Epilogue-Thalia
Eight Months Later
The wind rushes around us, and I feel Reed’s thighs tighten around my hips. He’s at my back, his hands covering mine as we enjoy our motorcycle ride in downtown Columbus. Atlas and Loxley race beside us, my brother revving the engine of his bike as his wife holds on for dear life.
We just had a double date in the city—Rowan and Addison’s request, since the new parents haven’t been out without Sophia since she was born. It was nice to see them enjoy an evening together without having to worry about diaper changes or feeding schedules.
Not that they mind.
I’m pretty sure Lox is pregnant again. While Reed and I enjoyed our cocktails and made googly eyes at each other, my sister-in-law and brother remained completely sober.
And she didn’t even eat her pasta—a weird sign considering I’ve seen Lox wolf down a whole plate of spaghetti in less than a minute.
The only logical explanation is food aversion.
Atlas signals to us—his hand rising and falling with his pointer finger poking out.
Reed and I both stare at him because we have no idea what the fuck that even means. My brother rests his head back as if he’s groaning before lane-splitting between two slow-moving cars and sailing into the tunnel ahead.
We follow behind him, losing sight completely of them as we cruise. The orange lights of the tunnel bounce off everything, and I hold my hands out as Reed steers us. A smile touches my lips at the sense of freedom that surrounds me while security anchors me at my back.
Reed lowers one of his hands to my thigh, giving me an appreciative squeeze as my blush spreads.
A dark car gets even with us, effectively ruining our moment as we glance over in curiosity. The driver, some douche with a posh hairstyle and boyish features, nods his head at me.
I roll my eyes before an idea pings. My legs swing around as I shift until I’m facing Reed.
My thighs settle over his as he gets the idea and uses a hand to collar my throat before pushing me back onto the handlebars.
He turns, glaring at the driver of the car until the guy sucks his teeth in disappointment and drives off.
I should probably turn back around, but that wouldn’t be any fun, now would it?
Instead, I tease my boyfriend with a smirk as my hands trail up his thighs. He coils beneath me, keeping his eyes on the road as I curl my fingers around the crooks of his thighs. The imprint of his cock twitches as it hardens against his leg, and my mouth starts to water.
Those orange tunnel lights streak past like comets, and Reed’s grip on my hip tightens in a warning.
“You’re going to get us killed,” he shouts over the engine.
I shake my head, my fingers walking higher up his thighs. “Pull over.”
The words come out as a command, not a request. His jaw flexes beneath his helmet. The bike slows, and I know he’s scanning for an exit, somewhere dark enough to swallow us whole.
My pulse hammers in my throat. The tunnel ends, spitting us out onto a stretch of road crowded by industrial buildings, all shutter bay doors and chain-link fences. Reed kills the headlights and coasts into the shadow of a loading dock, the concrete ramp sloping up into darkness.
He cuts the engine. Silence crashes over us like a wave.
“Thalia—”
“Off the bike.” I purr.
He swings his leg over the seat, and I follow, my boots hitting the ground with a soft scuff. The helmet comes off first, and I toss it aside without caring where it lands. My hair tumbles around my shoulders, and Reed’s eyes track the movement, dark and hungry.
I don’t give him time to speak. My palms flatten against his chest, and I shove him backward. His spine hits the concrete wall of the loading bay, and he releases a sharp exhale. Surprise flickers in his expression, then something else—something that makes my stomach flip.
My nails rake down his chest, catching on the fabric of his shirt. “You liked that, didn’t you?.”
His throat bobs. “I didn’t like him looking at you.”
“I know.” I press closer, my hips pinning his. The thick ridge of his cock strains against his jeans, and I roll my hips once in a slow rhythm. His breath stutters as his eyes close. “You liked showing him that I belong to you.”
Reed’s hands come up, but I catch his wrists and pin them to the wall on either side of his head. His eyes widen, pupils blowing so wide the brown is nearly swallowed whole.
“Keep them there,” I whisper.
He nods, a quick, jerky motion.
I drop to my knees. The concrete bites into my skin through the denim, a sharp little shock of pain that grounds me. My fingers work his belt, the buckle clinking in the quiet. I’m shaking with anticipation, every moment quick and unfocused, until I release him.
His cock springs up against his stomach, thick and already slick at the tip. I lean in, letting my breath ghost over the sensitive skin, and he shudders. His hips twitch forward, but I press a hand to his lower belly, holding him still.
