Epilogue
Hunter
The key to happiness is finding the person who takes your demons and dances them into the light.
M y apartment is quiet when I enter with Mark hot on my heels, muttering about his new charge and how she is cramping his style. I smirk. Rose is going to run rings around him, and I am here for the show.
There’s no raven-haired goddess commanding the world from her keyboard or dog matching her crazy to greet us. I spy the neat pile of dog toys she delights in buying for him on a daily basis. Damn dog has never been so spoiled.
This has been our routine for the last four months, and it’s jarring to not be greeted by them. Maybe Cheryl persuaded them to help at the bakery. Eleanor refuses to touch the kitchen but is happy enough to work front of house and sell to the locals. They have slowly chipped away at her shell, and she’s letting her true self out into the world, piece by piece. Unsurprisingly, they accept her. Eleanor is disarming, awe inspiring, and perfect. She’s slowly realizing this, but we have some way to go. Jonathan’s death was just the first step to healing the wounds of her childhood. Losing your mother twice will have an impact, since both times were to protect her daughter. The guilt weighs Eleanor down, but Gail is doing an excellent job at reframing those thoughts. I’m just the lucky guy that gets to come home to her each and every night.
I drop my keys on the counter and move to the refrigerator, more annoyed than I want to admit from the silence of the apartment.
“You want a beer?” I ask.
“Sure. Where’s Ellie?” Another guy she’s won over.
That’s a very good question. My hand freezes on the handle and all thoughts of beer evaporate. A picture of Eleanor sits in the middle of the door. She’s wearing a deep red satin bra of sorts, although it doesn’t actually cover her tits. The only coverage is the matching satin bow tied over her nipples.
I have a present for you.
Oh, Jesus. My cock rises in anticipation at the words spelled out under it. Mark whistles behind me, and I snatch the picture and hold it against my chest. “Out,” I snap, whirling around and pushing him towards the door.
“Dude! I just came for a beer.”
I yank open the fridge, grab a bottle, and thrust it into his hands. “There’s your beer, now get out.” I herd him toward the door and kick my giggling best friend out before slamming the door in his face.
I stalk down the hallway toward our bedroom, following the sultry music playing from the speakers in our room. “Ellie, you are in so much trouble.”
Throwing open the door to the darkened room, I’m welcomed with a scene that almost brings me to my knees. Stars move slowly across the room, projected from a tiny machine tucked in the corner near the closet, while sprawled across the comforter with her hair fanned out around her is Eleanor, wearing a pair of matching panties with crisscrossing strips of satin attached to her bra. Red lace-topped stockings encase her toned legs, showcasing her subtle power. Her lips, painted in the same shade, curl into a smile, and my cock begs to be painted to match. She is a goddess, and one I will worship for all the years to come.
I lean my shoulder against the bedpost, folding my arms and drinking my fill. The woman I get to call mine steals my breath each and every day, and I bite my cheek, reminding myself this is real. Her hands skim her breasts, the outline of those pretty piercings under the satin a tantalizing tease.
“You looking for permission, Mr. King?”
No, I’m looking for the fortitude to not come in under twenty seconds.
“The star machine is pretty,” I tell her, and her eyes flash with challenge. Taunting Eleanor Austin is a dangerous game, but it keeps me on my toes.
She smirks. Good girl. Don’t take my bait. Truth is, she has me wrapped around her dainty fingers, and that’s okay because I know my heart is safe. Her legs part, and she trails her fingers over the bow across her pelvis. I’m fucked. Utterly fucked. Forget twenty seconds—one touch and I am going to be done. It’s clear with one tug I’ll have access to her pussy, meaning I get to fuck her in this. I swipe a hand down my face. Pull it together, King, and worship her like she deserves.
I unbuckle my belt and deepen my voice. “Put your hands above your head, trouble, widen your legs, and don’t fucking move.”
She licks her lips and follows my instruction. The trust she puts in me is humbling, something I’ll never take for granted, and I’ll keep pushing her toward the stars.
I tug my shirt off and drop my jeans and boxers to the floor. She fucks me with her heated gaze, twisting her hands together as she battles with her need to touch me. “Do you need them tied?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not tonight.”
I crawl onto the bed, nestling between her legs and running my nose along the inside of her thigh. Fuck, she smells divine. My fingers toy with the bow on her panties. Not yet. I force myself to kiss up her stomach, my teeth catching on the end of the satin between her breasts and pulling the bow apart. Her full tits spill out, and I torment them until she writhes beneath me with restless passion. Every so often, I rub my cock over the silky material between her legs, enjoying the moans and pleas spilling from her mouth. Do I make her come before, or during? Her hands dig into my hair, and she skims her lips against my ear, whispering words which undo me completely.
