Epilogue #3
“I have a surprise for you,” she says, stealing my line.
“I’m the one who surprises you,” I say. “I don’t want you to—“
“Shut up,” she says and sits up, slides from the table, and holds out a hand for me to take.
I get up, too, and take it.
She steers me to the other two rolling gates to the garage part where they do custom work with their business.
She lets up the door, and I stare into darkness.
She walks inside, and the click of one of the lights illuminates part of the hall. Several cars are in work: classics, custom mods, and, far in the back—
“You got her back?” I ask as I run over to the Mustang, my hands caressing her precious body. I don’t know why this car means so much to me, but it feels like I just got a part of my soul back, like a living part of Elise.
“She was a pain in the ass to restore,” she says. “Jackass and I worked relentlessly on it whenever you were in L.A.”
“I thought she was destroyed after that crash.”
“She was pretty much, including the cage. We didn’t get her a new motor, that was the biggest issue. But she’s back to health and runs like nothing ever happened.”
I cup Cass’s face as I pull myself into her.
“Thank you,” I whisper between two kisses.
She smiles.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted her back after everything—“
“I so did. I thought she was gone.”
We look at her for a moment.
“Soooo,” I say carefully, “Should we test if she’s really back to her full self?”
Cass laughs, “Hell, yeah.”
I grin. “You will lose again, you know that, tight?”
“Nah, I know you too well by now,” she says as she throws me the key.
We get into the cars and the moment the Mustang roars, warmth spreads through me.
It feels like home, because it is home.
I roll out of the garage, down the driveway, and pull up next to her on Reed Street.
“Quarter mile,” I say through the open window, grinning because I can’t wait.
“You’ll so lose,” she says, making the Hellcat growl darkly at me, but I’m unimpressed by her.
“On three,” I say. “One.”
“Two,” she says.
“Three.”
We both shoot off, the normal route around the block.
Cass is on the outside, but she cuts me off in the corner. But I don’t intend on winning this time, so I pretend to race her, pull my stunt around the corner, but let her lead.
“Booom,” she says as I catch up with her at the endmark.
“Follow me,” I tell her as I come to a halt briefly and speed off again. I turn onto Sullivan, two blocks further into Van Brunt, then turn right into Verona Street and come to a halt in front of a wall with a single roller gate and a metal door a few yards away.
I get out.
“What’s in here?” she asks as she gets out, too.
“Come inside,” I tell her as I walk to the metal door. She follows me hesitantly.
I turn on the lights, revealing the fully set-up garage. Tools, car lift, body workshop, motor lift, everything.
“What’s this place?” she asks.
“It’s mine,” I say as I lean against a wall. “I gave my house in Topanga to Luke and Tommy; they lived there anyway. Sold the plane and everything else.”
“You’re insane,” she says in total bewilderment.
I chuckle.
“No—well yes, maybe, but in this case, no,” I say as I reach for her and pull her into me. “My home is where you are.”
“You shouldn’t—not for me—you belong to California.“
“I’m not doing this for you,” I say. “I’m doing this for me. I’m following my heart. And my heart always knew it beat for cars. And you.”
“And what happens with your family there?”
“Distance doesn’t matter if it’s real family,” I say. “Especially when my family is here.” With that, I spin her around and push her into the wall, kissing her with my arm above her head.
I kiss over her cheek, down her neck, and she bares me her throat. She loves it when I kiss or bite her neck.
I lick up back up to her ear.
“Undress and go kneel by the motor lift,” I tell her. “Eyes on the floor.”
With that, I push myself off.
I turn off the bright lights and leave only one single uplighter on before I walk over to one of the cabinets and get chains from it. I also press the button for the speaker and put on our favorite playlist. The one we created while I was in the hospital, where I thought I’d die of boredom.
I take my time getting what I need, turn, and then watch her do what I told her to.
She kneels so well.
I walk slowly over to her, stand wide-legged directly in front of her, grasp her by the hair, and push her head back.
“I told you you’ll love it, pet,” I say. “Tell me how much.”
“I love being put in my place.”
A grin appears on my face, and I press her face between my legs.
“Yes, you do,” I say as the anticipation of what will happen surges through me. “Your place is right here, pet, right by my feet.”
With that, I let go of her.
“Hands,” I say. And she lifts them up immediately.
I wrap the chains I got around her wrists, click the carabiner in, pull them up, and slide it over the motor lift’s hook.
