Epilogue
After nursing and rocking my eight-month-old son, Noah, to sleep, I lower him into his crib. I can’t help but stare at him, smiling at his tiny parted lips and the fullness of his round cheeks. He has a little bit of both Blake and me in him, with his mop of dark curls and my brown eyes.
Giving birth to him was emotional for many reasons, including getting my first glimpse at the only biological family I have and seeing myself in another person’s features. I’m sure I’ll still stop short and take a moment to stare at him long after we’ve gone gray and wrinkled with age.
I blow him a kiss, then tip-toe out of his nursery, which used to be my bedroom. Blake never allowed me to sleep separately after the first night we were together, and we converted my bedroom after my OBGYN appointment confirmed my pregnancy, shocking all of us with how far along I was—nearly three months pregnant and entering my second trimester.
Thinking back, all the signs were there at the beginning—the nausea, trouble sleeping, and weight gain—but I never in a million years would have guessed they were due to being pregnant since I’d never had sex. Or so I thought.
Dr. Rodriguez questioned, out of curiosity, how I hadn’t known I was pregnant until I was so far along, but I couldn’t tell him that my obsessive stalker-slash-husband, who had dragged me down the courthouse to marry him just days after we figured out I was pregnant, had been secretly filling me with his cum every night. I’m sure he would have called the cops, which was the last thing I wanted.
Of course, that’s what I should have wanted if I wasn’t as crazy as Blake. Who in their right mind would have been turned on by Blake’s criminally insane behavior?
Me. That’s who.
It didn’t take me long to fall in love with Blake after that. To become as obsessed with him and his brand of all-consuming love once he dropped the tight leash on his feelings. He tells me all the time that my body and soul were made for him. The same is true of his body and soul—made for me.
Now, here we are, planning our future following my upcoming graduation from my junior college. I’ve decided to attend the nearest university to finish my bachelor’s degree. We’ve already chosen the area where we want to purchase our forever home and then fill said home with more children. In short, all my dreams are coming true—just not how I imagined they would.
I have just enough time to shower and hopefully get in a nap as well before Blake gets home from his meeting with a realtor. After growing his web design business and hiring a few more employees, he’s looking to open his first brick-and-mortar office between here and the university. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to study and do my homework once he’s no longer working from home, distracting me with his hard dick, waiting to pounce on each other as soon as Noah is asleep.
In the bathroom, I strip out of my T-shirt and nursing bra, wet from my leaking milk, and twist my hair up, securing it with a large claw clip so it doesn’t get wet. As always, I search for Blake’s hidden camera since he still won’t tell me where it is.
My stomach cramps when I finish stripping off the rest of my clothes and sit on the toilet with my knees spread to remove my tampon. I was one of the unlucky ones who got my period within two months of giving birth, and this one is particularly brutal.
When the bathroom fills with steam, I step into the large shower and remove the detachable shower head. Arching my back, I direct the powerful stream over my heavy breasts, then lower, over my belly and pelvis. I sigh, letting the hot water ease the ache. My hand dips a little too low when I step my feet out to wash between my legs and the stream brushes against my clit.
I gasp as my core tightens and, figuring I’ll give my husband a show in case he’s watching, I brace a foot on the jutting shower bench and intentionally flick my wrist back and forth to play with my clit. Coupled with the cup of tea I plan to have, an orgasm is exactly what I need to relieve my cramps and help me fall asleep faster.
Closing my eyes and pretending that it’s my husband playing with me, I moan, “Oh god, Blake, just like that.” I twist to sit on the bench so I can pull my knees up and brace my feet on the edge, then spread my pussy lips with my free hand and direct the stream to pound directly against my clit. “Yes, yes, yes, you always know how to make me feel so good.”
I scream and drop the shower head when there’s a thump on the tiled floor, and Blake buries his entire face in my pussy, rubbing his nose against my clit while he forces his tongue deep inside me. My scream is cut short by a moan when my husband yanks my ass closer and shoves a slick finger through my back hole.
He must have coated his hand with the massage oil he likes to use on me whenever he’s too rough, which is almost always. He just can’t control himself when it comes to fucking and filling me with his cum. He says the minute he gets his hands on me, his baser instincts compel him to claim me, and there’s no holding back.
