Epilogue
Three Years Later
Elliott
The night is always beautiful in the summer.
The air is filled with the salty tang of the ocean and the sweet fragrance of the jasmine growing around our house.
This late, the only sound is that of the ocean, waves crashing against the shore, no doubt dropping more of the shells my beautiful wife loves to collect every morning.
I lean back against the blanket and gaze up at the sky, at the vast expanse of indigo and violet, sprinkled with countless stars that feel close enough to touch.
The moon looks bigger and brighter this time of the year, or maybe it feels that way because of how perfect my life is.
I close my eyes and enjoy the gentle breeze against my face, and for a long moment, I just sit in silence.
A sound from behind me breaks my spell, and I turn at the soft creak of the front door. Chloe steps out and into the moonlight, and my breath catches. Three years since I met this woman, and no one has ever come close. Nothing mesmerizes me the way she does.
I watch her approach me. Dressed in a white dress that flows like liquid over her curves, she’s a dream.
An angel. Her hair is pulled back from her beautiful face so that I see the moonlight reflected in her eyes, turning them into pools of the deepest blue.
I find myself falling deeper in love with her—if that’s even possible.
“Sorry it took so long to get ready. Robbie woke, and I had to put him back to bed,” she says as she approaches me, a smile playing on her lips. “Apparently he wanted to go swimming and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I had to bribe him with chocolate. Toddlers.”
“Our son has a sweet tooth, just like his beautiful mother,” I say, reaching out for her hands when she gets close. “You look stunning, baby.”
She smiles, spinning to show me the back of the dress and how it dips low. It shows a hell of a lot of skin I can wait to touch with my lips. “I’ve been saving this dress for this very occasion.”
“It’s perfect, and so are you.” I pull her into my arms and brush my lips over hers. I hold her for a moment before releasing her to grab the wine and two glasses from the basket she prepared earlier.
“I bet Robbie would have a fit if he found out we’re having a midnight picnic without him,” she laughs as she takes her wine glass. “Our little secret.”
We sit down on the blanket and stare out at the ocean, dark and wide under the moonlight. I don’t have to look at my wife to tell that her mind has returned to that afternoon. “Today marks three years since the ocean gifted me the most perfect person.”
“Three years,” she sighs, leaning against me. “I can’t believe it’s been that long already. Time flies fast when you are happy.”
“And are you? Happy?”
Chloe turns her head to look at me, surprise in her pretty eyes.
“Was that ever in question?” she asks, turning back to look at the ocean.
“Before you, I spent my weekends at my bedroom window staring out as people lived a life I wasn’t brave enough to explore.
And when you pulled me out of that water, you saved more than just my life that afternoon.
And now, I have you, Robbie, and my art, which seems to be in high demand for some wild reason. ”
“You’re talented.”
And she is. However much she tried to dismiss that asshole Royce’s threat, she was afraid that she wouldn’t make it in the art world, but then word spread about the artist in Eden Cove who faked amnesia to escape her fiancé.
Our love story became something of a legend that tourists loved to hear about from the locals before purchasing her art.
The demand for her paintings and sculptures has been overwhelmingly strong, which must give the New York lawyer some sleepless nights, considering the humiliation he experienced that day.
Hell, a part of me thought he might press charges, but we later learned that Chloe’s parents threatened to destroy his reputation in the tight knit law community if he interfered with their daughter’s life. It was the least they could do for her.
They’ve been trying to make up for the stress they put their daughter through and repair their relationship.
They sent gifts when Chloe and I got married in a small chapel a few weeks after the restaurant incident.
They were invited to celebrate Robbie’s birth, and they visit a couple of times a year to see their daughter.
I sense their dislike for me every time, which is fair since I don’t fucking like them either.
Still, we keep it civil for Chloe’s sake.
Besides, I only see them once or twice a year.
“I got you a present for our anniversary,” Chloe purses her lips. “Well, I got you two gifts.”
“Me too, but I left them inside.”
“I’ll open them later, but first, I want you to see mine,” she says, straightening up and reaching into the basket. “Close your eyes.”
I humor her, shutting my eyes, but I can’t help the smile at the eagerness I hear in her voice. “Is it a seashell sculpture?”
“How did you guess?”
I laugh, opening my eyes and expecting to see one of her popular sculptures, but instead, she’s holding a pink doll-sized life jacket. My brows furrow in confusion as I take it from her hands, turning the small jacket in my hands. “Is this a new creation?”
