EPILOGUE #2
Everything inside me tightens at his words and I come so hard that Ethan almost has to stop moving.
He groans, pumping fast and hard until a moan slips out of him when his orgasm catches up to him.
I pulse and pulse around his throbbing length, feeling his hot cum coating every inch of me and I feel so blissfully owned that I know I’ll never get enough of this.
I slump on the sink and he slumps on me, one arm wrapped around my waist and his face buried in my neck.
I can feel his cum leaking out of me and I frown.
“Why didn’t you knot me?” I ask, my voice still hoarse from my screams.
He chuckles from behind me, nuzzling my scent—our scent—and rubbing his stubble on my skin.
“I have plans that would probably be useless if we were locked together for hours, my sweet little mate,” he whispers with so much affection in his voice that I just have to turn around and face him.
And feel my breath hitch at the soft, sated smile he’s giving me.
“What kind of plans?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing kisses under his jaw until I reach his lips, shivering when he pries them open and his tongue licks into me in lazy strokes, letting me taste myself on him.
“Birthday plans,” he mutters, a little breathless, his eyes roaming my face. “Wanna go so I can show you?”
The smile that splits my face almost hurts.
“I do.”
***
I’m practically skipping as I get dressed, the only clue Ethan gave me being to dress lightly and not to worry about anything else.
Even though it’s already been more than three years since I moved in, sometimes my eyes still rest on all the details that make this cabin now our home instead of just his.
The little corner he made for me in the living room just days after I came here so that I could work more on my crocheting projects, complete with a comfortable armchair, so many shades of colourful yarn to choose from and fun kits to practise on.
A ridiculous number of flannels that are hanging in almost every room, both his and mine. Or better, his that he’s more than happy to see me wear.
Framed crocheted designs I’ve made that decorate every wall, all my attempts on making the forest around the cabin, the house itself, or cute little winter animals. All my attempts that Ethan insisted we put up so he could watch them all the time and be proud of me.
And he is. His eyes always sparkle with admiration, and pride, and such raw adoration that even when insidious thoughts of not being enough, of not deserving such love threaten to slither inside my mind and heart, he pushes everything away, every moment of darkness.
There are no cloudy days with him. No cold. No loneliness. Just light and warmth. Always.
He’s waiting for me in the truck, and the way he looks—wild, messy brown hair, streaked with gray, rough stubble, dark sunglasses and a devastating smile while he leans with one elbow outside the driver’s window—is enough to almost make me stumble on my way to the passenger seat.
Clicking in my seat belt, I shoot a glance at Ethan while he turns the truck around.
“I shouldn’t bother asking you where we’re going, right?”
“You know me so well.”
“I do,” I tell him, leaning over to his side so that I can peck the side of his jaw. “Which is exactly how I know what it would take to make you fess up.”
He groans and I chuckle, sitting back.
“Please, don’t do that. I really want many more years with you and I don’t see that happening if I have to drive and be distracted by you.”
“Fine, I’ll be nice.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“And in the spirit of being nice, I won’t tell you that since I haven’t showered I can still smell you all over me and feel you running down my thigh.”
A deep, low growl reverberates in his chest and his hands clench on the steering wheel until his knuckles become white.
“Yeah?” he steals a glance at me, his nostrils flaring.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck, baby. You’re terrible at being nice.”
A happy giggle slips from my lips, which makes Ethan grin.
“Well, I learned from the best,” I quip, turning to look outside, hoping the mountain road he’s taking might give me some clue.
Ever since we started living together, he’s taken me to explore so many hidden trails I never even knew existed, having hiked only a couple of the easiest ones myself when I was younger and I needed an escape, somewhere I could breathe.
But he has shown me so many breathtaking corners of this mountain that I never thought I’d get to see, and judging by the unfamiliar route he’s taken, he’s about to show me another one.
Letting my head rest against the seat, I allow myself to feel the warm breeze that flows from the open window on my face, my nose filling with the rich scents of resin and blooming wildflowers.
And Ethan, I think as I smile, breathing deeply.
It doesn’t take long to arrive to our destination, the mountain road soon giving way to a dirt road full of crisp greenery.
The truck pulls to a stop and all I can see is a wall of trees. But I don’t question Ethan’s decision to bring us here. I’ve learned my lesson the first few times when I’d look at him extremely confused at some of his choice stops before each and every one of them blew my mind.
I get out while he rounds the truck to pick up something from the back, emerging seconds later with one of the largest picnic baskets I’ve ever seen in my life.
I blink at his hands stupidly, lifting my eyes to meet his that are dancing with amusement, his sunglasses perched on his head.
“Are you taking me for a picnic?”
My expression must be comical because Ethan chuckles as he pulls me in for a quick kiss.
“What gave me away? The subtle as fuck basket?”
I nod slowly, staring at the basket. I feel his hand come up and tilt my chin up again, a soft look passing through his gaze this time.
“Did I break you, sweetheart?”
“Maybe,” I whisper, my heart thumping loudly in my ears.
His arm wraps around me, until I’m pressed against his chest.
“I take it you like the idea?” he asks, nuzzling my hair, and God, the hope in his voice is enough to make me melt.
“I love it, Ethan. And I love you.”
His face transforms at my words and for a moment I’m struck stupid at the beauty of this man. Inside and out.
“I love you, too, Ollie,” he breaths out just for me, before his fingers are threading with mine. “Come,” he grins, leading the way through the thickness of the trees.
But not for long.
Because it’s only minutes later when the forest opens up to something straight out of a postcard.
It’s a meadow. A beautiful meadow surrounded by trees and open to the wide, pale blue sky. Everywhere I look it’s so green, the late morning light piercing the trees, shining on the blades of grass.
But it’s when my eyes catch on the hundreds of tiny, white blooms, spread around the edges of the meadow that I feel something shift in my chest.
Dandelions. Hundreds of white, puffy dandelions swinging in the light breeze, moving in sync.
It’s only when Ethan squeezes my hand that I realize how silent I’ve been, my gaze immediately lifting to seek his, the light from the sun making his eyes look almost amber in color.
“How did you find this place?” I ask in a voice that’s rough and tight, emotions clogging my throat.
Ethan watches me with such undivided attention that I know he misses none of my reactions, his face remaining calm, serene, and so damn understanding.
“With a little help from Bill,” he admits with an upward tilt of his lips.
A watery laugh breaks from me and for the life of me, I don’t think my heart can handle so much happiness. Every moment with Ethan feels like too much and not enough.
Never enough.
Every day that goes by in our very own little slice of heaven feels like a gift, a blessing I finally started accepting that it’s real.
That I deserve it.
That it’s something that will not vanish the moment I close my eyes at night. Because every morning, he’s there, loving me loud and hard, showing me how worthy I am and I’m right there with him, feeling like I’m breathing only for him.
So when he leans down amidst pine trees and wildflowers, and whispers his love on my skin before molding our lips together in a kiss that sears my soul, I can only surrender to this terrifyingly beautiful feeling that has been growing inside me since the moment I met him.
Since he saved me from the cold and the darkness.
Since he showed me what it means to be safe, and wanted, and loved.
Happy.
And even hours later when we’re lying against the trunk of a tree, seeing nothing but each other, and he gently snaps the stems of two dandelions that share the same root asking me to make a wish, my mind is blank.
Because I have no wishes left in me.
Because nothing else matters more.
Nothing, I think as I blow on the seeds and watch them fly away in the open sky, but him and me.