Epilogue Lindsey
EPILOGUE
Lindsey
Two years later
MY HEART POUNDS IN my ears—boom, boom, boom—matching the sound of Dane’s—my Sir’s—footsteps walking toward me across the wood floor.
He stops directly behind my form, which is fully nude, save my leather collar, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
No matter how many times I’ve kneeled in this position, how many times I’ve waited for him in our bedroom with my head down, knees spread, and palms up, it always feels the same.
Exciting. Safe. Like home.
“Someone’s been a naughty wife.” Sir’s deep voice rumbles, sending a shiver up my spine. Not only from the devilish tease in his tone but also because I love it when he calls me his wife—almost as much as when he calls me his. It makes my insides melt and flip in a way I’ll never get used to.
His fingers brush over the top of my head.
My hair is down and slightly curled, as he likes best. He walks in front of me, and his strong fingers grip my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his.
His hazel irises are warm and steady with a sparkle of mischief in them.
It’s a look I’ve come to know well: one that means I’m in for a night of pain and pleasure. My favorite.
He strokes my chin. “So pretty like this,” he murmurs. “Too bad kneeling won’t get you out of your punishment.”
My pulse spikes, and I wet my dry lips.
“Tell me,” he continues. “What did you do today that displeased me?”
“I talked back when you asked me if I had done my morning routine and I hadn’t.”
“Hmm.” He traces my lower lip with his thumb. “You did. And why did you do that?”
Embarrassment burns through me, hot and heavy in my lower belly. I naturally try to look down, but his grip on my chin stops me.
“Tell me,” he commands sharply.
I swallow hard. “I—I don’t know, Sir.”
His mouth curves into a slow, dangerous smile. It’s the kind that makes my core clench and my pussy wet.
“You don’t know?”
I swallow again and shake my head.
“I see.” He pulls his hand back, and I keep my eyes on him since he didn’t tell me to look down. He looks near menacing in his black slacks and black button-up, the attire he likes to wear when we’re doing a scene.
Dane puts his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I think that you wanted my attention,” he says, almost amused. “That you’re a needy wife who missed her husband’s hand.”
“Yes, Sir,” I say, not denying it because…he’s right. He usually is. I do want his attention. I’ve been craving his touch, his control, the grounding presence our scenes give me.
Life’s been hectic lately. We still have sex, we still care for each other daily, but we haven’t had time for real scenes, the kind that center us in our dynamic. The kind where I’m his and he’s mine in a way only a submissive and Dominant can be.
Over the last two years, Dane and I have shaped our D/s relationship into something that truly fits us. He gave me my permanent collar on our honeymoon six months ago, and since then, our connection has only deepened.
He’s my Dominant, and I’m his submissive, but not every moment of every day. We’re partners first. We’ve created a structure that allows us to be everything else life demands: parents, professionals, and people who sometimes just need to rest.
Still, our dynamic is always present, woven into the fabric of our lives like a thread we can pull tight when we need it.
Small rituals keep us grounded: our routines, the way he reminds me to drink water, how I kneel beside the bed for our Sunday check-ins.
Even when we’re not in a scene, that trust and structure is always between us.
To the outside world and to Kas, Dane and I look like any other married couple.
And in many ways, we are. But beneath that, there’s intention in how we move through our life together.
Beyond the check-ins and routines that keep our dynamic alive, there are other, subtle ways I serve him, and countless ways he shows up for me.
He takes care of Kas and me in every way that matters.
He’s renovated our home, stepped in as a steady provider—something that took me time to adjust to after so many years of doing it alone—and he’s become the kind of “Logger Dad” Kas brags about at school.
With his support, I was able to cut down on hours at the hospital over the years and spend more time with Kas, something not only I needed, but she needed, too.
Dane, for lack of a better word, is perfect.
He doesn’t like when I say that, but to me, he is.
He’s the man of my dreams, and I find so much joy and happiness in what we’ve built together.
The only downside to the life we’ve created is our lack of alone time.
Kas has gotten very into axe throwing, and we’ve been entering her in some competitions for kids that take us all over the place.
Then there’s the fact that she loves having friends over, and we’ve also got her school projects and other activities.
It’s a lot, and by the time our heads hit our pillows at night, Dane and I are exhausted.
