Epilogue
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
S omething in the bog watched. A centuries-old being lurked in its depths, claiming heads wherever she found them. With one brutal stroke of the arm, she cut down even the strongest…
“Teddy?”
Theodore sighed, rising from the ground on stiff knees. “Sweetheart, I know you can be scary. I’ve seen it.”
“I would, but it’s just this contraption.” Ardruina giggled. “Lady Crane is scandalized.”
“Lady Crane has no idea.” He folded his arms across his bare chest, keeping his back turned. Couldn’t spoil the surprise.
“All right. All right. Let’s try again.”
Hoofbeats retreated, until the only sounds left were the ones the bog provided. Rustling wind, the gurgling, squelching flow of water.
Theodore crouched down, studying the sundews before him. One of its mauls closed around some unlucky insect. To have and to hold. To hold and to feed. And the bog kept their secrets well.
The draining project stopped when Leon Marks disappeared. No money, no construction, no resort. There was an investigation, of course. Local law enforcement combed through the town, the bog, looking for the missing billionaire. They never turned up anything. It helped that an insider trading allegation against Marks came out within days of his demise, along with other white-collar crimes, and people just assumed he got a tipoff, fled the United States, and disappeared on the dime of an offshore bank account and foreign oligarch friends.
That suited Theodore and Ardruina just fine. Dead Man’s Hollow was protected land now.
The quiet was interrupted by rapidly approaching hoofbeats. Nothing living should have such purchase on unsolid terrain, and yet it was quickly gaining ground.
Theodore chanced a glance over his shoulder, only to find a shadowy figure barreling down upon him on a white, mud-speckled horse.
He shot up from the ground and ran, all thirty-plus years of bog geography firmly mapped out in his mind. It wasn’t the most direct route back to his cottage, but it was the safest. Even where the ground was its firmest and driest, mud still squished beneath his shoes. When he slipped, he counterbalanced. When he fell, he ignored the cold water that seeped into his joggers, the shriek of the horse, and its bloodthirsty rider. He just scrambled to his feet, and kept going, never once looking back.
Theodore pumped his arms and legs, bringing his knees up high just as his one-time coach had shouted. He wasn’t strong but he was fast, and nimble, once a midfielder for his collegiate club soccer team.
But outrun a horse?
Nothing had ever trained him for that.
He ran through the pain, heart racing, lungs burning. Not for anything would he stop. His very life depended on it. The thunderous charge behind him was the nightmare he kept pace to, the horse’s harsh, panting breaths hot against his back.
Too close, much too close.
Theodore sped for the bog’s edge, for the safety of his cabin. He’d been a friend to Dead Man’s Hollow all his life, had fought for its very survival. Tonight was not the night he met his demise at the hands of the formidable being that stalked its shadows.
Fifty feet. Forty. Thirty.
The sodden, open landscape firmed beneath his feet, a strip of forest land just ahead, the bog’s edge closing in. He saw his cottage between the trees and the screen door that promised sanctuary, if only he reached it in time.
Twenty feet.
A streak of white rushed past him, lifting the hairs on the back of his neck and arms. He didn’t stop. It wasn’t over until it was over.
Blood pumped in his ears and lactic acid burned his thighs as his lungs screamed for oxygen.
Ten feet.
The horse reared beside him, and let out a bloodcurdling, battlefield screech, its rider a shadow haunting his periphery.
Theodore slammed bodily into the door, only breaking momentum now, because with an adversary hot on his heels, every single second before had mattered. Wrenching the door open, he squirreled himself inside, and latched it shut.
He backed away from the door, hands on his thighs, sucking in deep lungsful of air. No longer in the bog. Nothing can touch you here. Not in your own home.
What happens in the bog stays in the bog. Those were the rules.
And he made it, he made it home.
Past the pounding of his own racing heart, it was quiet outside, his backyard suspiciously empty, as if his purser had never existed. Only the sound of birds and crickets performing their evening symphony broke that eerie stillness.
He won. He outran the Headless Horsewoman of Dead Man’s Hollow.
Winning never felt more like losing.
A tall figure darkened his threshold, and before he could so much as blink, she kicked open his door, splintered wood flying.
Theodore jolted back with a surprised squeak, fumbling for something, anything, to create a barrier.
The door banged against the wall, hanging cockeyed on its hinges from the sheer force behind the kick, and all he grabbed was a broom handle. Warmth bloomed in his cheeks…
And lower.
He was royally fucked.
Before he could so much as protest, Ardruina smacked the broom from his hands and grabbed him by his waistband, hauling him into the bedroom. She pushed him toward the bed. The back of his knees hit the edge, and he sat down with a heavy oof .
“Submit to me, human, and I will spare you.”
Theodore met her dark brown eyes, glittering with mirth, a contrast to the rest of her appearance, all power and danger. She wore black riding leathers, tattered and weather-worn, and her curls haloed her head in a dark wind-swept cloud. Just like the day they met.
Well. Almost.
There was one pants-immolating difference.
The harness gracing her hips, and the purple phallus jutting from between her thighs.
Well fuck me.
