Epilogue
KENSIE
The room feels hot, oppressive. Sweat coats every inch of my skin, dampening my hair and mixing with the tears on my cheeks. The dim red light heightens the atmosphere—heavy, tension filled.
Above all else, frustrated.
Grant’s breath is hot against my skin as he leans down to whisper in my ear. “You’re doing so well.”
I shudder at the words, a whimper escaping my throat.
His face lifts, allowing me to see the wicked expression he wears. “I need to be careful with my praise, don’t I baby? We both know sweet words make your dirty pussy clench.”
I slam my eyes shut as he chuckles.
“Spread those legs,” he orders. “Let me have some more fun.”
I grit my teeth, wondering if it’s time to employ my safe word. I only ever used it that once in all this time, only once since we first started these meetings, back when I was still working out what I liked. What I trusted him with.
Trust. Yes, I trust Grant. More than anyone I’ve ever met. And it’s only that trust that allows me to do what he asks and spread my legs.
“Good girl,” he mutters, just as the buzz fills the air. I barely have time to brace myself before he presses the toy against my center.
“Fuck,” I shout, my every muscle tensing. If I wasn’t restrained so tightly to the bench, my back would be bowing, my body twisting desperately away from the relentless pleasure.
“You can do this,” Grant says, his voice sounding very far away. “Concentrate.”
But I can’t. I know I can’t. I’m going to come, there’s no way to hold it back. Not anymore, not after the hours of torture he’s put me through, not when it feels so damn good—
“Enough,” he barks, the buzzing ceasing immediately. I cry out, a needy, begging sound that I couldn’t contain if I tried. As torturous as the pleasure felt, the loss of it is even worse.
“Please,” I beg. “Please, sir. Please let me come.”
There’s a pause, the only noise I can hear the desperate thunder of blood in my ears. Just when I think he’s finally going to have mercy on me, he sucks in a breath. “No.”
I cry out again, louder this time, fresh tears streaking down my cheeks.
I can’t do this. I can’t take another second.
Tonight’s scene was Grant’s idea. And while orgasm denial had sounded fun when he suggested it, I never would have agreed to it if I knew just how sadistic he would be.
It’s been hours. Literal hours of me tied up to this bench while he does everything in his power to bring me to the edge.
He used his fingers, his tongue. So many different toys I can’t even keep them all straight.
He spanked my ass, my breasts, my pussy.
He even used a riding crop, right on my clit.
He whispered the dirtiest imaginable words in my ears while running gentle fingers over every inch of my skin.
He put clamps on my nipples then sucked my flesh so hard I thought I might black out.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve reached the peak only to come crashing back down without any relief. My body is a live wire, ready to explode at the slightest touch.
If only he would allow it.
“Shh,” he murmurs, his face appearing in front of mine again. He kisses my cheeks, humming as his tongue darts out to lick my tears. “You’re being such a good girl for me, Kensie. So very good.”
“I can’t,” I gasp through my sobs. “I can’t do this anymore, sir.”
“You can,” he says, his gentle voice at complete odds with the cruelty of this game. “Do you know how I know you can?”
I only sob harder, shaking my head against the leather of the bench below me. It feels sticky against my hair, my back and legs, what with the oppressive heat and the sweat dripping from my body. I feel dirty and overheated and so fucking on edge.
“Shh,” he soothes again, brushing damp hair from my face.
“I know you can do this, baby, because I know you. I know this sweet little body of yours better than you do.” He presses open mouthed kisses over my cheek, down to my neck.
I’m strung so tight my entire body trembles at the feel of his lips on me—is it going to be a simple kiss that finally crashes me over into orgasm?
“Now be a good girl and hold on a little longer.”
I groan in frustration but it quickly changes to an almost painfully overwhelmed shout of pleasure—oh, he’s right there now, the hard heat of his dick pressing into me, sliding inside.
“Fuck you feel good,” he grunts. He doesn’t give me any time to adjust, immediately slamming his hips into me. “Your pussy is so hot and wet for me.”
