Epilogue #2
I lay back on the bed, staring up at the painting I made for his birthday.
The Black Rose Garden. Just looking at it—the symbolism, the darkness, the way I captured his possessive gaze—makes me instantly soaking wet.
I remember the feel of his hands, the sheer size of his cock filling me, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth owning.
I slide a hand down, rubbing my clit through the air, my breath hitching.
Then, I hear it. The heavy thud of the front door. The familiar stride of his boots on the hardwood.
I don’t move. I don’t even look toward the door. I just lay there, heart hammering against my ribs, waiting for the predator to find his prey.
I feel the mattress sink behind me before I hear him. Suddenly, his strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. His lips crash into the sensitive skin of my neck, biting and sucking, marking me before he’s even said a word.
"I fucking missed you, little doll," he growls, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against my skin.
I twist in his arms, looking up at him with eyes full of hunger. "I missed you more, Rhys," I gasp, my hands already flying to his neck.
I don't give him a second to breathe. I start ripping at his tie, tugging it loose with a feral intensity, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his coat.
I want him out of these clothes; I want the barrier gone.
He lets out a dark, guttural laugh and kisses me—hard, bruising, a collision of teeth and tongue that tastes like desperation and ownership.
We strip each other with equal fervor, clothes being tossed haphazardly across the room.
The second his trousers are gone, his cock springs free, thick and pulsing, and I practically moan at the sight of it.
He doesn't waste a moment. He flips me onto my back, his eyes dark with a psychotic level of lust.
He dives between my legs, his mouth landing on my clit with a precision that makes my entire body arch off the bed.
He sucks me hard, his tongue swirling and flicking, driving me toward the edge in seconds.
While his mouth is working me into a frenzy, he slides a long, rough finger deep into my ass.
I gasp, my fingers clutching the sheets, the sensation of being opened up from both ends sending sparks of electricity through my spine.
He doesn't stop, fingering my backside with a possessive rhythm while his tongue continues to devour me.
I scream, my orgasm hitting me like a freight train, my pussy clamping down on his face as I shake violently.
But he isn't done. He never is.
He lunges upward, grabbing my thighs and shoving them back toward my shoulders. He doesn't use lube; he doesn't need to. I'm dripping, practically begging for him. He slams into me in one brutal, fast motion, his cock burying itself deep in my cunt with a wet, heavy thud.
"Fuck, you're so tight for me," he snarls, his pace immediate and feral.
It’s not slow. It’s not romantic. It’s a fucking assault of pleasure.
He hammers into me, his hips colliding with mine with a rhythmic, violent force that rattles the bed.
I’m sobbing, my head tossing back and forth, completely lost in the sensation of him claiming me.
As he pumps, he reaches down with his free hand, his fingers finding my clit and rubbing it frantically, while his other hand slides back into my ass, fingering me deep and hard while he fucks me.
The multiple stimulation is too much. I feel another orgasm building, a tidal wave of heat.
He feels it too, his movements becoming more erratic, more insane.
He groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated possession, as he drives himself into me one last time, his cock hitting my cervix as I scream, my body convulsing around him in a blinding, white-hot climax.
He doesn't pull out. He stays buried deep, breathing hard, his chest heaving against mine. But then, his grip shifts. He grabs my hips and violently flips me over onto my stomach, shoving my face into the pillow and hoisting my ass high in the air.
I’m panting, my skin slick with sweat and cum, feeling completely exposed and vulnerable. I hear the shift in his voice—the tone that tells me he’s moving past simple lust into something much darker.
"Tonight," he whispers, his voice dripping with a terrifying, obsessive promise, "I'm claiming you fully."
My heart stops for a beat, then starts racing.
I know exactly what he means. I know the boundary he's about to cross, the final seal of ownership he wants to place on me.
And as I feel him press against my entrance, I don't pull away.
I push back against him, desperate for every inch of his madness.
"Do it," I whimper into the pillow. "Fuck me. Claim me. Make me yours.”
I can feel the shift in him, the way his breathing turns from a ragged pant to something more focused, more predatory.
Slowly, agonizingly, he slides his cock out of my pussy.
The wet, sliding sound of him leaving me makes me whimper, a sudden void opening up where he just was.
I’m still shaking from the orgasms, my skin hypersensitive, and I can feel the cool air hit my drenched thighs for only a second before he shifts his weight.
He’s hovering over my arse now. I can feel the blunt, hot head of his cock pressing against my tight little hole, probing the entrance.
For weeks, he’s been preparing me for this—fingers, toys, slow stretching during our more manic sessions—but knowing it’s coming and actually feeling him there is a completely different fucking story.
"You're ready for me, aren't you, little doll?" he whispers, his voice a dark, velvet caress against my ear. "Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me inside every single part of you."
"Yes... fuck, yes, Rhys. Please," I moan into the pillow, my hips instinctively arching, offering myself up to him. I want the fullness, the stretch, the absolute ownership of it.
He doesn't just plunge in. He’s a sadistic bastard, and he knows exactly how to make me suffer for it.
He starts with a slow, agonizing push. I feel my sphincter stretch, the muscle resisting for a heartbeat before it gives way to his sheer size.
I let out a sharp, strangled gasp, my fingers clawing at the bedsheets.
It feels like I'm being split open, a heavy, invasive pressure that fills me completely, leaving no room for anything but him.
"Fuck... you're so tight," he grunts, his voice strained. He pauses for a moment, letting me adjust, letting the feeling of him stretching me to the limit sink in. I can feel the pulse of his cock inside my rectum, a thick, throbbing presence that makes my head spin. It’s an overwhelming sensation—half-pain, half-ecstasy—that makes me feel utterly conquered.
Then, he starts to move.
It begins as a slow, grinding slide, pulling back just enough to tease before shoving back in deep.
Each thrust is deliberate, a heavy, rhythmic pounding that vibrates through my entire pelvis.
I can feel the way he’s hitting deep in my ass, sending jolts of electricity shooting straight to my clit.
I’m sobbing now, not from pain, but from the sheer intensity of it.
It’s the most invasive thing I’ve ever felt, and I fucking love it.
"You're mine," he snarls, his pace beginning to quicken. "Every hole, every inch. You belong to me, Ophelia. Say it."
"I'm yours! I'm fucking yours!" I scream, my voice muffled by the pillow.
The pace shifts from slow to feral. He stops being gentle, stops being careful.
He starts hammering into my ass with a violent, possessive force.
The sound of his hips slapping against my cheeks is loud and wet, a rhythmic percussion to my desperation.
He’s fucking me like he wants to break me, like he wants to leave a permanent mark on my soul through my body.
I can feel the sheer girth of him stretching me to the absolute limit with every thrust. It’s a brutal, relentless pounding that leaves me breathless, my body jolting forward with every hit.
He reaches around, his hand gripping my breast, squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise while he continues to ravage my backside.
The friction is insane. The pressure is intoxicating.
I feel another orgasm building, but this one is different—it’s deeper, darker, born from the feeling of being completely filled and dominated.
My internal muscles clamp down on him in a desperate attempt to hold him inside, which only makes him grow even harder, even more insistent.
"That's it, take it all," he growls, his voice sounding completely unhinged. "Take every fucking inch of me."
He hits a spot deep inside that makes my vision go white.
I let out a long, piercing scream as my body finally snaps.
The orgasm rips through me, a violent convulsion that starts in my ass and radiates outward, leaving me shaking and sobbing.
As I peak, he lets out a guttural roar, his movements becoming frantic, desperate.