“Tell me something you’ve always wanted that you’ve never had the confidence to ask for. Something you touch yourself to in the middle of the night. Something that makes your cock throb.”
Fuck.
ELEANOR
Love takes time; sometimes days, occasionally weeks. And if you are very lucky, it persists into months and years.
He shudders in my arms at the words he often says to me. He takes my fantasies and makes them come true. It takes courage to ask for the things you want and patience from the right person—but oh, the payoff... It’s something I want to give back to him.
He presses his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes. “The plug you bought months ago.” He’s played with my ass plenty, but hasn’t fucked me there yet—but we’re working up to it. If this is something he wants tonight, I will give it to him.
“Okay,” I murmur, my voice raspy with desire and a little trepidation.
He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me long, hard, and slow, his tongue flicking against mine in a sensual rhythm I’m restless to feel inside of me.
He pulls away to open the drawer next to his side of the bed. He must have moved it there. Our toy collection is scattered in various places across the apartment. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen... but also outside of our home—his office, my car... anywhere and everywhere we might end up naked.
He drops the bottle of lube on the bed, followed by a small metal bulbous shaped plug. Wait...
“Be gentle with me, trouble. This isn’t something I’ve done before.”
My core clenches, and I squeeze my thighs together. Fuck.
He lies on his stomach next to me, his head on his arms and a cheeky grin on his face. He knows what he did.
Dragging my bottom lip between my teeth, I flip over and straddle the back of his thighs, spending some time kissing and running my tongue down his spine. He shifts beneath me, clearly getting some friction from the comforter. Dropping some lube between his ass cheeks, I take my time working one, then two, fingers inside him, mimicking what he’s done to me. He groans low when I press on a certain point and starts to push back against my hand. A smirk lifts my lips, anticipation thrumming through me. Good enough.
I grab the plug and start to work it inside slowly, holding my breath as I wait for his reaction.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Definitely should have taken a minute to take the edge off before this.”
There’s a glorious feminine sense of power in making this man purr for me. He gives me everything I ask for, and so much more. How did I ever think I was living before now?
The toy finally lodges inside, and we are both panting. Is this how he feels doing these dirty things to me? Cocking my head to the side, I enjoy the soft glint from the stars. Because I get it.
He suddenly turns under me, grabbing my thighs in a coordinated move that leaves me breathless. His rock hard cock presses against my clit through my panties, and the wild look of need in his eyes scatters the rest of my thoughts. Carnal. Feral. Completely and utterly mine.
He rips the ribbon away and pushes inside of me with an inelegant snap of his hips. The stretch steals my breath as he entwines our hands, keeping us connected everywhere he can. I cry out, not used to having him inside me without coming at least once, but it’s perfect. The sting marks his loss of control, and it’s everything.
“Holy fuck, trouble, you have no idea what it feels like.”
I groan as he snaps his hips up, finally sheathed fully inside me. My head tips back and my eyes catch on the mirrored ceiling, the scattered stars reflected back across our bodies and making it look like we’re blanketed in them.
He twists his hips, and I suck in a breath, keeping my eyes locked on his through the mirror. He keeps his thrusts slow and deep, a steady pressure of pleasure cresting like a storm. Every time I think it can’t get better, he surprises me. Like a new code waiting to be cracked, Hunter shows me a new facet of the world, only to leave me craving more.
“You need to come for me, trouble.” His hands leave mine, pressing against my clit and rubbing in firm circles. He grips the bottom of my hair and tugs, and I release a scream as I come hard, the edge hurtling toward me faster than I can blink, and he clamps me to him, fighting his own release while letting me ride out mine.
Then he flips us, without breaking contact, and drives into my body with fast, frantic strokes. My legs wrap around his hips as I watch him power inside me, the flex of his ass and muscular back stunning as the stars dance on his skin. He utters endearments and nonsense words in my ear, but I don’t want control—I want him unhinged like he makes me. My foot inches over, and I nudge it against the silver tip, a wicked grin on my lips.
His head rises from my neck and cups my face. “Playing games, trouble?”
“Always.”
Then I put pressure on his ass, and he pulses inside of me as he shouts my name like a prayer and a curse.
“You ruin me,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Welcome to the club.”
