39. Epilogue – Two Years Later
Epilogue
ANDERS
TWO YEARS LATER
T he beat of the music is so loud it drowns out the moans and cries of everyone around us. People chase their pleasure the way Cara is, and from the way she’s grinding on my cock, she’s already halfway there. Her fingers tighten on my neck, pushing her tits into my face before rolling her hips and leaning back, bracing her thighs around me to hold herself up.
Leaning forward, I press my forehead against her stomach, inhaling her rich chocolate scent before licking a trail up her skin. She arches against me, drawing herself back up. My tongue follows her movements over her ribs, past the puckered skin where the scar from her gunshot wound is, and the swell of her breast to suck her nipple into my mouth.
Dipping her head, she licks up the side of my face. Faster than she can draw back, I snatch her jaw in my hand and squeeze, letting go of her nipple to slide my tongue against hers. It’s not even a fucking kiss. It’s the way we move with each other. It’s our ability to synchronize like we don’t have an audience. And fuck, there are definitely people watching us.
Carmela’s arms wrap around me as our tongues continue to dance. She’s so fucking wet, completely drenching my thighs as she rides me. Tangling my hands in her hair, I pull her closer. “Fuck, I’m going to come if you keep riding me like this. You have to slow down, baby.”
“Is that what you really want? Or do you want to stop being a little bitch, flip me over, and fuck me?” she moans back, licking the shell of my ear before she nips it. Her hips slow, dragging against my cock in long thrusts as she toys with the collar around my neck. It’s a real one that sits over the one I bought for us—there’s still a fucking leash attached to it.
Twisting her hair around my fist, I pull her head back and press our foreheads together. “There’s nothing I want more than to wreck your pussy, baby girl. But you’re being a mouthy bitch tonight, and I think you need to be punished first.”
Her eyes bore into mine before snapping up over my shoulder. I tense, twisting my upper body to see what caught her eye. It’s Martin and Nikolai, both dressed like Angels, looking at us like they want to join rather than scouting the room like they’re supposed to be doing.
Then again, I wouldn’t put it past them to be doing exactly that—silent assassins and whatnot.
We share a look as they silently convey that all is well and there’s no danger. Call me paranoid, but I’ll never forgive myself for Cara being harmed that one Halloween. It’s protocol now whenever we do shows for security to watch our backs—and backsides—at all times.
They disappear into the crowd while I lift Carmela off my cock and spin to lay her on the small bed we’re occupying. Her legs come up to cage my hips, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as I plunge two fingers inside her. “Fuck…An–”
My name dies on her lips as I cover them with my own. It’s her own fucking club, her own rules that prohibit the use of real names. Yet, when I have her messy and writhing, she often forgets that she can’t scream out my real name.
I draw her bottom lip between my teeth, not caring if her lipstick smudges against them. “Tell me, Madame , who’s been a bad little bitch?”
Carmela squirms on the bed, spread out against her giant wings, most of her glittering skin on display for others to covet while I take her. She whimpers as I pick up the pace, fucking her deep with three digits; holding her legs open so everyone can see every inch of arousal that’s spilling from between her legs.
They can always look. But they’ll never be able to touch.
She’s all mine.
Neon blue and red dance across her skin as I pull my fingers out and slap her pussy. “Answer me.”
“I’ve been bad,” she bites out, glaring up at me. Her glower is my only warning before she jackknifes up and grabs hold of my leash, yanking me down and rolling on top of me. “But my doggy’s been even naughtier, trying to keep his mistress from coming. Bad boy!” she scolds as she slowly sinks onto my cock.
My head tips back as she angles her hips and moves them in a figure eight, jerking them roughly each time she completes a pass. It feels like I’ve died and gone to Heaven with my real-life Angel riding my dick like a demoness.
Cara rotates her wrist, twining the black leather leash up her arm as she directs me to sit up. We move together erratically, yet in sync, chasing our release. “Now be a good boy and fuck me like you hate me.”
Fuck, I’m so in love with this woman.
I roll her over so that I’m on top before flipping her so she’s face down on the silk sheets. A sharp sting vibrates through my palm as I smack her ass hard before grabbing her waist and hoisting her hips up to plow back into her. “Madame gets what Madame wants.”
The bed moves with the force of my thrusts, the sound of our skin slapping together reverberating loud enough to hear over the music. “And since Madame is being a bitch, she’s going to get fucked like one.”
Her hands fist in the sheets as she pushes back, meeting me thrust for thrust. “Harder,” she cries out.
I oblige her, my movements inconsistent as a familiar tingle spreads in my tailbone. I let go of her waist, arching over her back to grab the edge of the bed for leverage so I can give her exactly what she wants.
“Fuck, that’s it. Yes! Yes! Just like that!” she orders, her words fading with a squeal as she comes.
