Epilogue
Ariana
F orty-seven.
I shove another handful of popcorn in my mouth. Starting in the standard push-up position again, Luca lowers himself to the ground, bringing his right knee out and up to touch his elbow as he goes before raising back up.
Forty-eight.
The way his ass moves as he switches to his bend his left knee has me hypnotized. My panties are done for.
Forty-nine.
It’s official. Spiderman pushups are my favorite pushups.
Fifty.
He climbs to his feet, sweat glistening on his tattooed back. His lips pull up into a cocky smirk as he turns around and makes his way toward me. My eyes bounce around. There’s so much to look at; chiseled abs, the V that disappears into his gym shorts, that sexy eyebrow, the outline of his semi-hard cock… and the evidence of what happened only a couple of months ago. The wounds are still tr ansitioning to scars, and his nose is a little more crooked than it was before, but it all looks good on him.
My gaze drifts to the ink over his heart. My words. My handwriting. My name.
I’m all over him. The necklace claiming him as my property hangs from his neck. He wears beaded bracelets around both wrists for me to fidget with. His pink wedding ring catches the light as he runs his hand through his hair.
Our last name is tattooed on both of his pinkies. His right bicep is covered in bright baked goods. He says he’s not done adding me to his body.
The man is the living embodiment of ‘Obsessed With My Wife.’
I’m not mad about it.
He leans over to pick up the bottle sitting next to me on the floor and his eyebrows pinch together in confusion.
“Did you drink some of my water, baby?”
“I, uh, got thirsty.” I also got a piece of popcorn stuck in my throat when he was doing some kind of ‘fuck-the-air-hip-thrust’ thing earlier. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“Hmmm.” Raising the bottle to his lips, he tilts it up and finishes it off. His throat bobs as he swallows, and I bite my lip. Setting my bowl on the floor, I reach up and he helps me to my feet. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to me. Our tongues tangle as I dig my fingers into his hair. He groans and kisses me deeper as his dick hardens against my stomach.
“Let’s jump in the shower,” he says, his lips still touching mine as he motions toward the bathroom.
Shaking my head, I drag his shorts and boxers down as I drop to my knees while holding his gaze.
“Ari—”
“I want you like this, Beefcake. Right here. Please. ”
It’s risky. And probably stupid. Definitely stupid. Anyone could walk in the gym and see us. Locking ourselves in the bathroom is a much smarter idea.
But we don’t claim to be fucking smart.
He’s frozen, watching me. I lick the underside of his cock, moaning at the extra-salty taste of him.
“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath, briefly closing his eyes before they lock on mine again. “You like that, Minx? You like when I’m sweaty?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly. Never once has he made me feel weird or bad about wanting to try something. Even when it doesn’t go the way we expect it will. Exploring kinks with someone you trust fully is so fucking empowering. I lick him again, from base to tip, then take him in my mouth.
His head drops back, and his hips buck. “Shit. Fuck. Sorry, baby.” He tries to pull back, but I dig my fingertips into his ass, keeping him there. I use my tongue, my teeth, my lips on him until he’s clenching his jaw. “You want me to come down your throat?”
I pop his dick out of my mouth. “Yes. But I want you to fuck my face first.”
His eyes go even darker than they already are. “Open your mouth, brat.”
I do, and he slips his cock back between my swollen lips. He wraps my ponytail around his hand, gently but firmly, and does exactly as I asked him to. Tears stream down my face as he comes with a grunt, filling my throat and mouth with his cum. Swallowing him down, I lick every drop off his dick before he pulls me to my feet and up into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist as he steps out of the clothes at his feet. His mouth collides with mine, and I don’t notice we’re moving until he sets me down next to the fighting ring on the other side of the room.
He helps me out of my leggings and then buries his face between my thighs, breathing me in through my panties. Fuck, I love when he does that. Hooking his fingers between the fabric and my skin, he pulls them down and sort of slingshots them.
“Did you just yeet my thong?”