He chuckles and pulls out, rolling to the side and pulling the blanket from the bottom of the bed over us. I shed the lingerie and curl my body into his side. His arm wraps around me and we relax as we watch the progress of the stars over the mirror. My eyes are heavy as our hearts beat in a languid rhythm. The front door opens, making Hunter stiffen.
“It’s just Rose bringing Charlie home. He wanted to help Cheryl clean the bakery.”
More like cause chaos and get lots of attention.
“Just me, lovebirds,” Rose’s voice sing-songs. “I’ll leave you in peace while I go and torture your bestie.”
“She’s still tormenting Mark?” I ask.
Hunter snorts. “He’s been tasked with making sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, and it’s apparently a full time job. This week alone, he’s had to rip her out of a college party, bail her out of the sheriff’s office two towns over, and apologize to the mayor for her dressing down of his son and his manners.”
The door snicks closed and the tapping of nails barrels down the corridor. Charlie treats the door like his personal nemesis, and it slams open, banging off the wall as he launches onto the bed and snakes his way between us.
“Cock blocker,” Hunter mutters as we both give him some love. He aggressively licks my hand like he’s apologizing for not coming home earlier. It shouldn’t be possible to be filled with this much love for an animal. But I don’t see Charlie as a pet; he’s part of the family unit, and was well before I arrived on the scene. I was just lucky enough to be welcomed in.
“How was your call with your brother?” Hunter asks as Charlie lays his head on my hip. Little flirt.
“Tiring. He’s continuing to cooperate with the Feds, and as long as he continues doing so, he won’t see the inside of a prison cell.”
They’re keeping a very tight leash on my brother, but he can’t work to bring Jonathan’s operation crashing down from behind bars. No one would talk to him. With his help, we’ve rescued hundreds of people already; women, men, children—many of whom have been helped by Honor’s charity to find their families and offer support. We’ve liberated all but two cult settlements, and Gail has focused her work on helping deprogram them using methods she honed with me. I’m not someone who can offer kind words or a strong shoulder to cry on; my grace comes from the practicality of tracing families who had long since given up hope their relatives would return to them. I access DNA databases for those born within the compounds, like myself, and vet their families so if they want to get to know them, they at least know it’s safe.
The two groups we didn’t get to in time up and moved, and no one has been able to trace them. But it’s only a matter of time. Christopher had enough separation to avoid prosecution, so he remains at large, but knows I am protected so has left me alone. We will get him. Men with his appetites don’t just stop. They can’t. And when he surfaces, I will be waiting.
Mama was finally buried in a grave I could grieve at, not that I do. I’m a firm believer in not weeping above a hole in the ground. The dead can’t hear us. I just hope she has found the peace in death she could never grasp in life.
“How’s your sister?”
He smiles softly. “Better. She sends her love and asked if you’ll come on Sunday because, and I quote, ‘you, brother, are boring as shit.’”
I snort. Stephanie is strong and powerful, but not unbreakable. None of us are. But for the most part, she decided the experience with Jonathan paled next her rape. She settled back into Green Hay after Hunter and I upgraded their security protocols, and she’s been happy, if not a little restless. I suspect she is getting ready for reality. I think our kidnapping proved she could handle more than the carefully controlled peaceful world she’s in. I have broached it with Hunter twice. He shuts me down every time. It’s his fear—which I understand—but at some point, he needs to allow Stephanie the power to choose for herself.
I curl into his side, my fingers splaying over the roman numerals along with the newer ones tattooed underneath. It’s the date he rescued me from the boat, but it’s not finished, and it’s irritating the shit out of me.
“When are you going to tell me why you haven’t added the year?”
His lips tip up in a ghost of a smile, his fingers lazily tracing shapes along my back. “I could, but you’ll probably freak out.”
“I’m not really the kind of girl that freaks out.”
His arm holds me to him tighter, and he sighs, dropping a quick kiss to the top of my head. “It isn’t the day I knew you were mine—that came earlier—but it is the day I proved I would always come for you no matter the danger.”
My chest tightens. Having just one person in your corner makes all the difference in life. “That doesn’t explain the lack of a year.”
“At some future point, you are going to say yes to marrying me.” The thought is not as terrifying as it once was. Jonathan’s warped version will take a little longer to work out of my psyche. “When you do, we are going to marry on this day under the stars, and I will add the year to make sure the universe remembers that no matter which life we find ourselves in, you are mine, and I am yours.”
My stone cold heart shatters into a million pieces, making room for the version of myself I was always capable—but never brave enough—of becoming. And I find myself, for the first time in my life, complete in the arms of a man who gives me the stars.
The End