Her walls grip me as my balls tighten, and I spill myself inside her. There’s no condom between us, and I take great pleasure in knowing my seed might take root tonight. Carmela keeps insisting we’re too old to have a baby, but her argument grows weaker every time I remind her how cute a kid that looks like both of us will be.
I stay buried inside her, ignoring the applause of the crowd as I lower my mouth to her ear and whisper, “Is my mistress happy?”
“Mmhmm,” she hums contentedly. “Such a good boy.”
“You’re so fucking lucky I love you.” I laugh, lifting a hand to signal an Angel standing by with towels and Carmela’s robe.
As the crowd disperses, I help her up from the bed. When she’s on her feet, she presses up on her toes and gently kisses my lips. “I love you, too.” She steps back and checks her watch, her engagement ring catching the neon lights and sparkling brightly with the movement. “Fuck, we gotta go, or we’re gonna miss our plane.”
Cara takes a step toward the exit when I grab her and pull her back, capturing her lips once more. “Relax, baby girl. No one is going to get started without the bride and groom.”
Carmela
Two Years After That
“I can’t believe she’s graduating. Can’t we just rewind to when she was a sassy little preteen?” Lenni questions as she watches Maya’s graduating class file into their seats.
“Rude, Viv. If you rewind time that far, we wouldn’t be together,” Tripp declares from the other side of her. “And we wouldn’t have our adorable little nieces or our nephew. ”
Benji chooses this specific moment to push away from Ginny. “I want Maya!”
“Of course you do. I swear to God, that’s all we hear these days. Maya this and Maya that. Are you sure you don’t want to take him to California with you?” Ginny jokes as she attempts to wrestle him into submission as he tries to escape and flee down the aisle.
“He’s just a little infatuated with her, that’s all. She’s good with him,” Jackson soothes, grabbing Benji by the back of his tiny suit jacket as he passes and pulling him back in his seat. “Behave, Benjamin. Tailors don’t throw fits in public.”
“Only in private,” Lenni says under her breath.
Benji’s Irish twin, Aspen, stares perplexedly at her brother as she clings to Jackson’s lapels. “Stop being bad, Benji!” she shouts at him before looking adoringly up at her father. “I’m a good girl, aren’t I, Daddy?”
“You sure are, princess,” he tells her, beaming with pride.
“Goo!” our one-year-old, Gabriella, screams with glee.
“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re good too,” Anders assures her.
“Tan mimada,” Mami whispers with a long drawl to Papi behind us.
Greta, whom Mami is teaching how to speak Spanish, makes a sound of agreement. “It’s okay, though, Lettie. They are just babies, after all.”
Anders and I look at each other, shaking our heads as we listen to our mothers converse. Greta has spent more time traveling back and forth with us since Roe passed away a year ago, just after Gabby was born. She and Mami made fast friends once they finally met.
“Did you remember to charge the camera?” I ask my husband, shifting Gabby on my lap. My eyes catch a familiar set of green orbs as I scan the students, looking for Maya.
“Yes, baby girl. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t miss a second of this.” He follows my gaze, tensing at my side for a moment before swinging an arm over the back of my chair. “How did their coffee date go?”
“It sounds like it went okay,” I answer, pulling my eyes away from Mick, who is sitting a few rows in front of us. “She’s trying, and he isn’t pushing her. I’m trying to stay out of it.”
Maya approached us last year, asking how we’d feel if she met Mick for coffee. The question took me completely by surprise because I wasn’t aware they were even talking. After the initial shock and anger at finding out they were communicating behind our backs, Anders and I told Maya we supported whatever she decided to do.
They started meeting once a month. Now they’re up to once a week .
She refuses to call him dad, even though she refers to Anders as such.
As the ceremony starts, I look around at the family we’ve created. Pure joy overwhelms me at my good fortune to have found such a supporting group of people, causing tears to line my lashes.
“Hey, you okay?” Anders nudges my shoulder with his hand, pulling me into his side.
“I’m fine.” I wipe them away as Gabby reaches up to place her chubby little hands on my cheeks. “I'm just overwhelmed. Maya is all grown up, and Gabby is just starting her life.” My eyes drift to Mick again, who is watching the stage with sheer pride. “We’re lucky, you know? Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if we’d made different choices. But I don’t think any other life could compare to this one.”
He smiles before kissing my temple and pulling my head to his shoulder. “I’d have fallen in love with you in every one of them, Carmela. It doesn’t matter what choices we might have or could have made. In every single outcome, it would have always been you.”
Smiling, I tilt my chin up to kiss him. “Always so cocky, smooth guy.”
“Nah, that’s just confidence, baby girl. And I’m confident you were always meant to be mine.”