Ignoring my question, he shoots me a smoldering look. “Up in the ring. I want you on your hands and knees.” His tone is demanding.
I’ll allow it. Feeling brave and praying no one walks through the door anytime soon, I yank my shirt, which is really one of his shirts, up over my head and toss it on the floor before unhooking my bra and dropping it.
His eyes follow my movements. “Fuck, you’re so goddamned gorgeous.”
I believe it when he says it. Because he truly sees me that way, scars and all. I turn and climb up onto the floor of the fighting ring and start to crawl under the bottom rope. Luca wraps his hands around my thighs, pulling me back until my knees are at the edge and slightly spread apart. The… what the fuck is this thing called? The part outside the ropes. Is it an apron? That’s a stupid name for it, but I think that’s what it is. Whatever it is, it’s wide, so I fit on it without the rope being in my way.
“Look right, baby.”
Turning my head, my eyes meet his in the mirrors on the wall. He stands behind me, his hands on my hips. We’ve fucked in our bathroom and other bathrooms all over this house, multiple times, and obviously there’s mirrors in them. But this… this is different. I haven’t even paid attention to the mirrors before.
I’m paying attention now.
“Is this okay?” he asks. He offered to smash every mirror in the place when I told him what set off that hoodie day in the middle of family movie night. But the scars don’t bother me as much as they did before he kissed them all that first time.
My voice is raspy when I answer. “Yes.”
Luca holds my gaze as his hands slide across my skin. They skim along my ass, down the outside of my legs, and then back up my inner thighs.
My breathing is already labored, but when he cups my pussy in his palm, I damn near mewl.
“You’re fucking drenched for me.”
“Luca,” I whine, arching my back to push against his hand.
“Cheek on the floor,” he growls.
I suck in a stuttered breath before we both watch in the mirror as I lower my upper body and press my cheek to the canvas.
“Eyes on that mirror, Ariana. I want you to see how stunning you are when I drive you out of your fucking mind.”
Holy shit. I can’t see him well from this angle, but it’s not him I’m supposed to watch anyway. I feel his hands move again until they grip my ass. His fingertips dig into my flesh in a way I know will leave the little bruises I love. His hands slide down a few inches, and he spreads me open. The moan that leaves his lips sends shivers down my spine and drips of my arousal down the inside of my thighs.
He exhales, blowing cool air across my exposed pussy, and a wave of pure ecstasy runs through my body. “Again,” I whimper.
“What was that, Minx?”
“Please,” I beg. “Again. I need it again.”
Chuckling deeply, he obliges with another puff of air. My core clenches around nothing, and more wetness drips from it. I wonder if he could make me come just by doing that. I bet he could.
But not today. I gasp when he laps at the wetness on my thighs. Then, with his hands still holding me open, he presses his face against me from behind and drives his tongue inside me. Every thrust has me closer to release, but before I get there, he moves his attention to my clit, licking lazy circles around it.
I let out a low, needy growl.
“Are you still watching? ”
“Yes,” I breathe. I can’t look away.
“Good. Keep watching while you soak my face.”
I watch my eyes go wide as he sucks on my clit. I watch my mouth fall open. When he presses his tongue in just the right spot, the pressure bursts, and a flood of wetness rushes out of me. A sob escapes my lips as I watch myself go crashing over the side of Cliff Orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure sweeps through me, drawn out by the attention he continues to lavish on my clit. The slurping sounds he makes while his lips move against me are positively filthy in the most delightful way.
When he’s licked me clean, teeth nip at my ass.
“In the ring, baby.”
Lost riding a bliss cloud, my brain doesn’t comprehend what he means. “What?”
“Up into the ring.”
“You want me to move right now? I’m made of jello or pudding, Luca.”
I yelp when he bites a little harder. He soothes the spot with his tongue before speaking again. “I’m going to fuck you in the middle of this ring while we both watch. So yes, I want you to move right now.”
“Well, okay then.” I crawl forward, watching him in the mirrors as he climbs up onto the floor of the ring and follows me to the center of the canvas.
