Epilogue
Dexter
Sabrina’s submission is intoxicating. I live for these moments when she’s completely mine to love. There’s no greater satisfaction than giving my wife what no one else can give her: the freedom to let go, to take pleasure, to be adored without restraint or conditions.
When we make love, Sabrina becomes a pure, unfiltered version of herself. Her beautiful, responsive, sexy self.
In every other aspect of her life, my wife is an overachiever. Sabrina has yet to find a project that doesn’t yield to her spreadsheet skills or meticulous planning. Even her recovery from that fucked up accident was handled with more grace and dedication than I’ve ever witnessed in the NHL.
On the ice, she was considered a protégé from eight years old onward.
She was invited to every elite team in and around Buffalo, which meant she played with the boys because, well, systemic sexism.
Is anyone surprised that the girls’ programs were grossly underfunded? Honestly, that needs to change.
My point is, Sabrina excelled throughout her life. Coaches from all over the region clamored to lure her to their team. She stayed in our local league, so—fortunately for me—she was my goalie for every game, every tournament, every hockey-related experience of our childhoods.
Watching Sabrina Ramirez glide from post to post to cover her net, diving into the fray of crashing opponents to stop the puck, do the splits like her body is held together by rubber bands, is a sight to behold.
I’m a professional hockey player. I know what it’s like to play with and against world-class goalies. I can honestly say no one has the precise technique and innate reflexes Sabrina brought to the game.
She was a force of nature and a work of art in front of the net.
Currently, on this dining table where I’m feasting on her body, she’s also a force of nature and a work of art.
My wife looks down between her legs where I’ve drank up her climax. The smooth expanse of her skin and the tender rise of her breasts are a sight to behold. Her lips are parted because she’s panting. Her eyes roll to the back of her head.
Sabrina is as lost in the maze of lust as I am.
“Dex, please, baby. I need your cock.”
“Give me a second,” I manage to croak.
It’s almost too much to have her beg while I lick my lips, her cum coating my beard. My hands are a platter under her ass and around her fleshy hips. My dick throbs angrily, lodging a complaint against my hesitation.
Down, boy.
I don’t want to come yet. We’re just getting started.
I look at the living room in frustration. Ornaments and wreaths are on every soft surface. The dining table is too rough for her back once I’m on top of her. The only free spot is in front of the fireplace, but even there the Christmas lights are unrolled, ready for the tree.
I grin, an idea forming.
She squeals when I lift her with one hand and sidestep the ornaments on the floor, snaking a path to the fireplace.
With my other hand, I tap on my phone screen to shut off all the overhead lights.
We’re illuminated by the fading dusk outside, the glow of the fireplace, and the Christmas lights on the floor.
“Grab the blanket,” I tell her as we walk by her favorite reading chair.
When I finally place her on her feet, I lay out the thick blanket on the floor. Sabrina doesn’t need any more instructions. She kneels on the thick fabric and tugs at my sweatpants.
That wasn’t part of the plan, but who am I to deny my wife her needs?
She hums and moans while working on my tip. Then, like a wet dream, Sabrina bobs her head up and down, taking more of me with each plunge. She does this mind-blowing figure eight thing with her tongue on the tender underside of my arousal, all while handling my balls.
“Enough,” I say.
She retreats, only to deliver a sassy grin. “I don’t think so.”
Sabrina dives back in, hollowing her cheeks with blissful suction as she engulfs my cock in wet heat. My mind blanks out for a moment, but then I grab her hair to stop her.
“I said stop and get on your back.”
She raises a brow while stroking my wet cock. “Who’s gonna make me?”
A lust-filled grunt claws up my throat.
The only thing that can make Sabrina’s submission hotter is when she starts off as a brat.
I step back and pull my sweatpants over my cock, denying her access. It’s an obscene sight, this rod under gray fabric.
My wife looks up at me with an exaggerated pout, her lips red from the effort of taking me and her shoulders pulled back in defiance.
She’s so fucking sexy.
“Lie on your back and open your legs.” My voice is stern. I like being in control.
Sabrina takes me right at the edge of losing control. She shakes her head to play this sexy game. Coy resistance is her way of challenging me.
I kneel in front of her to find her brown eyes blown to black, fully dilated. Her breasts quiver as her breathing turns fast and shallow.
And yet, as turned on as she is, Sabrina refuses to lie down.
I guess I’ll just have to get more creative, won’t I?
Reaching over, I run a light finger between her legs, teasing her inner thighs until I graze her soaked cunt.
“This wet pussy wants you to lie down, baby. But you’re too much of a brat to do what you’re told, aren’t you?”
Sabrina whines and moves her hips, seeking more pressure from my hand. I cup her mound but withhold my fingers.
“Dex, I’m so close again.”
“I know,” I state plainly, though my chest expands with a mix of affection and lust.
I dip my finger into her channel. She gasps, grabbing my shoulders so she can writhe her lower body.
With a chuckle, I remove my finger to spread the wet trail of her arousal around her belly button. She grunts in frustration.
“I can stay here all night, playing with your soaked cunt. Bringing you over the edge where you belong.”
Something fiery hits her eyes, like she’s on the verge of defiance, but I dip downward again.
This time, two thick fingers slip into her tight channel. I curve them exactly the way she likes, stroking her tender front walls.
“Oh, yes.” Her head tilts back and her arms drop, her body is lax. Nearly her entire weight is kept up by my palm and thrusting fingers alone.
When I pull back out, she’s so discombobulated by the loss of support, Sabrina wobbles.
This time, when she reaches out to me, she claws at my shirt. Her words are interspersed with heavy pants.