Then, I walk around the lift and pump it up so high she is pulled slightly off her knees with the chains digging into the skin of her wrists.
“Do the chains press too hard anywhere?” I ask, checking the fixing, because it can, when done wrong, cause semi-permanent damage.
“No,” she says, longing in her voice.
“Good,” I say and glide my hand over her body. Her skin is so soft, and the moment I touch her, goosebumps spread on her arms and legs.
“You can’t wait for me to take you, huh?” I ask her, and a devilish grin appears on her face.
I trail down between her legs, just briefly, and give her pussy a small slap.
She gasps and bends into the chains.
“Mhhhhhhm,” I breathe out. “You’re such a good pet.”
I love how reactive she is with whatever I do.
I walk over to another cabinet and take a cloth from it. I roll it up and bind it around her eyes.
Then, I take a step back, taking in my piece of art.
The view alone turns me on beyond.
I take my time so she can settle in and get into the space. Only when she stops shifting do I walk to a tool drawer and get several spring clamps.
I return to her and throw them on the ground. She flinches.
I kneel in front of her and start massaging her breasts, lick them, and nibble on them until her nipples turn hard. I twist them slightly; she gasps out.
Only then do I take one of the spring clamps and clamp her nipple.
“URGH!” she shouts out and bends forward into the chains. “Fuck!”
“Yeah,” I say and rub her pussy with my hand to distract her from the immediate pain. “The worst pain isn’t the attaching,” I tell her. “It’s the release.”
Her pussy is so wet that I have to slide my finger into her, just a few times, and then lick her juices off.
“You taste so fucking good,” I say and kiss her with my tongue so she gets a taste of her own juices.
Then, I grasp a second clamp, repeat what I did with the second breast, and clamp it around her nipple.
She gasps again and breathes through the pain.
But I am not done yet.
I glide with two fingers over her labia, spank her pussy for a moment until she rolls her hips, and then I attach another clamp on both sides of her labia
She groans and bends heavily, which causes my own core to burn in anticipation for what is coming.
Her breathing gets slightly erratic—the more she moves, the worse the pain will get.
“You are doing so well, pet,” I tell her to bring her back into focus. “So well.”
She settles in her movement. Meanwhile I get the strap on and three dildos I got extra for the occasion after the heated talk we had in L.A. a year ago—
“Open your mouth,” I order her. “You’ll tell me which size.”
I slide the first dildo, the smallest, into her mouth.
Then the second, a standard size.
And the third, that’s so big it barely fits in, from girth and definitely not from length.
“The last,” she says, and the moment she does, my core flutters; I need her.
I need to feel her now, because she is so perfect, I don’t even have words.
When we figured out the dynamics between us, I thought she’d challenge me every time, but I grew into my role leading her, and since then—damn.
She’s making me lose my mind in the best possible way.
“You’ll get a reward for that choice after I’m done with you, my perfect pet,” I whisper in her ear as I kiss her neck. It takes all my control to continue with my plan and not just lick her into oblivion.
I let go of her, remove my clothes, and strap in.
“I’ll fuck your mouth,” I tell her while I do, so she can stay in her state. “We talked about it. You’ll take it like the good pet you are. You will not pass out again; you will bite into the dildo if you can’t take it anymore, understood?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Good,” I say as I walk up to her.
I feel unbelievably powerful right now. A power that saves me on days where I feel like breaking, because however bad it is, I know she trusts me enough to be in control. And I would never break that trust, no matter what.
I steer the dildo to her lips.
“Suck,” I tell her. “Slowly.”
She slides her mouth over the dildo, and I hang with one hand onto the motor lift, watching her do the magic.
I will need a release later, because the heat is building in my core in a way that’s making me lose my mind. I want more.
I grasp her hair and start moving with her. Slowly at first and then I fasten up. With every thrust into her mouth, I get turned on more. And the more turned on I am, the rougher I need it.
“Hold still,” I order her then. And I thrust into her mouth, harder and faster.
She gags, bends into the chains, tries to move away—
I slow down, push her head back, and stand on my toes so I can get it in from slightly above.
“Relax your throat and take it all,” I tell her as I push against her throat.
She’s not relaxing it and moves back.
“Uh-oh,” I say. “I told you to relax; otherwise it’ll be painful. Let’s try it again.” This time, I hold her head steady, push in, push further—
And then it slides completely in.
“Mhhhhhhhnm,” I moan out because they view—the blindfold, the huge dildo in her mouth deepthroated, the chains, the clamps on her nipple—