Even though I just came hard, the anticipation has me feeling feral. Wild. I rub my thighs together, trying to find some relief. They’re slick, evidence of how fucking turned on I am dripping down them again. My body sways, unable to stay still. It’s all getting to be too much.
“Breathe, baby.”
Oh, yeah. I’m not doing that very well. Luca grabs me by the hips. His hands skate over my skin, grounding me. Calming me just enough to not get lost but not so much that I lose my lady boner. I meet his slightly concerned gaze in the mirror and give him a reassuring smile. “I’m good, Beefcake. You always know what I need.”
His eyes are glued to me, checking for any hint that I’m full of bullshit. The man knows me pretty fucking well, so I don’t blame him because I’m a dirty liar sometimes. But I’m not lying now and after another moment, the worry drops away, replaced by hunger.
Positioning himself behind me, he sinks his cock into my pussy, buried to the hilt in one thrust. My gasp quickly transitions into a moan, and I push back into him.
“I’ve been imagining this since the first time I saw you in those damn mirrors at the dance studio.” He fucks me hard, his hips snapping against my ass with every thrust. “See how good you take my cock?”
He doesn’t look away. Neither do I.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me upright on my knees, my back flush against his front. I gasp at the new angle. At the new image reflecting back at us. He slides his free hand to my clit, pressing circles in it as he pumps his hips.
I’m so close. My eyelids flutter shut, and his body goes still. “You keep your eyes on that mirror when my cock’s inside you, Ariana. Or I won’t let you come.”
Whimpering, I blink a few times and meet his gaze in the glass. “That’s not fair,” I moan. Reaching up behind me, I tangle my fingers in his hair and give it a rough tug.
He groans and throws his head back at the mix of pleasure and pain.
I freeze. “Eyes on the mirror when my pussy’s wrapped around your cock, Luca.”
His eyes snap back to mine. “You want me to wreck this cunt, baby?”
“You can try. Remember, it’s magic.”
“Fucking brat,” he says against my ear, a hit of amusement in his voice. He moves his hand from my clit to my nipple, pinching hard as he starts thrusting again. Trusting him to keep me from falling over, I slide the hand not in his hair down to my clit. Only seconds later, Luca’s hand covers my mouth just before I scream, my pussy clenching around his cock as I come so hard dark spots dance in front of my eyes. His teeth sink into my shoulder when he stills, muffling his cry when he finds his release.
I sag in his arms, spent. His cock slips free, followed by a gush of our combined cum. We never think about how messy we make things when we start these mini-fuckfests. He lowers us both onto the canvas, panting and half-dead. Well, I’m half dead. And half asleep. Luca’s still Luca and his superpower is bouncing back after sex, so it isn’t long before he’s carrying me across the gym and into the bathroom. I’m not even sure how he got me out of the ring.
The shower isn’t nearly as big as ours, but it has a bench along the back wall all the same. Luca sets me on it gently, always treating me like treasure except for when he’s treating me like his own personal fucktoy. I love being both things to him.
He kisses my forehead and turns on the water, making sure it doesn’t reach me until it’s warm enough. I know he gets hit with a blast of cold, but he doesn’t flinch or complain. He rinses his face and body quickly before saying, “I’m going to grab our clothes and clean up really quick. Stay here. I’m coming right back.”
“Mmmkay.” I smile and lean against the wall to wait for him. He enjoys taking care of me, and I rarely deny him the opportunity to do so. I’m pretty sure I fall asleep sitting up, but then Luca’s back, carefully washing me with the bottle of his body wash he keeps here.
“Shit,” he mumbles when he gathers up my hair to work shampoo through it.
“Hmm?” I can stand now, but I’m still reduced to just making noises. I moan as he lathers it into my scalp. Washing my own hair just isn’t the same. I try not to do it myself anymore unless he’s watching. Watching me always makes him hard.
“I bit you too fucking hard,” he grumbles.