Because you’ve been edging me for hours, I think, but I don’t dare sass him, not when he’s thrusting so good and deep inside me.
He lowers his body over mine, every inch of my over stimulated, sensitive skin screaming as he presses against me.
His lips are on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his breath hot on my face.
Even after everything he’s done to me tonight, it’s this—him on top of me, inside me, surrounding me—that feels the most overwhelming. He’s everywhere, like I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
“I love you,” I gasp into his mouth, and he groans loud, pumping into me harder.
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Grant. I love you so much.”
“Fuck, Kensie. I’m going to come.”
“Please,” I beg, my entire body shaking. “Please, Grant.”
His tempo somehow increases even more. “Come,” he growls in my ear. “Come on my cock right now.”
It’s instantaneous, the way I detonate for him.
All the buildup, all the frustration, every ounce of sensation he forced on me throughout the night, all coalesce in a blinding explosion of pure pleasure.
The orgasm takes over the rest of my senses, making it so I can’t see or hear.
All I can do is experience this feeling, how good it is.
I come back to myself just in time to see him reach the same explosive finish.
He’s grunting and groaning my name, almost whimpering, his thrusts erratic as he spills inside me.
But his eyes stay on me the whole time, letting me see every bit of what he’s feeling.
His pleasure. His release. His love for me.
It’s enough to make me come again. Or maybe I never stopped. All I know is that I ride the wave of sensation until we’re both limp and boneless. He slumps on top of me, breathing hard, his weight pressing me into the bench.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters, over and over again. He finally manages to lift his head to look at me, the dirtiest grin lighting up his face. “Want to go again?”
I think I laugh but honestly, I’m still coming down and I don’t really remember my name at this point.
I’m vaguely aware of Grant moving around me, undoing my restraints and rubbing my wrists and ankles.
Then I’m lifted into the air in his arms as he brings me to the connected bathroom.
I bury my face in his neck, too limp and out of it to even lift my head.
The next thing I know I’m standing under a hot shower, Grant physically holding me up.
“You broke me,” I grumble into his chest.
He chuckles, shifting my body so he can use his free hand to get shampoo and soap.
By the time he’s washed my hair and body, I’m feeling more human. I watch Grant as he rinses me, love unfurling in my chest. He looks so focused on his task, so serious, but there’s also a deep contentment in his expression that I always see when I allow him to really take care of me.
I had no idea how important it was, how happy it would make him, before we both finally admitted what we wanted from each other.
It’s been an amazing few months.
“There you go,” Grant murmurs, pulling my front back to his chest and looking down at me. His tall frame shields me from the stream of the water. “How do you feel?”
I scoff. “How do you think? I came so hard I think I left my body.”
His expression turns smug as he slides wet hair from my forehead. “I aim to please.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay, can we talk about how you made me hold out for literal hours and then you came in about three minutes?”
He smacks my ass hard but he chuckles. “If you think all that edging wasn’t hard on me too, you’re crazy. I nearly came in my pants a dozen times.” He kisses me, soft and lazy. “You’re so fucking sexy it hurts.”
I sigh into him, letting my body relax further into his muscular frame. “Happy baby?” He murmurs in that soft, tender voice that always makes my stomach swoop.
“Happy doesn’t even cover it.”
The past four months have been amazing. The best I’ve ever experienced in my life. I didn’t know that life could be like this—so full of love and good times and excitement for the future.
Right after my divorce, I thought that the lack of fear was about as good as things could get. It was enough for me to go to a job I enjoyed every day then come home to a quiet, peaceful apartment alone. Compared to how things were when I was married, my post-divorce life felt like heaven.
I had no idea how much better it could be.
I’m still working that job I love, though I’ve been promoted now. I’ve also started taking on some consultant work in my free time, with Gemma’s blessing, and I’m enjoying building up a client list of my own.
I leave work tired, but fulfilled. And now it’s not a cozy empty apartment I come home to. Now it’s him. Evenings making dinner together. Lazy nights watching movies on the couch. And let’s not forget the sex. On pretty much every surface of both of our apartments.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to give up my place, even though I know Grant wants me to move in. We spend just about every night together anyhow, but there’s something about breaking my lease that freaks me out.