“Dex, please. I’ll lie down. I’ll—”
“Turn around and get on your knees.” My interruption comes out as a growl.
Her jaw slackens and her eyelids lower. I can almost see the tension leave her shoulders when she finally relents to my demands. Sabrina turns around and gets on her knees.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“But—”
Before she can object, I place a pillow in front of her.
It’s a wordless demand to lay her head on it instead of supporting her upper body with her arms. Her head goes down, hair spilling over the pillow and lower body canted higher like an offering.
She wiggles her ass as if to get comfortable, and I give it a little spank.
“Again,” she whines and wiggles her butt till I smack the other cheek a little rougher, leaving a red mark.
“Why does that feel so good?” she asks.
“I said keep your hands behind your back, Sabrina,” I state instead of answering the question. Her hands are having a hard time staying locked at the wrist.
I have a solution ready.
Gripping both wrists in one hand, I use the other to grab the lights. With one, two, three turns around her wrists, the strands serve as erotic handcuffs. This way, I’m free to grab her hips and pull her to me. The lights cast shadow and glimmer over her perfectly canted ass.
“You should see what I see, Baby Brie. The lights glowing around your lower back makes your wet pussy glisten. I’m gonna fuck you now.”
My voice is curt and calm, yet every nerve is buzzing and blood is boiling inside me. I push my sweatpants down, finally releasing my arousal, plum red at the tip where pre-cum forms.
I mean to be gentler. Slower. But as soon as I crest her entrance, Sabrina falls back into me, sheathing me with her tight, wet grip.
Goddamn, it’s too good. I hold her to me and she wiggles, wanting more movement and friction. I give her what she needs in hard, relentless thrusts that bounce her off my hips.
She mumbles “yes yes yes” and “please, Dex” into the pillow, and her walls start clamping around me.
Although it nearly kills me, I stop moving.
“Dex! Dex please!” she screams in frustration. She tries to fuck back into me, but I grip her hips.
“Could have taken my cock while you’re on your back on this soft blanket. But you just had to be difficult, didn’t you, Baby Brie?”
“Next time, I’ll lie down,” she says in a timid, repentant tone.
It’s another part of the game we discovered we both like. That when she finally submits, her penitence is complete.
“I’ll be so good next time, Dexter. I promise. I’ll lie down just the way you want me to.”
“Good girl,” I manage to bark before my leash snaps and I pump into her in long, deep strokes. Already so close, I shift the pace to move in wide, deep circles. Reaching around to stimulate her clit, my movement alters between grinding and pumping till we’re both at the edge.
“You there, Sabrina?” I ask with increasingly forceful thrusts. It’s getting impossible to hold back.
“Yes, oh god, don’t slow down. Oh, Dex, yes.”
She pulses around me, and I’m lost. My vision tunnels as I chase down my own pleasure. Her body shudders under my hands, her walls milk my cock, and blissful heat surges through me. I explode, screaming her name like it’s the only word I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.
Sabrina. Sabrina. Sabrina. It means friendship and lust, challenge and reward, intensity and satisfaction. That’s what it’s like to love Sabrina with my entire body and soul.
When the world realigns and Sabrina collapses sideways, I move to take care of my wife. Cradling her arms, I unspool the lights. With soothing kisses, I meticulously check every part of her body I touched, especially the wrists I bound, the hips I grabbed, and the ass I spanked.
“Are you OK, baby?”
“I’m so good, Dex. That was hot.”
“You’re hot. God, I love you,” I state without exaggeration. My voice is hoarse with choked emotion because saying I love you doesn’t even come close to how I feel.
“I love you, too.” She nestles closer and plants her chin on my chest to look up at me. Her lashes catch the firelight and her lips are curved in a satisfied grin. Our limbs wind around each other. I could stay in her arms all night.
But then her stomach growls.
“Have you eaten today?” I ask, tracing lazy circles over her lower back.
“No, but I got some smoked sausages.”
“Which only means one thing.” I grin. “Mac and cheese night.”
“That sounds like a perfect holiday tradition,” she murmurs, kissing my neck, her laugh muffled against my skin.
We’re in a room that looks like a Christmas explosion: garlands coiled like serpents, ornaments in tissue paper, lights in a pile needing to be disentangled again.
“Do you remember when you moved in last year?” I ask, surprising both of us with my sudden nostalgia.
Sabrina props herself up on one elbow, hair spilling over my chest. “Yes. Moving in here changed everything.”
“You walked through the door with an ‘oh shit what now’ expression. Meanwhile, I’m thinking I won the lottery.”
“Oh, Dex, it’s me who was blessed. It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Anyway, thank you,” I say quietly.
Her brow arches. “You’re thanking me?”
“For being here. For giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
She traces a finger down my chest before resting her palm flat against my heart. Sabrina leans down and kisses me.
“Dexter Whitby,” she murmurs against my mouth, her voice sultry, “you’re everything I didn’t know I needed. But . . .”
“But?”
“When you disentangle those lights, make sure to keep one string in the bedroom. We’ll need it later.”
My grin is impossible to suppress.
And so begins another Christmas tradition we’ll keep for the rest of our lives.
I hope you had fun with my little snack of a story. Although short, my goal was to offer a quick read that was both emotionally satisfying and delightfully spicy. Please leave a review if you enjoyed their HEA. Your feedback means the world to me!
With friendship as the foundation of their love, Sabrina and Dexter embraced a future together.
I loved exploring their angst-filled attraction.
Sabrina deserved to feel beautiful and desired when so much of her body felt vulnerable as it healed.
And Dexter was the perfect gentleman . .