Epilogue
Sophia
“Mmm,” Grant hummed as he glazed over the paper. His brow arched as he watched me squirm in the leather chair, my nipples pebbling more as his eyes drifted from my chest to my leather-bound wrists above my head. “Sure you want this?”
“Yes,” I answered, my cheek brushing my arm as I laid sideways and nodded my head. “Get over here and do it already.”
The corner of his lip hitched up. “Anythin’ my fiancée wants.” With the stencil in his hand, he walked over to me. I leaned into his warmth as it curled around the bare skin of my neck. His lips roamed, tracing lines he’d grown familiar with. “I love you, Peach.”
“I love you,” I whispered, turning my lips toward his. But right before I could touch him, he pulled back and let out a chuckle.
“If I kiss you now, I’ll be fuckin’ you next.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” I shifted my legs, pushing my ass out more, just enough to tease.
“A very bad thing.” He took a seat on his stool, groaning at the sight of my body. “Fuck me, darlin’.” He shook his head, picking up his gun and trying hard to focus on the inkwells he’d set up before I’d gotten naked and tied down to the chair.
When he spun back around, it was hard to not notice the bulge tenting his jeans, fightin’ to get free.
I focused on the way his veins shifted along his arms, the lines covered in ink making them faint, yet I knew exactly where they were.
I mentally traced them with my tongue, like I’d done almost every night since we’d been together.
Only, that had been physical, just like my growing need for him was.
“Stop makin’ those lil soft sounds or I swear you’ll end up with a half done name on your ribs.
” I smirked and made an exaggerated moan the moment his gun flipped on.
“You’re gonna kill me.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that as nerves fluttered low in my belly.
Grant’s palm smoothed over my taut skin, his fingertips kissing the side of my breast. “This is gonna hurt.”
“As long as you promise to make it all better after, I’m okay with a little pain.
” I glanced at the tip of the gun, inches from my skin, then looked at the marks I already had.
Since tattooing his teeth marks on my breast, he’d done it in a couple other places—between my thigh on my right leg, and up on my collar bone.
He also managed to cover and fix the marks Riyan had put on the first tattoo he’d given me.
None of those hurt, but none of them took longer than five minutes.
His eyes softened as he smoothed a thumb over the spot he was about to mark forever. “You’re really sure ’bout this?”
I arched my brow skeptically. “You questioning my choices? I thought you always said you wanted me to have those.”
“You and your mouth,” he groaned and shook his head. “Seriously, Peach.”
“Yes, Grant. I want it. But if you won’t do it, I could always ask Farrah. I’m sure she’d love to see—ow!”
He grinned as the needle and his precise hand went to work. His jaw worked with each of my winces and whines. It made me want to kiss him, to grab his face and tell him how much it meant for him to worry about me over something I begged him to do.
“How, uh—lo…ow,” I whined, sounding more pathetic than I’d intended.
He seemed to guess where I was goin’ with my question. “As long as you hold nice and still, I’ll be done in about twenty minutes.”
I took slow and steady breaths, trying not to move my ribs as Grant worked. The last time I’d seen him so focused was when he drew me that day at the cabin, when we were just us. Now, that was every day. Every single day I got to wake up to this man and fall back asleep in his arms.
I was the luckiest woman alive.
The gun clicked off, then a soft towel swiped over my skin. “Are you done already?”
“You must’ve zoned out there, gorgeous.” He smiled as he leaned over me. “It looks fucking perfect on you.”
I laughed just before he stole the breath from my lungs, kissing me deeply. “You should love it.”
“I do.” He stood back and admired his work, which turned into admiring the fact that I was still very naked and tied up.
“My Peach,” he growled low, reading his name along with the peach drawn beneath it.
I heard the pop of his jeans as I stared into his eyes—so full of lust and love, it tugged on my heart.
“Get over here and fuck your tied-up fiancée,” I said, making a twisted, sinful smirk form along his lips.
“Anythin’ my fiancée wants.” Boots clattered across the new, black marble floors, followed by the metallic sounds of a zipper as his jeans went next.
I marveled at the sight of him as his black boxer briefs were pushed down his thighs and kicked away, my stomach leaping at the words scrawled right above the looped piercing I loved feeling against my clit.
Sophia’s looked so damn good tattooed on his skin.
I twisted to lay on my back and spread my legs wide, baring myself to him. A firm stroke of his cock forced a needy plea to escape me, echoing between the industrial pipes along the ceiling. Grant climbed on top and slid all the way inside, my back arching to adjust to the sudden fullness.
“Atta girl,” he praised as tears prickled my eyes. Gentle kisses swept over my temples and cheeks before meeting my lips the moment he thrust back inside me. I screamed into his mouth as my legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.
But Grant seemed to have other plans. In seconds, the belts were freed, my wrists no longer strapped down.
It had been excessive to begin with, but I insisted, and he cooperated.
I found strength in knowing it drove him mad, so when he told me I’d need to keep my side stretched for a good tat, well… say no more, cowboy.
In a haze, I was flipped over to straddle him, his cock piercing making me squirm when I sank fully down.
“Fuuuckin’ hell, baby.” He reached up to grip the back of my neck and pulled me in for a searing kiss.
