Epilogue
Play Date
Kyle
“I’m counting, little girl!”
Kyle hollered the words from his office doorway, suppressing his chuckle as the noise of her frantic footsteps on the wood flooring traveled through the open doors.
“Five!” he cried, checking his watch.
The hand crawling toward the twelve of his expensive watch said it was almost midday, which meant they had the entire uninterrupted afternoon to play.
“Four!”
Almost six months had passed since that dreadful day Amy had been rushed to the hospital, the memory only hazy fragments his mind had subsequently stitched together, but Kyle knew one thing—that had been the day that had changed things.
“Three!”
He grinned at the countdown, conscious it wasn’t only his lips rising. Amy and the salacious things she inspired in him were still a marvel, but not a day passed when he wasn’t fucking thankful for all the joy she’d brought into his world.
“Two!”
He and his little girl had been playing their own version of hide and seek ever since she’d been well enough to, reveling in the heightened sense of suspense as she ran away to conceal herself, and he began his leisurely search of the house for her.
Naturally, she’d be wearing her kinky maid’s outfit for him, scurrying around without her underwear and trying not to giggle and give herself away. He pulled in a breath at the mental image, rearranging his swelling erection.
Best not to get ahead of himself. He still had to discover her, taking his time and enjoying the hunt. In reality, though, he’d find her relatively quickly—mainly because she adamantly refused to hide anywhere other than the same two or three places. He shook his head with a smile. It was almost as though she wanted him to find her.
“One!” He bolted down the narrow corridor, despite his pledge to take his time, adrenaline already coursing around his system. “Ready or not, little girl… I’m coming!”
From somewhere nearby, he heard the stifled sound of her laughter, his smirk growing as he spun around to ascertain her location.
“You’d better be ready!”
He stalked toward the dining room, certain that was where she was. For better or worse, Amy seemed to like it there. Upon erotic interrogation, she’d once told him that the room reminded her of those early days when he’d had her serve him topless, so he supposed it held a special place in her heart. Reaching the entrance and scanning the space, he was inclined to agree. They had certainly had some spicy adventures there.
“I wonder where you can be?”
His voice had taken on that melodic thrum he employed when she was near, his excitement ratcheting as he edged closer to his usual spot at the enormous table. One glance was all it took to confirm his suspicions, and there, under the table on all fours, was his very own bloody gorgeous footrest. His balls ached at the sight of her, not only because she looked as hot as hell with her black skirt hiked up around her hips but because she was there, waiting for him and demonstrating her subservience.
“Found you.” His voice lowered to a silky purr as he drew his chair back to take his place. “How are you, little girl?”
She tilted her head in his direction, catching her lower lips between her white teeth. “Ready to serve you, sir.”
“Good answer.” Pulling in a breath, he lifted one foot and rested it gently on the small of her back. “That’s why you’re here.”
“Yes, sir.” She mumbled the words toward the floor, her gaze fixed between her outstretched palms.
“Furniture doesn’t talk, Amy.” He snarled the words, though there wasn’t any part of him that was really irked by her reaction. On the contrary, it was perfect.
She was perfect—and so was the new balance they’d struck since she’d come home.
Her recuperation had taken longer than he’d have liked, but he understood. Seth’s stunt had repercussions—for all of them—and when he couldn’t be there with her, he’d hired a private nurse to ensure she had everything she needed. In the end, there was nothing physically to show for that day except the small scar the side of her stomach bore, but the emotional and psychological wounds were much weightier.
They’d started with Seth.
Kyle had needed to bite his tongue many times in the beginning, listening to the younger man’s diatribe about how things weren’t his fault, but he’d tolerated it for Amy. Seth had come from her, so, he reasoned, not all of him could be bad, and the more time he’d spent with the guy, the more he’d found to like.
Seth had more initiative than his brother, and he was good with his hands, which meant he’d proved to be useful around the house. Brock Hall was huge and getting old and much of her infrastructure needed repair, so having the younger man around hadn’t been all bad. As it turned out, not only was Seth good with a toolkit, but he enjoyed the work.