“Don’t move.” I order with a small smile.
A low sound catches in his throat—half groan, half whimper. My thighs clench at it in response, as if our bodies are in tune.
I wrap my fingers around the base of him, squeezing hard enough that he gasps. The subtle lighting catches on my initials inked into the base of his cock, and pride swells in my chest. He wears my mark like it’s a badge of honor, and it makes me want to cover him in little doodles.
My tongue flattens against the underside of his shaft, and I drag it up. His whole body goes rigid at the first touch of my muscle on his heated skin. The taste of salt fills my mouth, and I hum, the vibration drawing a strangled curse from his lips.
“You’re so—” he begins.
I pull back. “I said don’t move.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands, still pressed flat against the wall, curl into fists. I watch him fight for control as the tendons in his forearms stand out, and the sight of it makes me ache.
I take him into my mouth abruptly, shoving him to the back of my throat.
The weight of him on my tongue, the stretch of my lips—I sink down until there’s resistance. My throat constricts around him, and Reed makes a sound I’ve never heard before. It’s raw and broken, a reflection of what I’m reducing him to.
“Fuck, Thalia—” he rasps.
I hollow my cheeks and pull back slowly, sucking hard. My tongue traces over every inch of flesh, and his hips buck. I let him this time, let him thrust into my mouth, and the taste of him grows stronger.
My nails rake down his thigh hard, and he hisses. I do it again, this time leaving red, swollen marks in my wake. The hiss turns into a moan, and his cock jumps in my mouth.
Pain.
He’d always been like this, always craved the edge of it, the sting that sharpened pleasure into something almost unbearable. And I’m more than happy to give him exactly what he needs to curve the edge.
I draw back until just the tip rests on my tongue, and then I bite down.
Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to give him euphoria beyond imagination.
The muscles in his stomach tighten, and his head thumps back against the wall.
His whole body is trembling now, a fine vibration that I can feel through the hand I still have pressed to his belly.
“Please,” he breathes. “Please, I—”
Please.
That word from his mouth is better than anything I’ve felt all night.
I take him deep again, relaxing my throat, and my free hand slides between my own thighs.
The pressure of my fingers through my jeans is nowhere near enough, but it’s something to ease the burning ache that’s been building since we got on the bike.
I work him with my mouth and tongue; the wet sounds obscene in the quiet. Reed’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his hips rocking in tiny, helpless movements despite my command. I don’t punish him for it.
Not yet.
When I feel him getting close—the telltale tightening of his thighs, the way his breathing hitches—I pull off. A string of saliva connects my lips to his cock, and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
His chest heaves, his eyes wild and unfocused. “Why did you—”
“Because I’m not done with you.” I rise to my feet, my knees aching, but I don’t care. I grab the front of his shirt and pull him toward the bike. “Back up towards the bike.”
He stumbles, catching himself on the leather. His jeans are still around his thighs, and the sight of him like that—exposed, wanting, completely at my mercy—sends a pulse of heat straight through me.
I unbutton my jeans and shove them down until they pool at my feet.
The night air kisses my skin, cool against the wetness that has already soaked through my underwear.
I don’t bother taking them off. I just push them aside and press myself against him, my hips flush with his as I use the seat of the bike to hold my right foot as I hike my knee up.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” I murmur against his ear, my teeth grazing the lobe. “And you’re going to take it.”
He shudders, his eyes fluttering. “Yes.”
I reach down, position him, and sink onto him in one slow, agonizing motion. The stretch of him inside me makes my vision blur. I brace my hands on his shoulders, my nails digging in painfully as I ride him.
The angle is devastating.
Every thrust drives him deeper, the head of his cock dragging in and out of me.
Reed’s hands grip the edge of the seat, and the sounds he makes are low and desperate.
My fingers slide around his throat, but I don’t squeeze.
I just hold him there, my thumb pressed against his pulse, feeling the frantic beat of his heart.
His breath catches, and I feel him swell inside me.
“Look at you,” I whisper, my hips never faltering. “So pretty when you’re mine.”
His head falls forward against my shoulder, and I can see the pleasure twisting his face. I drag my nails down his chest again, hard enough to leave marks, and he groans.
“Thalia—I’m going to—”
I tighten my grip on his throat. Just enough to make his breath hitch and his eyes flutter closed.
“Are you going to cum for me, Reed?” I purr with another harsh slap of my hips.
