Moth to a Flame

34. EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

Regan

I’m standing in the middle of one of Central Park trails.

In daylight.

Broad daylight.

Kids are running around. Men and women are sunbathing on the sand. A jogger sprints past me, almost brushing my shoulder. A group of people cross one of the bridges on their bicycles.

The sun shines on my face and I have my clothes on. No one’s stripping me with their eyes or their hands. No one. My white floral sundress feels soft against my skin, showing just as much skin as I choose to show.

My body. My choice.

Well, not really. I know it’s Landon’s, even in my dream.

And it is a dream.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had one of those since Landon and I killed Lester.

For the first couple of months, the nightmares persisted.

The last ten years kept haunting me after Lester was gone.

Life had been good to me. Landon and I agreed that we wouldn’t opt for adoption and that both of us were enough. My man hadn’t left my side day and night. Joined me when I peed sometimes, for Christ’s sake.

Still, the nightmares persisted.

Until Landon and I started to think about how we can give back. We’ve been donating to sexual assault victims’ foundations since, and we volunteer in a sexual violence housing for teens in New York over the weekends.

So many people aren’t as fortunate as I am, to have a loving family and resources to carry them through the darkest nights.

With Landon at my side and Lester dead, I must give back.

That’s also what helped me find closure. How the nightmares stopped.

“Regan.”

His voice. Low and gravelly.

His arms wrap around me from behind. Lean, strong, and possessive.

“Little lamb.”

His hair tickles my shoulder

His cock is inside of me.

Impossible.

“There she is.”

Except it is.

His hand cups my jaw from behind, twisting me to face him. Landon rocks in and out of me, his cock already soaked with my arousal. “My wife.”

I’ll never tire of hearing him say that.

“My wet, tight-as-fuck wife.” Burying himself deeper inside me, he flattens his hand on my stomach to shove himself even deeper.

I cry out his name. He groans at my pain. Fucks me harder, slower.

“I could’ve taken any hole in your body.” His teeth graze my shoulder. Palming my breast, he rolls my nipple between his fingers. “Your lips are a fucking temptation. Still swollen from sucking my cock this evening. Or I could’ve lubed your ass, slid right in while you slept.”

“Please.” I wrap my hand around his wrist, begging him to lower his fingers to where I need him the most. His dirty mouth is such a turn-on. “I need you, please.”

“But your cunt, fuck.”

It’s a game for him, denying me what I’m desperate for. A sexy, teasing game. He tugs at my nipple, his tongue laving on my shoulder before his teeth deliver a vicious bite.

“So wet. So sweet. I licked your pussy while you murmured my name in your sleep. Tasted every inch of your cunt. Was quiet about it, too. Because this”—he groans as he slams into me—“is how you were supposed to wake up. To my cock shoved inside you. To be fucked just like the good girl you are.”

“Please.” I’m maddened with desire. I don’t just need his touch. I’m desperate. “Landon.”

“I’ll touch you.” Every thrust hits me in the right spot. I’m so close that it’s agony and pleasure. To be violated by him is the sweetest torture of all. “When you do this one thing for me.”

“Anything.” I press my ass back to get more of him.

He stops. I whimper when his lips meet my ear. “Beg for it, Regan. Beg me to make you come.”

I should torture him back. Tease and torment him like he does.

I can’t.

“I’m begging you.”

“You can do better than that.” He presses one finger to my lips, right over my clit. Starts rolling his hips.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, please, Landon. I’m begging you.” My nails, back to the way they were, bite into his forearm. “Please, make me come. I’m begging. I need you.”

“Good girl. Such a good girl.”

Heat rushes through me from head to toe when he parts my lips and rubs my clit. My head falls back on his shoulder, and he crashes his lips to mine, devouring me with a kiss while he owns me with his dick.

I come. I moan into his mouth. Clench around his cock. I let him sweep me away and steal my breath, and I love him for it.

For taking only what’s given to him. Brutally so.

My first sexual experience was painful, humiliating, and almost ended with me dead.

The rest, the ones I’ve had and will have with Landon, are the best ones.

I’m loved, cherished, and fucked in the sexiest ways.

I’m his.

And he’s mine.

The end.