Kyle had to admit, it was taxing to hand over those dangerous tools at first, especially after seeing the havoc Seth had managed to wield with only cutlery, but Amy’s son had worked hard to prove himself, and over the weeks, even he had to confess, he was starting to have faith in Seth.
He lifted his other foot to rest gently on her, smiling at the whimper escaping her throat. It wasn’t the noise of a woman under duress or one he had to bind and cuff—though he would do those things when she needed them. It was the sound of repletion, recognition that he gave her something nobody else could, and listening to her contented mewls, he’d never been happier.
***
Amy
Pressing her palms onto the floor, her head was cloudy. She liked serving Kyle that way—being nothing more than a vessel for his need—but the surrender was hardly altruistic. Between her thighs, she sensed the heat building, knowing how wet she would be whenever he felt like checking.
Biting back her smile, she leaned into the sensations rippling around her body. Submission was a somatic experience. From the ache in her knees and shoulders to the weight of his shoes balanced on her back and the tingling at her aching nipples, every part of her longed for his attention.
It wasn’t that she thought she was less than he was—far from it. If anything, ever since her discharge from the hospital, her sense of self-worth had skyrocketed. Finally, she and Kyle had reached an accord—a place where they were both satisfied—and despite her wound, she’d never been happier.
Of course, it helped that Seth had started being reasonable, and when Kyle had suggested he take a room on the other side of Brock Hall, Seth had agreed to repay Kyle by helping around the place. As it turned out, Seth had a real talent for the handiwork. With no formal training, he’d managed to resolve one leaking washing machine, put up new bookshelves in the library, and repaint the drawing room. She was glad he was discovering his natural talents, paying Kyle the respect he deserved, while, at the same time, spending time investing in his relationship with her.
He wouldn’t stay there forever. She suspected the bubble of apparent contentment the two men had reached was symptomatic of something short-term, but for the time being, it was enough. Once Seth got paid employment, he could afford to start paying rent of his own, and he knew she’d always have his back if he needed her. She never wanted her sons to struggle financially the way she and their father had done.
“How are you doing, little girl?” Kyle’s voice sounded distant even though he was right there beside her.
“Good, sir.”
Their already satiated sex life had been off the charts ever since she’d been fit enough to relish his attention, and she’d grown to love the impromptu games they played when Brock Hall was empty. Leonard and Stevens were used to their kink, but she wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Seth finding her as Kyle’s footrest.
Despite broaching the topic with him once or twice, her eldest son didn’t seem to share her proclivity for bondage, and she respected that. Their lifestyle wasn’t for everyone, and fortunately, Seth was out job-hunting and catching up with Jonah regularly enough to allow them the space they needed to play.
“Good doesn’t even come close, Amy.” His shoes were lifted from her in a heartbeat, her back arching at the reprieve. “You’re amazing, little girl.”
Her eyes fell closed as his praise washed over her. “Thank you, sir.” She thought she’d said the words aloud, but it was equally possible they were only echoing around the inside of her head.
“Come here.”
She opened her eyes in time to see him beckon her. Crawling toward his shin, she brushed her shoulder along the front of his trousers.
“Up.” He patted his lap, that single word enough to see her rise first to her knees, then onto his thighs.
“You’re so beautiful.” He held his arms open as she settled against his chest, her face skimming the soft hair revealed from his open shirt. “Thank you for letting me play.”
She smiled against him. It was hardly an effort to play the games they both enjoyed so much.
“Anytime, sir.” She lifted her gaze to meet his ocean eyes. “But there is one thing I’m going to need from you in return.”
“Oh, yes?” His tone was knowing. “What’s that, I wonder?”
Her lips tugged. “I need someone to put out the fire between my legs, and I wondered if you were available.”
“You’d better not be asking anyone else, little girl.” His arm slid around her as his words reverberated in her ears.
“I never would, sir.” Straddling him, her hands rose to his chest while he lowered his zipper and released his eager cock.
“There’s my good girl.” Stroking his shaft, he dragged it over her engorged pussy lips. “Nice and wet for me.”
“Oh God.” Her hips rocked over his length, conveying her need. “Please.”
“It’s okay.” Capturing her lips, he angled his crown and thrust deep inside her. “I’m here, little girl. You’re going to get everything you deserve.”
The End
***
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