She smirked. Words hadn’t passed between them, but she knew. And she would. “Take those filthy pants off.”
Kicking off his shoes, Theodore was all too eager to comply. His joggers hit the floor next.
A fierce glint flashed across her eyes, and the smirk grew as she twirled her finger. “Hands and knees, Theodore.”
Oh boy, he was in trouble. He turned and crawled to the center of the bed. The best kind of trouble.
It wasn’t his first time bottoming, nor would it be his last, but it was his first time with her.
She smoothed her gloved hands over his ass, leather on bare skin, before yanking him back by the hips to the edge. Theodore fell forward, chest hitting the mattress, leaving his ass high in the air and hard-on dangling between his legs. Dammit if he wasn’t going to stay here on display with his face comfortably pillowed.
A feast for the taking.
Ardruina knelt behind him, hands still at his hips, and trailed her nose along the back of his thigh. “Lavender.” She inhaled deeply.
It was a wonder she could still smell the soap he used after his sprint through the bog, but Theodore wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He spent a good part of his morning routine on hair removal, too. “Your favorite.”
“My favorite,” she agreed, purring against his skin.
Teeth grazed, then nipped at the firm flesh of his backside. Her strong fingers dug in, holding Theodore right where she wanted him, and he was completely at her mercy as she delved her tongue between his thighs. A swipe here, a swipe there, from perineum to stern, until her wet, probing tongue reached that tight little hole, circling it round and round.
A shiver ran through him, almost tickling from her soft, wet attentions. He didn’t have to pretend with Ardruina. Didn’t have to be bigger, stronger, or anything other than what he was and that went both ways. She embraced all of him, and he embraced all of her, head-tumbling and all.
Ardruina stroked down with her fingers, teasing the underside of his shaft, the light touch filling his limbs with sweet anticipation. He twitched, eager and ready.
Then she withdrew her hand, leaving his aching dick unattended.
He groaned in protest.
“Theodore,” she growled. “Where are your manners?”
“Manners?” His voice was muffled by the comforter. He didn’t expend the effort to raise his head.
“If you want something, ask for it nicely.” She snaked a hand around, gently tugging his balls, and fuck , he would’ve liked that hand wrapped around his dick instead.
And she would, if he asked, but that wasn’t the point of this game. “I want to be at your mercy.”
Her dark chuckle eclipsed any doubt; she knew the rules perfectly well. “Oh you most certainly are.”
She spread his ass wide, gliding her tongue up, then pushing in. It wasn’t a deep penetration, but it consumed all thought, everything revolving around that one exquisite point of contact. She rubbed the outer ring with her thumb, teasing the edge made slick by her tongue, before reaching to the nightstand beside them.
Behind him, a plastic bottle lid snapped open, a drizzle of cool liquid following down the cleft of his ass. Ardruina coated her thumb in it, gently probing past the tight ring of muscle and slipping the digit inside. Theodore melted into the soft bed, arching and spreading himself so Arduina could reach deeper.
A breathy moan escaped his lips when she finally, finally , wrapped a hand around his aching hard-on. Theodore lost himself to sensation as Ardruina worked him from both ends, drawing him to the brink of release.
But he never got to tip over that edge.
Ardruina withdrew all contact and stood abruptly, leaving him empty and gasping.
He heard the squeeze of the bottle again, so he snuck a look behind him, finding Ardruina stroking lube over the purple phallus, her leather-clad hand working it back and forth. Fuck , that was mesmerizing.
She met his eye. “Keep watching.”
He was about to get railed by his girl. He couldn’t look away if he tried.
She stepped between his legs, rubbing the phallus up and down his ass. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” Since the day she revealed her secret to save his life. Who she was, what she was—a Dullahan, a headless horsewoman—they wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that.
Ardruina’s detachable head? And their staggering, centuries-long age gap? It took some getting used to, that’s for certain, but Theodore loved her strength and power. Her otherworldliness . None of those things should be hidden. Not for him. Not for anyone.
She gripped his hips, watching his face closely as she pressed in. Behind the wicked mirth glittering in those coal-black eyes lay a hint of caution. He knew what she looked for—pleasure, discomfort—all the things he paid attention to when their roles were reversed.
“Keep going,” he whispered, not wanting her to balk at the initial resistance. “That’s it.”
He repeated the encouragement, each iteration sounding more and more like a moan, until she was seated to the hilt. “You feel so good, sweetheart.”
She issued a shallow test thrust.
He bit his lower lip. “Mmph. More.”
She thrust again, deeper this time, and her eyelids fluttered closed—a jolt of pleasure taking them both. The toy they chose was designed to deliver clitoral stimulation with each thrust, so she could enjoy this as much as he did. “I like where this hits.”
“Me too.”
She banded an arm around his chest and with rough jerk, hauled him into an upright position, bringing him flush with her body. She smoothed the palm of her hand down his torso, to where he ached for more. He gripped her thighs, fingers digging into her leather riding gear, as her hips and hand worked him in tandem.
If she kept this up, it wouldn’t be long before he came.
He was already wound tight, almost ready to blow.