The last time we had a good scene was weeks ago now, and I need him.
So yes, now that I think about it, I did act out this morning on purpose.
Sir hums, and my mind focuses back on him along with my gaze.
“And now you’re going to get it, aren’t you?” he asks.
I nod quickly, my cheeks burning.
Dane takes his hand from his pocket and brings it to my lips, this time palm open. “Kiss it, and ask me nicely.”
Arousal coils low in my stomach. “Please, Sir, may I have your hand?”
He toys with the silver ring of my collar, as he likes to do. This permanent collar has a heart-shaped ring instead of a circle. “Since you said please.”
He snaps his fingers and points to the bed. “Get into position, hands flat on the bed.”
Anticipation surges through me, and I stand with an ease that can only come from practice.
Sir walks to our dresser, but I don’t pay attention to him, knowing I’ll take whatever he’s going to give me.
I reach our mattress, the one I covered with a waterproof blanket, and get into the position he taught me early on in our relationship.
I lie on my stomach, right cheek against the mattress and hands flat on the bed so my forearms bracket my head.
I arch my back as best I can so my ass is up and my legs are spread, putting the pussy he owns on display for him.
The cool air of the room ghosts over my heated skin, and my inner thighs are already wet from arousal.
When I’m in position, Sir walks back over.
He makes sure to stand where I can see him, and my pussy gets wetter when I note what he’s holding.
The thrusting/vibrating butt plug, lube, and a paddle I got him for his birthday last year.
It has brAT etched in it, and it leaves the word imprinted on my skin for a brief time.
His curved smile has my muscles tensing. He doesn’t say anything as he lays the paddle near my head, leaving the plug and lube in his hands.
“Safe word?” he asks.
“Red.”
“Good girl.” He holds up the plug so I can see it better.
We’ve used it before, and I’ve taken his dick in my ass many times over in the last two years, but I know when he puts that in, it’s going to make my spanking extra impactful.
Not to mention, he likes to fuck me with it inside me, especially since it can thrust and vibrate at the same time.
“I’m going to put this in, and you’re going to take it, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He nods and steps behind me. I exhale to relax my buzzing body, and when his warm, strong hand slides over the flesh of my ass, I sigh in relief. I needed his touch more than I needed air.
“I’m going to give you exactly what you need, baby,” Sir says as he continues to stroke my skin. “I’m going to take care of you.”
The bridge of my nose stings, and I nod into the mattress. I don’t know if he sees it or not, but he knows those words mean everything to me.
His hand glides down my spine before he takes his touch away.
A second later, cool lube is squirted between my ass cheeks, and he opens me up with one hand while the other brings the rounded silicone edge of the plug to my tight ring of muscle.
Sir is quiet while he plays, dipping the tip in and out, teasing me as he always does.
My body tenses when the tip slips further in. “Breathe. You can take it. It’s not even close to the size of my dick.”
His very “Dane” comment has me smiling into the mattress, but it does the trick. I release a breath, and he slips the plug farther in, gently kneading my ass cheek as he does.
“That’s it. I love watching your greedy hole take my plug.”
I moan and push my ass back. His devious chuckle meets my ears as he adds more lube before twisting the toy around in circles, stretching me until I’m relaxed enough for him to push it all the way in.
The moment it settles, the burn and stretch makes me whine.
Sir praises me again and taps the broad end of the toy before playing with my ass some more.
He spreads my cheeks and kneads them, digging his nails in hard then pulling back.
My pussy gets wetter the more he plays, and mixed with the burning sensation from the plug, I’m a live wire.
I’ve been with him long enough to know he’s doing it on purpose so my body is overly sensitive and I feel the impact of his coming strikes deeply and fully.
“Hmm,” he says. “So pretty.” His hand comes down on my ass, and I clench around the plug. It wasn’t a strong hit but a promise of what’s to come.
Sir rubs over where he just smacked. “You get restless when you don’t feel my hand on you, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.” I moan when he plays with the plug. He hasn’t turned on the vibration or the thrusting yet, but I know they’re coming.
“You need my rules, my discipline,” he continues. “You need the reminder of who you belong to.”
“I do, Sir.” I moan again as he twists the plug.