“Yes,” he rasps. “Fuck, yes.”
“Inside me,” I order, my own release causing my movements to become sloppy as the heat spreads through my limbs. “I want to feel it all.”
He grabs my hips, his lips pulling over his teeth, as he controls me harder and faster.
My head tips back as I cry out into the darkness like a demon of the night, my whole soul leaving my body with my orgasm.
Heat floods between us as Reed gives a deep, guttural sound in the back of his throat.
He stills, and we both pant wildly as we melt into each other’s arms.
We’re smiling like fools as I curl my hand into his chest and listen to his slowing heartbeat as the seconds pass.
Until blue and red lights bounce off the dilapidated buildings and we hear a siren getting closer.
Our heads rip up as we stare wide-eyed at each other.
“Time to go,” Reed says breathlessly.
“Yup,” I agree before we both practically trip over ourselves to put our clothes back on. He helps me slide my jeans over my legs before we hop on the bike just as the police officer rounds into the same area as us.
Reed revs the engine as I lift my middle finger to the cop before we peel out and leave him in a trail of dust.
We pull into Atlas and Loxley’s driveway at the same time they do. Which tells me they also took a detour.
Freaks.
Atlas helps his wife down from the bike before nodding at us. “When I tell you to split a fucking lane, do it.”
I make a jacking off motion before tossing my open hand out at him, spewing my imaginary cum in his direction. “That’s what I think of your attitude.”
Reed snorts. “How the fuck are we supposed to know what the hand signals mean? We don’t use them.”
“I can tell,” Atlas grouches.
Loxley sticks herself into her husband’s side. “You act like you wanted them to follow us.” She walks her fingers up his chest before nipping at his bottom lip. “Then we wouldn’t have been able to…”
“Eww,” I look away with disgust before taking Reed’s hand and walking towards my brother’s cottage.
Rowan opens the door before we make it there, a spit-up towel tossed over his shoulder, stains that look oddly like milk peppering his t-shirt, and a baby monitor in his right hand as he checks his watch on his left wrist. “We’re a little behind schedule.
Bedtime for Princess Sophia is marked at nine-thirty-two. ”
Addison appears beside him, smiling as she pats his shoulder. “It’s babysitting our godchild. Not a boot camp, Row Row.”
Loxley giggles. “Thanks again for getting us out of the house.”
“It’s no problem,” Addison says softly. “We got so many baby cuddles and the babbling?! Oh, I love it!” She scrubs a hand across her chin before lifting a finger. “Also, Rowan checked your mailbox earlier. You guys had a lot of letters piled up.”
The new parents wince. Atlas scratches at the back of his neck as Lox sighs. “Yeah, we’ve kinda been ignoring our responsibilities outside of parenthood.”
“Want to come inside for some coffee?” Atlas tosses the suggestion out, and everyone agrees before we pile inside.
The living room is usually littered with plastic, brightly colored toys, but it seems that Rowan has worked his magic yet again, cleaning the place spotless except for the tummy time mat that rests in the center of the floor.
The kitchen is sparkling too, and the pile of letters looks like a daunting mass in the pristine area.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Lox says, but I can see the appreciation in her eyes.
“You know it’s no trouble,” Addison smiles as she leans over the kitchen island.
“I enjoyed getting to organize,” Rowan shrugs as he stands behind his wife and rubs his hand along her spine.
Atlas steps in front of the coffee bar, already working on scooping the grinds into the filter as Reed takes me in his arms. I smile up at him as Lox shuffles through the letters.
“Oh, this one is pretty,” my sister-in-law boasts before ripping into it. She unfolds some expensive-looking, thick paper and her eyes skim the lines. Her face falls.
“What’s wrong?” Addison asks.
The whole house goes utterly quiet as Lox blinks before sliding the paper over to us.
Together with their families,
Liam and Bailey Moore
joyfully invite you to celebrate their wedding day as they begin their forever together.
Please join us for an evening of love, laughter, and cherished memories.
January 10th
Regal Gardens
Uptown. 120076 Crescent Ct, Dallas, TX
We look forward to celebrating with you!
It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I reread the lines over and over again, waiting to see if anything changes.
It doesn’t.
“That’s in less than two months,” Reed whispers.
Rowan straightens, his jaw shifting. “Has anyone seen Dom or Theo the last few days?”
Collectively, we all glance at each other because no. Not a single one of us has seen them.