Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Fletcher
T wo Weeks Later
“Just one more, baby. Tell me which role you want to play,” I coaxed.
“Fletcher, our guests are waiting,” my brand-new bride protested, although she didn’t move from where I had her pinned against the wall, beautifully disheveled, in the honeymoon suite of our hotel.
“They can wait,” I dismissed. “I paid a fuck-ton to keep them entertained. They can damn well give me another half hour with my bride.”
The number of VIP guests who’d dropped everything to RSVP yes to our wedding invitation had left Emily awestruck.
In a ballroom several floors below, we were hour three into a ten-hour soiree chock-full with activities.
Hell, just last night a stunned Emily had announced that our mothers had even worked in half-hour spa recovery treats to ensure our guests would be refreshed at various intervals through the evening and night.
I held back a smile every time she gasped when confronted with another facet of my mother’s determination to turn our wedding into the most talked-about event in Chicago for decades to come.
In the past two weeks Emily and her family had learned that the Knights didn’t half-ass anything they set their minds to. She’d groaned in mock despair while confessing to knowing where I inherited my boundless stamina from.
I didn’t admit that my addiction to her fueled a large portion of my motivations.
And the fact that she was beginning to steadily match it? Pure heaven on earth. Sure, I doubted she would catch up in this lifetime, but we had many more.
“Answer my question, baby.”
“Scullery maid and lord of the manor, please.” Her swift response told me she’d been prepared for this, had probably held this one back specially for tonight.
And even with her head bent forward, I saw the deep blush creeping up her cheek. The corner of her plump lower lip caught between her teeth. And I knew if I tugged up her chin and forced her gaze up, I’d see the wild flame of anticipation in her eyes.
Sure enough, it went straight to my cock, robbing me of breath. “Jesus, Emily. You’re going to kill me before we make it to the honeymoon, aren’t you?”
We were headed out to a private Caribbean Island oasis for a week, courtesy of a grateful client, and I couldn’t wait to fuck my wife on a beach while the waves lapped at my balls.
“Are you saying you can’t keep up, My Lord?”
Predictably, the dare lit my competitive fuse.
Stepping back from the wall, I yanked her hips back into my groin. I ripped her panties off the second we entered the suite, but she still had her white garter and stocking set and the sky-high heels, and my dick throbbed just staring at the spectacular vision she made.
“Why did you seek me out tonight, girl? Don’t you know I have better things to do than cater to the whims of cheeky little maids?” I made my voice brusque, became the brutish lord she desired.
Her shiver and gasp said I’d hit the right note.
“I…I’m so sorry, My Lord. I wasn’t being cheeky, I just…I just wanted your guidance.”
“On what? Speak up, and quickly, I don’t have time to waste.” I rolled my engorged flesh through her wetness.
“O-on how to be a good wife, Your Grace. My husband”—fuck how I loved that term on her lips—“Mr. Knight is a good man, you see. And I want to b-be the best wife I can be.” Her sweet, whimpering voice threatened to send me into orbit, and I needed every ounce of self-control I could scrape together to not erupt in that moment.
I caressed a hand down her arched back. “I see. I have a few minutes to spare. Are you prepared to take instruction?”
“Y-yes, My Lord.”
“Good girl. Now the first thing you need to do is make sure your husband is well satisfied. Do you know what that means?”
She shook her head. “N-no, Your Grace.”
I hooked my hand around her right thigh and tucked it over my arm. With my left hand I traced the pulse at her throat, over her clavicle and down to the breast I bared twenty minutes ago when I ate her out while she held up her wedding dress.
That had been my fantasy, multiplied a thousand-fold when I watched her walk down the aisle towards me, a vision of loveliness I still couldn’t believe was mine for always.
The dress was still bunched up high, held in her tight grip and she shivered as I tweaked her nipple.
Looking down, I caught sight of her glistening pussy, and my dick jumped, eager to join the fantasy.
“It means you will spread these beautiful thighs every time your husband wants. Will you do that, girl?”
“Oh y-yes, Your Grace. I will.”
I freed her nipple to run my hand over her creamy ass, between her cheeks to the puckered rosebud between. “And sometimes, he might even want to have some husband time in here.”
She bit her lip again and blinked, looking charmingly unsure. “Y-Your Grace…is that allowed?”
“If your husband wants it then it’s allowed. Will you let him fuck your ass when it pleases him?”