I don’t mind. In fact, I encourage it by walking around the apartment in a T-shirt sans panties, pretending I’m the world’s clumsiest person so I can bend over and give him a view of my bare ass whenever I drop something. He’ll pace like a wild animal until Noah is out, then savagely force me over the edge of the couch, counter, or bed before driving into me.
Blake forces a second finger inside my ass, and I whimper, barely getting the words out when I ask, “When did you get home? Was your meeting canceled?”
He pulls back as he roughly fucks my ass, adding a third finger, his lips streaked with my blood. He licks it off with a growl, closing his eyes and dropping his head back like he’s savoring the taste.
“Yes, I canceled it the moment I saw you pull your tampon out, teasing me with your juicy pussy. Fucking raced home so I could clean you up with my tongue,” he says with a grin.
I knew it. Knew he’d be watching me like a hawk as soon as I told him I started my period. Why he’s so obsessed with it since I know he’s hell-bent on getting me pregnant again, I have no idea. But I won’t complain, not when he drops his face back in my pussy to eat me like a desert, quickening his pace with my ass and bringing me to a mind-blowing orgasm within a few short minutes.
As soon as it passes, Blake yanks his fingers out and cleans me up from one hole to the other with his tongue, just like he promised to do. He pulls me up, spins us so he can sit on the bench, and then yanks me down onto his lap to fill my pussy with his cock in one smooth move.
“Fuck, you make me so hot and thirsty, sweet mama,” he says before latching onto my right breast, increasing the suction to encourage my milk to let down and draining it while he helps me bounce on his dick. When he brings me to a second orgasm, he bangs his head back against the wall and digs his fingertips into my hips to hold me steady a few inches above his lap so he can pump up into me hard and fast until he cums with a guttural moan.
We’re both breathing hard when Blake wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. I make a face and twist to give him my cheek. He scowls. “You don’t want to kiss your man after bringing you two—two!—orgasms?”
“I love you, you dirty man, but no. No kisses until you brush your teeth.” I pat his shoulder and gingerly lift myself off his cock to stand on shaky legs so I can finish my shower since he’s made a mess of my lower half.
He doesn’t let me get far, sliding his hands up to circle my waist, which still hasn’t bounced back from my pregnancy. “$50.”
“What?”
“$50 for a kiss.”
I might not enjoy kissing him after he kisses my ass, but I do enjoy this particular game, even though I no longer need the money. What’s his is mine now that we’re married. I step between his knees and press my chest against his, hovering an inch away from his lips. “$100.”
Blake smirks. “Deal.”
I give him what he wants, then squirm when I feel his cum drip down my thighs. One more peck on the lips, and I attempt to step back. Blake slides his hands to my lower back as he scoots to the very edge of the bench and straightens. He smashes my lower belly against him, harder and harder, until the pressure becomes too much, making me squirm for a whole new reason.
I brace my hands on his muscular shoulders and push against his hold. “Blake…I need to—”
“I know what you need, sweet girl. $200.”
“No. That’s where I draw the line.”
“Please, baby. I know what you need, and you know what I want,” he croons, then slips one hand between us to flatten his palm over my lower abdomen, increasing the pressure.
I cringe and cross my legs at my ankles, clamping my thighs together. I’ve accepted many things about Blake and his kinks, but what he wants isn’t one of them. I shake my head and try to twist out of his hold.
“$300.”
“No, let me go.”
“$550. Please, baby. Be a good girl and give me what I want.” When I roll and bite my lips, he says, “$700. Final offer.” I raise a brow, and he groans. “Ok, $1000. I want to find out if it’s as sweet as the rest of you. Just one tiny little taste, please.”
When I can’t ignore the pressure in my core any longer, and he looks at me with those intense green eyes, baring himself and how much he wants this, I smile. “$2000.”
“Fuck yes!” He nudges my feet apart and maneuvers me backward so he can slide down to lie on the shower floor between them. He taps my calves and commands, “Squat on my face.”
My belly flutters at how giddy he is as I lower myself over him. Gripping my ass, he readjusts my position, then tells me to brace my hands on the bench. He smiles wide and licks his lips, looking like a kid in a candy shop, darting his eyes from my face to my pussy and back again.
