9. Saxon
9
SAXON
I didn't fall asleep, but somewhere between being fucked into the dirt and now my brain completely checked out. I know I was awake, but I completely missed the entire walk home. I merely blinked— a tired, sated blink— and suddenly Brendon is carrying me through the threshold of my front door while blood dries on my knees and his cum dries on my thighs.
I'm not fully convinced that what just happened wasn't a dream or one of those vivid fantasies I sometime experience when I take a little too much of my THC gummies. I've yearned for Brendon in a way that felt impossible. I've ached to be fucked so brutally in a way that felt out of reach.
For those two things to come together? For Brendon and I to come together? It feels like a mathematical improbability outside the realm of science's reach.
The warmth of my electric fireplace hits my skin as Brendon and I pass through the living room. I expect him to lay me down on the couch, say his goodnights and be on his way, but he keeps moving. Dusty eyes us from her perch on the window as Brendon carries me straight down the hall and into my bathroom where he hits the light switch with his elbow. He sets me down on the sink before turning and running the bath water. I watch him wordlessly as he moves about my bathroom, opening the cabinet below me to find a clean washcloth and a bottle of lavender bubble bath I forgot was under there. He pours and obscene amount of the soapy liquid into the tub and then holds the washcloth under the faucet, soaking it with water.
Turning back, he gets down on both knees in front of me. It's a stark contrast of how we were entangled mere moments ago in the woods, both in bodily position and tone. He takes one of my legs and places it over his shoulder, and I'm suddenly painfully aware of how I must look. Dirty, sweaty, bleeding, leaking.
Ruined. Just like he promised.
Brendon presses a soft kiss to the inner part of my knee, and I shiver. He does it again and again, and while I'm distracted by the warmth of his lips on my skin, he pressed the damp washcloth to my scraped knee. I wince as a sharp sting shoots through me from the scrape— one that I'm sure looks and feels worse than it actually is— but Brendon applies a perfect amount of pressure to the wound, soothing it and me at the same time.
This, being seen in the light, having my depravity so fully on display in a spot in my home that feels so familiar to the two of us feels like too much. It's too raw, too intimate, even more so than having his fists in my hair and his cock in my body.
" Stop!" I yell out, my voice raw and ragged from all the screaming in the woods. Brendon pauses his movements, but keeps the washcloth pressed to my knee as he looks up to me .
"Saxon, baby, I know it stings, but we've got to get the dirt off?—"
"I said stop!" I yell again, this time kicking my feet. I barely have any energy left but I'm not trying to hurt him, just get him off me, stop all the tenderness.
Brendon sits back on his heels, keeping his hands on my skin as he raises a brow at me.
"Are you safe wording me, little bunny? Because the rules still apply. You can kick, scream, and fight all you want, but unless you use your safe word, I'm not stopping." He reaches behind me to a yellow tube of ointment, spreading some on his finger before rubbing it a cut below my knee.
Something inside me whirs, a weird combination of embarrassment, lust, and love , knowing that this man in front of me is still playing within the scene, giving me an out if I need it but knowing what's best for me and making sure I get it. My bottom lip trembles, and my eyes well with tears as I shake my head. I didn't think I'd get this part; didn't think I'd need it. The aftercare, the softness, the knowledge that the person on his knees before me puts my needs first.
As if reading my mind, Brendon stands and cups my cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb.
"Saxon, listen to me. I ruin you, I put you back together. That's my job. That will always be my job, for as long as you'll have me. Do you understand?"
His voice is soft and sweet, so much like the Golden Boy Brendon I've known and loved my whole life and yet somehow also the dark, sadistic Brendon who just fucked me into the ground and fulfilled my every fantasy.
I nod and that seems to satisfy Brendon. He brushes his lips over mine before stripping me bare, lifting me and lowering me into the tub. I watch him strip, taking in his naked form for the very first time. He slides in behind me and pulls me to his chest, and I melt into his warm, solid form. I close my eyes and lean back into him, settling into the hot bath with the knowledge that one night, one chase, has changed absolutely everything.
"Thank you for being a pain in my ass and not letting me go to the haunted house alone tonight. I'm so fucking happy it was you," I sigh as Brendon runs his hands over my belly under the water. He barks out a laugh, then presses his kiss to the top of my head.
"I'm serious, Brendon. I didn't know it, but I think I always wanted it to be you. Out there, in my fantasies, and in life," I say more seriously as I melt further into his embrace.
"And for me, it was always— always — you, Saxon. You're never getting rid of me now, little bunny," he murmurs. "No matter how fast you run, I will be there to catch you."