Her head bobbed frantically. “If you believe it’s right and proper, then yes I will, My Lord.”
Fuck . I pressed my thumb in and hissed at the resistance of it. We hadn’t gotten around to anal, but I suspected it was only a matter of time. A honeymoon delight. “Say the words, girl.”
“I-I will let my husband fuck my ass w-whenever he desires.”
Pre-cum jetted from my tip and I had to shut my eyes for a frantic minute to stagger back from the edge.
Tremors rolled through me, and I knew I needed to fuck her in the next minute or I’d fucking die.
I moved my hand around to the front, strummed her clit, reveled in her hitched cries and delicious whimpering.
“Now for the most important part. Pay attention, girl.”
Her head bobbed again.
“It’s very important that you take your husband’s fat cock all the way every time he fucks you. That will make him the happiest man in the world,” I crooned.
A tiny wail left her lips. “But, Your Grace. I s-saw him once, down by the river, when he was tending the horses. His britches were wet and…and well…he’s so b-big. Almost as big as your stallion.”
“And you think that could be a problem, young lady?” I grind out. “Because this pussy is so tight and tiny?”
Her head came up slowly and she turned to meet my eyes. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her wide eyes brimmed with innocence.
She was fully into the role and so gorgeous with it, I would’ve fallen on my knees for her if I wasn’t intent on playing my part to the fullest.
“Not if you show me. Please, will you show me, My Lord? Teach me how to take a fat cock?”
Fuuuuuck!
I gritted my teeth tight. Used the pain rippling through my jaw to ground myself before I did something disgraceful, like ejaculate on the carpet before I made it inside the most addictive pussy on earth.
“Of course, anything for my obedient little servant.”
I gripped myself, swiped it between her puffy lips, hissed out a breath when I felt how wet she was. “It’s imperative that you always be this wet before you take your husband, young Emily. Wetter even, you understand?”
Her hands scrabbled against the wall, her breathing frenzied. “I do, My Lord.”
“And never forget, showing your pleasure gives him pleasure. So you scream, you scratch, and you bite. Wearing your marks will be his honor. Now are you ready to take this fat cock? Will you be a good girl for your lord and master?”
“Yeeee— heavens!”
I thrust hard and deep and she screamed again. Her pussy clamped tight around me, and I marveled at how it was possible when I fucked her hard only a half hour ago. How I had gone from embittered divorcee to the happiest man alive in a sublime blink of an eye.
“What was that, little lamb? I didn’t quite hear your promise,” I grunted as I reared back and slammed home, exquisite resistance making way for my invasion.
“Y-yes, My Lord. I promise. I’ll be such a good girl for my husband and take his fat cock whenever— ah! sweet mercy …whenever he wishes.”
I stroked in and out, my vision slowly dimming at the edges as pleasure gathered like a dark storm, closer, closer, sweeping through me until the only thing in existence was my cock, her pussy. Our love.
I dropped her leg and banded both arms around her waist, pinning to me as I thrust, thrust, thrust .
“And when he’s ready, will you let him drain his balls, take all his cum into this gorgeous little cunt? Keep it safe to make fat, gorgeous babies?” I snarled, a wild animal for her.
Her pussy clenched tighter, her own climax rushing closer. “Always. I’ll be such a good girl little whore for his cum, Your Grace.”
“Ah God! Oh…fuck, Emily! Come with me, baby. Please,” I begged.
Thunder boomed, then lightning struck as she screamed. “Fletcher!”
“Yes! Fuck, yes!” I followed a nanosecond later, and together we shattered into useless, bliss-drunk pieces.
I curled myself around her, braced one hand on the wall so I didn’t crush her, and we stayed there, propped and spent as our convulsions wrung every last dreg of pleasure from our bodies.
“Fuck, that was the best one yet,” I croaked when I could put words together.
“It was,” she sighed. “You make it better every time.”
When Emily’s hand found my jaw, traced my cheek with a sweet sigh, I kissed her palm.
“You know, Mrs. Knight, I have spoken to your husband. I know he adores the ground you walk on. He loves you, so very, very much. He intends to make you the happiest woman on earth.”
She turned her head, and my heart leapt when I saw the joy shining in her beautiful eyes. “I love you, too. Fletcher. I can’t wait for the rest of our lives.”
The End