Turns out, it’s pretty hard to allow yourself to completely rely on someone else. Even when I love that person as much as I love Grant.
He’s never gotten mad when I’ve declined his invitations to move in. “You went through some serious trauma,” he told me the last time we talked about it. “That apartment represents your security. So we’re gonna take this as slow as you need.”
“This feels good,” I murmur as I lean into him, the steam from the shower surrounding us. I yawn against his chest and he chuckles.
“I better get you dried off before you fall asleep on your feet.”
“It’d be your fault if I did,” I mumble. “Torturing me like that.”
“You fucking loved it.”
I totally did.
He dries us both with thick white towels before carrying me out to the bed. I’d long since stopped complaining about Grant’s desire to carry me everywhere. It’s just another one of those things that makes him happy to do. Taking care of me.
And my man does it so very well.
Grant gets me settled on the plush mattress before fiddling with a panel on the wall, changing the dark red light to a dimmer golden glow. Then he climbs in with me, his arms immediately pulling me close. I go without hesitation—after all, his arms are my favorite place in the world.
“So, I was thinking about next time,” I say and he growls deep in his chest.
“Next time, eh?”
I stifle a giggle. We’d long since abandoned my list. We’d gotten through pretty much everything on it anyhow.
We might try another menage one day. We’re still both turned on by the idea, and I think it might turn out better now that we’ve committed to each other.
Now that we’re both confident in the knowledge that I’m his, and he’s mine.
But it will be touching only. Grant told me straight up that there’s no way he’s ever letting another man enter my body as long as I live. No arguments from me.
These days we just do what feels natural without any pre-planning—well, most of the time. It turns out Grant has plenty of fantasies of his own when it comes to me. Again, no arguments from me.
“Yes, next time,” I reiterate. I tilt my face up to raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m thinking of something really filthy for our next meeting.”
He scowls a little when I refer to our time together as a meeting, but decides to play along. “And what filthy things are filling up that naughty little mind of yours?” he asks, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose.
I take a deep breath, surprised when no nerves rise in my chest. It’s a big step, yes, but it feels right.
“I was thinking we could have really dirty, hot sex…in our bedroom.”
He looks confused for a moment. “In our…” then his face brightens, eyes going wide. “Our bedroom? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I nod, a bit of shyness creeping in. But the joyous laugh that bursts out of Grant is enough to wipe that away. He sits up in bed, pulling me into his lap and cupping my face. “You want to move in? Officially?”
I nod, eyes searching his. “If you still want—”
“Of course I fucking do!” Then his lips are on mine, hot and hard, his tongue coming out to plunder my mouth. Just as I’m starting to sink into the kiss, he pulls away again. “Holy shit, Kense! This is the best fucking news I’ve heard in ages.”
Tears sting my eyes as I look up at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy. There’s a boyish glint in his eyes, a huge grin on his face. It’s like I just gave him the best present in the world.
“I want to live with you,” I tell him, my voice thick with emotion. “I want us to build a life together.”
His expression turns a little more serious as he takes my face in his hands again. “I want that, too. More than anything. But only if you’re ready.”
“I am.” I shrug. “I always told myself I would never rely on another man ever again. But with you…” I trail off, not sure how to put it in words. “With you it feels like you’re relying on me just as much. And I don’t feel afraid.”
His eyes are fierce as he looks down at me. “I do rely on you. You’re everything to me, Kensie. Fucking everything.”
He kisses me again, and this time he doesn’t stop. Soon he’s sliding me under him, our bodies joining once again. I let myself be swept away in our passion, knowing that I always have him to hold onto.
That’s the thing about trust—with the right person, it just gets stronger and stronger. And Grant is definitely my right person.
In the months since I met him, he’s shown me so much. He taught me about my own body, my own desires. He gave me a safe place to explore and find myself. I know that as time goes on, we’ll keep exploring, together. There’s a whole world out there, and he’ll be at my side for all of it.
This is only the beginning.
The End