I rocked and swayed my hips, knowing he wanted me to take control.
When our lips broke, he pressed his forehead to mine as his thumb stroked over the new tattoo along my side.
“I will never get enough of you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, groaning as I moved slowly up and down his length.
“If we weren’t already engaged, I’d ask you to marry me again right now. ”
I grazed my nose over his playfully. “I’d say yes again in a heartbeat.
” His hands skimmed down my sides, stopping on my hips before digging his fingers in as he guided my clit over his other piercing.
I rocked back and forth as the metal toyed with my nerves, pushing me to the edge.
My lips fell back to his, our tongues and teeth and moans blurring into one as we both came apart.
Panting, I fell into the crook of his neck, never wanting to leave.
I turned to look up at him, resting my cheek on his chest. “Grant?” I whispered.
He cleared the curls stuck to my temple as warm, grey eyes met mine. “Peach?”
“You’re the best choice I ever made.”
Grant
2 years later
“Right…there! Stop!”
I froze, my fingers trembling as my beautiful wife looked up at me. Her head full of curls bounced to the side, her fingers forming L shapes while one of her eyes squinted, the other, closed.
“Peach,” I groaned. “You’re looking mad cute and all, but I don’t think this is gonna work.”
Sophia’s arms slapped down at her sides. Then, she sighed. “Yeah. Alright. Try tomorrow?”
“Sounds perfect.” I slid the pane of glass onto the roof, looking down at her through the massive hole she decided to cut. I think most men would’ve been pretty ticked off at their wife makin’ impromptu skylights, but I thought it was adorable, like everything else she did.
I wiped my hands and climbed down the ladder of our guest house. It was less a space for guests—mostly because we had plenty of that in our main house—and more a space for Sophia to find a hobby.
I told her shootin’ was just fine, but she insisted that wasn't safe anymore since we were now trying for kids.
“Welp,” I said as I stepped inside, glancing up at the hole from ground-level.
“It’s bad, I know.” Sophia covered her face with her hands, then peeked at me through her fingers. “You can yell at me, now. I deserve it.”
“What you deserve”—I started taking long strides toward her—“is this.” I scooped her up, forcing loud giggles to echo in the living room of the guest house. Carrying her over my shoulder, she smacked at my back, urging me to let her down. I tossed her on the couch, smirking down at her.
Sophia’s eyes glanced between me and the hole in the roof before a loud groan escaped her. “I can’t believe you just let me do this.”
“I don’t let you do a damn thing, remember?” I settled beside her on the couch, taking her up in my arms. “At least we’ll have a good view of the stars in about ten or so minutes.”
Sophia’s left hand met my cheek, the shift in her gorgeous blue eyes going between me and the ring I proposed with. Her features turned solemn. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”
I brought her hand to my lips. “Could say the same thing ’bout you, Peach.” Arguin’ with her over who was luckier to have the other was pointless. After two years, one of those being married, we still couldn’t find common ground on that.
I kissed her knuckles, then wrapped my arms around her. “This feels oddly familiar,” I murmured, resting my chin on her curls as she burrowed into my chest.
“Hmmm, maybe to you,” she answered, smoothing her fingers down the arm I had draped over her waist. “That night is still fuzzy for me.”
“Best night of my life.”
She playfully smacked my bicep. “Thought that night in the cabin was the best of your life.”
I pulled back and gripped her chin, bringing her gaze to meet mine. “Every night with you has been the best of my life.”
She smiled softly, then sighed. “I have a confession.”
My brows dipped. “What?”
“I know you said this would be my space, but I was thinking we could share it.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She wriggled, reaching behind her back.
When she pulled out a slightly crumpled joint and a matchbox, I helped her settle into the crook of my arm, both of us shifting to lay on our backs.
To my surprise, she placed the joint between my lips, nodding her head as she struck the match.
“You can draw in here, or paint. I’m thinking…
maybe a few pregnancy portraits? Could probably get a good one in a few weeks. ”
I started choking on the smoke filling my lungs and quickly ripped the joint from my mouth. “I’m gonna need you to repeat that, darlin’.”
Her eyes widened along with her grin. “Grant, you’ll be drawing me, pregnant with our first baby, in a few weeks.”
“As in…”
She nodded, her grin spreading more. “Yep.”
“Peach,” I said before capturing her lips with mine, smothering the joint between my two fingers to put it out. I set the joint behind me and wiped the ash from fingers on my jeans while still kissing her, then settled my hand on her stomach.
Our first baby.
I continued kissing her, tasting the salt from her tears along her cheeks. Possibly too abruptly, I reared back. “Wait, you knew you were carryin’ our child and you still climbed up on a ladder and cut a hole in the roof?”
“How else was I gonna get this view of the stars above this couch?”
I pulled her tightly to me, shaking my head. “You’re gonna kill me.”
We shifted once more, taking in the view of the thousands of stars splattered across the night sky. The sky our baby would grow up under, knowing they were safe and loved.
“I think I was kinda wrong back at the cabin.” My hand dropped back to her stomach, my chest tightening like a vise. “Now I’ve found my entire heart.”