
My mouth hangs open, the drool slipping from my lips as the words ripple through my thoughts.Quills. As if they could sense my thoughts, they pulse inside me, pressing against that sweet spot inside of me that makes my skin buzz. Pressure leaks from the base of my skull in sweet relief. I can’t think, my mind is thick with sweet nectar that slows me down. My fingers twitch and tremble until they are coated in sand and restrained. Another wave of arousal rushes through my body, my pussy clenching and causing my body to convulse with need.
“Beg me,” he growls, but I am already shaking my head. “Beg the monster to ruin your cunt.”
“Please,” I whimper, my belly fluttering and embarrassment turning my insides to boiling sugar– sweet scorching temptation.
“Use your words,mon abeille.”
I can’t. Augustine’s cock rubs up against my sweet spot again and my vision blurs as I cum. My pussy gushes and squeezes his cock until I am drowning in honey and desire. The collar around my neck tightens, constricting my breath just enough to keep me aware. I want to drown in it though, the overwhelming reality of being with him heightening every touch. I am nearly lost for words and I never want to surface again.
“Beg me,” he pants, and I can just make out how his clawed fingers dig into the carpet, how he is holding himself back.
“Ruin me, Augustine, I’m yours.” My words are slurred, but their meaning is clear.
He pulls his hips back and pounds his cock back into me. I feel every soft quill and ridge of him now. How it stretches my sensitive pussy and electrifies my nerves. His mouth hangs open next to my ear, harmonising every moan I make with one of his own. Augustine fucks me like a wild animal, his hips slamming into my sore ass over and over again until the pain doesn’t even register.
My world tilts, the axis of my existence shifting and moving the rougher Augustine is to me. My thoughts can’t keep up with what I’m feeling. My body is buzzing and sinking, floating and falling. Everything about me feels good, heavy and impossible to lift. My neck falls to the side and he takes his opening. Augustine’s teeth scrape across my flesh and send a jolt through my honey-coated thoughts. His grin is victorious against my sweat-slick skin.
“There you go,mon abeille. Taking me so well, like a good pet ought to.”
He doesn’t even sound tired. The whimper I make is weak and so needy. Augustine’s cock squelches every time he buries inside my abused pussy. His quills massage, pulling and stimulating my insides until I have ruined this carpet forever with the arousal that pours from me. My body is begging for release yet it won’t let go. It won’t let the sweetness sugar coat the final part of my mind. I need more, but I don’t know what it is.
“Please, please, please.”
“Let go for me, Joanna.”