I shrug. “Can’t be worse than the hickey I gave you right before our wedding.”
“Fuck, the one you gave me last night is worse than that one was. But I need to be more careful with you.” He shakes his head, silently berating himself.
I take his face in my hands. “Luca, you haven’t left a mark on me I haven’t wanted. Haven’t loved.”
He doesn’t look convinced. But I’m not letting it go. “How does it make you feel when you have to put your hand over my mouth? When you make me come so hard I can’t move or speak for like ten minutes?”
“You know how it makes me feel,” he growls, digging his fist into my sudsy hair.
“Yeah, because it’s the same way I feel when you lose control a little bit. You’ll never hurt me, Luca. Not for real.”
“Never,” he vows.
“But I like the evidence you leave behind when you love me.”
His fingers graze one of my scars before moving to the terrible heart on my side and then the tiny star on my collarbone I got two weeks ago. “Something you choose to wear on your skin,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
I lightly skim my finger over one of his scars. Then I run my whole hand down his colorful bicep. “Yes. I choose to wear you. As many ways as I can. Just like you choose to wear me.” I drag my hand up to the hickey on his neck. “I like that they’re not all permanent. That we can choose to wear each other over and over again.”
“I’ll always choose you, Minx.”
I grin up at him. “I’ll always choose you, too, Beefcake. Now, can you please rinse out my hair? My head is starting to itch like a motherfucker.”
Chuckling, he does just that. When we’re squeaky clean, he wraps me in a fluffy towel, dries me off, and helps me into my clothes. Minus the thong I stuff into my pocket.
Grabbing what’s left of my popcorn, I make my way upstairs while he stops by the kitchen for ‘real food.’ I drop onto the couch next to Lil and hold the bowl out to her.
“Finally. I’ve been waiting for you so I can start this fucking episode.”
“I would be lying if I said sorry.”
She snickers and takes a handful of popcorn. “Where’d you horndogs bang this time?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Nothing on that stage looks like cake,” I declare.
“Two has to be the cake.”
“Nah, I think it’s three.”
A minute later, she grumbles as she hands me the locket just as Luca comes in carrying a plate full of sandwiches. “Didn’t we watch this last night, baby?”
Lil turns toward me, glaring. “You cheating asshat!”
I scowl at Luca. “Really? I specifically said, ‘Don’t tell Lil I watched this without her. I’m getting the goddamned locket back,’ Luca!”
He shrugs, unbothered. “You were naked. I can’t be expected to remember shit when you’re naked.”
“Why were you watching Is It Cake? naked?” Lil holds up her hand as soon as the words are out of her mouth. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Give me the locket back.”
“Make me.”
“Fucking hell,” Luca mumbles, sitting far away from us on the other side of the couch .
Lil pounces, but I’m ready for it and slither onto the floor and under the coffee table just in time. She comes after me, grabbing me by the foot before I can crawl out the other side. When she tickles my foot, I bolt upright, smacking my head on the wood with a clunk. “Ooooof. Ow. Okay, I give up.”
She drops my foot, and we drag ourselves out from under the table on opposite ends. Luca’s arms are crossed over his chest as if he’s dealing with annoying toddlers.
Lil holds her palm out. I raise my hand with my fingers crossed. “Oh, look at that!” I drop my pointer, leaving just my middle finger up, and take off running.
She catches me a minute later, and really I’m in no shape to fight after the extracurricular activities in the gym, so she gets the fucking locket back from me. Luca’s waiting for us only semi-patiently when we flop onto the couch side by side, huffing and puffing. “Are you done yet? I can’t remember what the fuck is cake and what isn’t.”
“Maybe stop watching TV with a naked Ariana,” Lil says, reaching for a sandwich.
Luca laughs and moves to sit next to me. “Maybe no.”
“Good answer, Hot Stuff.”
Lil starts the show back up. Luca hands me a sandwich, then pulls a blanket over my lap and kisses my temple.
I settle in between my two soulmates, right where I belong.