Epilogue
Serge choked Aubrey , pinning her to the wall. To keep from panicking, she gazed into his eyes as blackness tinged the borders of her vision.
Her nipples hardened as her arousal took hold. Her eyes rolled. Rhythmic spasms of Aubrey's pussy clamped down on his cock.
Aware of his fingers loosening. She gasped the moment air became available to her.
Serge thrust deeper. Under the force, her head banged against the wall. A whimper of anticipation escaped her mouth.
He made sure she remained grounded, only allowing her to slip into that high before bringing her back around for another turn. She hung from her arms, her wrists bound and secured to the wall.
Each plunge filled her. Her leg slipped from his hip, and he grabbed the back of her thigh, keeping her secure in front of him.
Sex with him only got better the more she permitted him to show her his world. The place where he was capable of feeling.
His fingers trailed up to her neck. She closed her eyes at the onslaught of pleasure, knowing what was coming, what he'd do to her, and how she'd feel.
He was right. She was addicted to him. She craved everything he could do to her.
The pressure on her neck increased.
"Open your eyes." He slid his cock in and out, never missing a stroke. "Look at me."
She blinked rapidly, fighting the pull to let her eyes roll back in her head and climax. His chiseled face, etched in hardness, filled her vision.
"That's it, Bree." He banged her against the wall. "Fucking give it to me."
Her control slipped. Unable to breathe, she understood that her body knew what to do. Her core spiraled tighter, gathering energy. Stars appeared with lightheadedness.
He ground against her. His cock stretched her to the limit, and then her pussy clamped down on him and nirvana swept through her.
He shifted, holding onto her as her body relaxed and constricted. Relaxed and constricted. A slave to the pleasure, her legs slipped off him. Serge gripped her waist, keeping the pressure off her bound hands.
Buried deeply in her, he groaned. The weight of his body pressed against her as she hung on the wall. Even as his body jolted with each spurt of his pleasure, he ripped the Velcro straps off her wrists, taking her weight.
He stepped back, falling onto the bed with her. His cock slipped out and she moaned at the loss.
Later, the aches would show up in her arms. Her pussy would remind her of the sex every time she tried to sit down. Little reminders of Serge's attention.
And yet, every reminder was a validation that someone loved her. Someone wanted her.
She rubbed his back through his shirt. He never slept completely nude. He'd admitted to her that on the streets, having clothes on had saved his life more than once.
She hadn't questioned him further.
She simply held him longer.
"Why are you smiling?" he finally said.
She inhaled deeply, relaxing her hold on him. Her legs slid along the back of his thighs, rubbing against his jeans. "Because it's hard to believe I'm here with you and you've given me more than I ever wanted."
"You deserve more than what I'm able to give you," he whispered.
"You're wrong." She pressed her finger to his lips. "Give me this, honey. Don't ugly what we just experienced with doubts."
He pressed his lips to her forehead.
"I can't outrun my past." He laid his cheek against her head. "I need your light."
Sometimes, she wondered if it wasn't the other way around and he'd tempted her to the darkness. She shivered, lost without his heat. He was her drug of choice.
She sighed, knowing that there was work to do and she had to get ready. Kissing him hard, she crawled over the top of him.
"It's getting late. I need to go to the shelter." She walked into the bathroom, showered, and dressed.
Halfway through drying her hair, Serge walked in and hopped in the shower. She eyed him in the mirror, biting her lip. No matter if they just finished having sex, seeing him, watching him, only made her want him more. She never tired of looking.
He stepped out from behind the glass partition and grabbed a towel, catching her gaze. She looked down at his cock, hardening the longer she looked.
"You have two choices. Keep looking and we'll miss the grand opening, or stop looking and I'll drive you downtown." He tossed the towel over his head, rubbing his hair partially dry.
She dragged her gaze away from him, wanting him there tonight. He was the reason why the shelter was now open.
He walked up behind her, slapped her ass and kissed her neck. "I was hoping you'd keep looking."
"Any other night, I would." She put the brush down and turned to face him. "I'm so proud of us. We found a way to keep the shelter open and make it profitable."
"Was there any doubt?"
She laughed. "So, so many. But never about you or your ability to help me. I'm just happy we found a way to not only keep the shelter open, but also pay the employees more, and pay off the debt."
They walked out of the bathroom together. She grabbed her coat since the nights had turned cold. Yesterday, a few snowflakes had fallen. It was the perfect time to break the good news to everyone.
She walked out to the garage with Serge and got into the passenger seat of his BMW. He pulled out of the driveway, and once they were on the road, he picked up her hand and clutched it in his.
When they opened the door tonight, they would announce that the West-Central Homeless Shelter would now have one hundred cots for adults. Additionally, she had gained approval from the city to welcome children who arrive with a parent needing shelter.
While she couldn't save everyone, and had to accept that not everyone wanted help, she would make sure that everyone who came to her would receive a warm place to sleep and food in their stomach.
A safe place to rest.
She looked at Serge. He stared out the windshield, his brows down in concentration. She squeezed his hand.
He turned his head, and his gaze softened. "Excited?"
"Mm hm." She blinked rapidly to dry the tears before they fell. "Have I told you today that I love you?"
A smile threatened to escape, and he shook his head. "Not today."
She laughed softly. He never got tired of hearing her say it.
"We'll love," she whispered.
"We'll love," he whispered back.
Their pledge to love each other was enough. They no longer had to compromise, test, or fight to understand how each other felt. Serge gave to her freely and often. And she was addicted to him. Head over heels. Completely. Forever.
They'd survive.
Dear Readers,
Every once in a while, it's nice to break away from bikers and get the creative juices flowing.