After a few minutes, when my legs start to shake with the strain of holding my position and nothing happens, he asks, “Do you need a little help?”
I huff and nod. Flames ignite in Blake’s gaze, making my overly sensitive clit pulse with anticipation. The angle is awkward, but his arms are long enough that he can press one hand against my back and one against my lower belly. He squeezes me until I feel the first trickle, and the building pressure finally releases.
Blake moans and turns his head from side to side, reveling in our first golden shower. Surprise flickers through my thoughts as I bare down and rock my hips. Am I…am I into this? Maybe it’s not the actual act, but the dominance and power I hold over my stalker in these moments. I’m in control of his pleasure when he’s usually in control of mine.
My husband gasps when I slip my fingers through his hair and grip the thick, wet strands when I plop down on his open mouth after the stream slows to a trickle again. “Eat my pussy, sweet boy, and make me cum.”
His answering growl of desire vibrates through my core as he licks and sucks and eats me until I orgasm for a third time. I shift back to sit on his chest and comb my fingers through his hair, then lovingly brush the back of my fingers across his cheek.
“You did such a good job cleaning me up, dirty boy.”
Blake’s eyes flare wide before he jackknifes up and palms the back of my head so it doesn’t crack against the tiles when he flips me over onto my back beneath him.
“I was right. Everything about you is sweet.”
I squeal when he rolls me over onto my stomach and yanks me up onto my hands and knees, then scream at the sudden intrusion when he forces half his cock, slick with more massage oil, into my ass. He must have been planning this all along, prepping my hole with his three fingers earlier.
Confused when he freezes in place instead of forcing the rest of it in, I peek over my shoulder. His face is twisted with pain while a thick vein bulges and pulses on the side of his neck. “What’s wrong?”
“Another $1000”
I narrow my eyes, hesitantly asking, “To do what?”
“Say yes, please, please, please.”
“Say yes to what?” I demand.
“Baby,” he pleads with me, panting. “Be a good girl, and say yes.”
I’m not one hundred percent sure what it is that he wants, but I trust Blake with my body—despite all the crazy stunts he pulled before we were officially together—and I finally tell him, “Yes.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how happy you make me. Such a good girl for your man,” he says, making my heart swell. I love being his good girl.
But when he doesn’t move a muscle, I count to sixty, then count again, shivering since I’m not in the direct stream of hot water. “Um, are you ok?”
“Shh. Trying to concentrate.”
“Concentrate on what?”
“It’s almost impossible when I’m this hard. Hurts so good.”
“What does?”
“This,” he says, his mouth dropping open with a long, deeply satisfied sigh as he grips my hips firmly and fills my backside with liquid heat that jets into me and splashes out, spilling down my thighs. As soon as he loosens his grip, I lurch forward, and his cock falls out of my ass. He yanks my hips back, then spreads my cheeks as he leans down behind me. “Fuuuuuuuck me, pretty girl.” He straightens and gapes at me when our eyes connect, worship swirling in his green depths. “Hottest fucking thing I’ve seen since you gave birth.”
“Did you…did you pee inside me?” I scream the question.
“Fuck yes, I did. And you loved it, didn’t you?” I wiggle my backside and bite my bottom lip. “I knew it,” he yells in victory and then shoves the full length of his fat cock in my ass, fucking me furiously until we cum simultaneously.
I thought I was wrung out before, but it’s nothing compared to this level of satiation and exhaustion as I slump on the shower floor, my eyes drifting shut, reminiscent of our first week together. I’m hardly aware of Blake massaging and washing my body, paying special attention to between my legs. I almost lose consciousness when he snakes a hand beneath me to massage my clit, thanking me and praising me for being a good girl, a sweet wife, and a wonderful mother about a million times as he brings me to a fifth and final orgasm.
Afterward, he lifts me out of the shower, sets me on the bathroom counter so we can brush our teeth, and then carries me to our bedroom. A cry from the nursery pricks my awareness, but Blake lays me down in the middle of our bed and gives me a peck on the lips.
He whispers, “I’ll get Noah. You sleep. I know you need your rest. Love you, pretty girl.”
A smile tugs up the corner of my lips when my husband draws the blanket over me. “Love you, too, sweet stalker.”
—THE END—