“I want to try something, Teddy.” His heart lurched at the endearment. It wasn’t often that she called him “Teddy.” Only when his terrifying beauty felt vulnerable. But she didn’t need to be afraid. Not with him. Not when the thought of trying new things with her excited him beyond measure.
“Okay.” His pulse quickened, half alive with anticipation, half afraid he’d come too soon. Depending on what this “something new” was, it could all be over in the next ten seconds. “What is it, sweetheart?”
She stilled—her hips, the stroking of his dick—and… dammit . Why’d she have to stop? That brink she brought him so excruciatingly close to for the second time ebbed away. If he weren’t dying to know what she had in mind, he might’ve growled in frustration. And when she completely removed her hands from his body, he couldn’t imagine what in the sweet hell she had planned for him.
Whatever it was, he didn’t think he could survive another round of edging.
Unless…
Something rustled behind him. “Hold out your hand.”
A thrill shot up his spine at the possibilities, Ardruina’s torturous designs quickly forgiven. Was it another toy? A cock ring, perhaps?
It was nothing he expected. It was more. So much more.
Green silk ribbon whispered against his palm. Theodore curled his fingers protectively around it, his heart beating thunderously against his ribcage. What Ardruina placed in his care was worth far more than anything that could be bought.
This ribbon fused Ardruina’s head to her body with a magic Theodore couldn’t even begin to comprehend. All he needed to know was that if it was ever stolen, lost, or destroyed, her head would be detached forever. It wouldn’t kill her, but it would make her vulnerable. If someone took her head, they could use it to control her. Make her do their bidding.
Only a gift of this magnitude could be earned. That Ardruina would trust him with something so precious…
“Sweetheart,” he breathed, his heart swelling with emotion.
This was why she stopped, why she let go. She needed her hands to hold her head.
“Wrap it around your neck,” she whispered, her voice carrying lower than it did before, and off to the side. He couldn’t be sure without looking, but if he had to guess, she was cradling her head under an arm. “Just once. Leave the ends untied in the back.”
With trembling fingers, he followed her instructions, wrapping the ribbon around his neck like a choker, but leaving the ends to trail down his back.
Oh, how he needed this. Needed her.
“Teddy,” she purred, curling her fingers around the ends of the green ribbon like reins and pulling tight. Her voice moved—behind him, beside him, then beneath him. “Hold me.”
He carefully took her head into his hands, palms cupping her cheeks. She grinned up at him, a cheeky, sultry twist to her purple lips.
“Good boys get kisses.”
His breath hitched. “You sure?”
The ribbon tightened around his neck. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
It didn’t matter that he held Ardruina’s head in his hands, the power to command and control. He was at her mercy.
Theodore cradled her head between his thighs, nearly combusting when she took him into her mouth. With her fingers wound tight around the ribbon, her other hand at his hip, she began to thrust again, pushing him deep into her mouth.
He rocked between those dual points of blinding pleasure, shifting his gaze between the ceiling and the wicked glint in her eyes. Oh god, oh god, he was not going to last. He had one, two, maybe three…
Ardruina shuddered behind him, her eyelids fluttering closed.
Fuuuck.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he came, lips parting on a tattered exhale. His whole body thrummed with release, and he emptied into her hot, eager mouth, relishing the feel of her tongue curled around him.
Several beats passed between them as they both panted in tandem. Then, Ardruina released her hold on the ribbon and took back her head.
Theodore fell forward on his hands and knees, over the wet spot on the bedding where his cum had leaked. He slapped a hand to his neck, catching the green ribbon before it slipped.
The bed creaked as Ardruina withdrew and stepped off the edge.
It had only been a handful of seconds, but Theodore found himself turning, searching for her eyes, needing to see how she felt in the aftermath. Dark brown eyes met his blue as she affixed her head to her neck, all wickedness gone, replaced by tenderness.
Words didn’t pass between them. Theodore just walked on his knees to the edge of the bed, threading the green ribbon around her neck, his fingers grazing her skin as he went. It felt like a raised scar, the place where her head and neck met.
“I really like you, Theodore.” She murmured softly, holding still as he retied the green ribbon. “And I want to keep you for as long as I can.”
“I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”
“No, I know. It’s…” She smoothed her hands down his chest, then wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close. “I know a werebear that comes this way each spring. If you wanted longevity, I could catch her on her next trip down and ask her to…” She trailed off, gaze dropping. A pink flush tinged her ghostly pale cheeks.
He grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. “Sweetheart, are you asking me to become your Teddy Bear ?”
She rolled her eyes and lightly punched his shoulder. A broad, uncharacteristically shy smile overtook her face. “Maybe.”
“I think you more than like me.” He tipped her chin up, placing a soft, sweet kiss to her lips. “If you’re looking for ways to extend my lifespan.”
She hugged him like she never wanted to let go. “Well, I love you, Teddy.”
“I love you, too.” No hesitation. It wasn’t even a question.
“Even with what I am, and what I’ve done?”
Protecting this bog. Protecting him.
Undeniably.
“Especially.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “I’ve always loved pretty, vicious things.”