My confusion is met with an eyeroll. “Sometimes men can be so clueless,” she says, humor coloring her voice. “Read the inscription on the back.”
I turn the jacket around and study the words printed on the back. “Dad,” I read out loud, and it’s like a light bulb goes on in my dark, confused mind. My eyes widen with surprise. The words and the pink of the jacket finally make sense. “You’re pregnant, with a girl!”
“I’m—”
She laughs delightfully when I push forward and bind my arms around her, pulling her flush against me. My heart fills to the brim with love for a woman I don’t deserve but need. We fall onto the blanket so she’s straddling me. “You make me the happiest man in the world, Chloe. I love you.”
I feel her practically melt against me. Slowly, her fingers climb up my shoulder and nape, tangling in my hair as she pulls my head back.
“I love you,” she whispers, her voice heavy with emotion as she brushes her lips over mine.
My heart slams against my ribcage, and my hands drop to her hips, slowly pushing up the dress and climbing up her thighs as we share a deep kiss.
The taste of her calls forth the beast that always claws at my chest when she touches me.
I groan when she captures my bottom lip between her teeth before pulling back.
“I don’t have anything on under this dress,” she whispers against my lips, lighting my blood up.
I slide my hands under the dress and to her naked ass, kneading her perfect flesh in my palms, drawing a moan from her lips. “Oh God, Elliott. I want you.”
“I always want you, kitten. I can’t seem to stop.”
“Then don’t ever stop,” she whispers as her mouth seeks mine hungrily.
I slide one hand to her waist and roll her onto her back, settling between her parted thighs.
My cock is hard as fucking steel, weeping behind my fly.
I want her now, as I always do, with a desperation I’ve never felt for anything else in my life.
“I have to taste you, baby,” I rasp, breaking the kiss to trail my mouth down her neck.
She whimpers when I rake my teeth gently down her neck and over her puckered nipples, lapping at the beads over the dress.
She arches into me, whining as I move lower until I’m settled between her thighs and staring at her wet folds.
My mouth waters, and my head pounds as all blood rushes south.
I catch the soft scent of her arousal that mingles with the salty air from the ocean, and it’s perfect.
She always is.
“Eli!” she cries out when I take an ass cheek in each hand and bury my tongue between her folds, groaning at the taste of her. I push back and nip gently at her inner thigh, meeting those gorgeous eyes from between her parted thighs.
“Shh, you don’t want to wake Robbie up, do you?”
“No, I… Oh!” she screams as I lick along her seam from her entrance to her clit.
She slaps a hand over her mouth even as she rolls her hips to meet my hungry tongue.
She tangles her free hand in my hair and pulls me harder against her drenched pussy.
She rolls her hips and paints my lips, jaw, and nose with her arousal.
I run my flat tongue against her flesh and drown in her intoxicating scent.
I could spend a lifetime buried in her, losing myself in the soft feel of my wife’s body and the sugar-sweet taste of her.
I pull back when I feel her teetering on the edge. She whines, chest heaving as I climb up her body. We both fumble with my zipper. She laughs, and I curse out when the little bastard gives us trouble at first. My cock springs free, already leaking pre-cum.
She hooks her legs around my waist as I press my aching cock inside her entrance, then slam into her.
“Fuuuck, Fuck me!” I growl, seeking her mouth and swallowing her moan.
She grips my shoulders, nails clawing at my skin as I drive my cock in and out of her rippling flesh, rocking hard with the need to claim her for myself as I did that night three years ago.
Mine.
She’s goddamned mine, a gift from the ocean.
Has been mine from the second I pulled her out of that water.
She became mine the second those stunning blue eyes opened to lock with mine—and every day since.
I bury myself in her scent as I pump my cock desperately into her, the need for her just as strong as it was the first night, if not more.
“You’re mine.”
“Yours,” she sobs, nails digging into my shoulder as she comes apart in my arms, pulling me right off the cliff with her. I bellow into the night as she clenches hard around my jerking cock, taking my cum as completely as she claimed my heart and soul. They all belong to her, and only ever will.
The ocean roars quietly in the distance as our lovemaking turns heart-wrenchingly slow. New promises are made, and old ones are reaffirmed. Three years, hell, thirty years from now, and I will always want her. In my arms, and in this house by the ocean that brought us together.
~The End
For more reads click here!