Epilogue #2
“Be a good boy, and crawl to me. Slowly. Let me watch you,” I drawl, leaning back on my elbows to watch his slow approach. Once he’s close enough that his hand brushes the side of my foot, he pauses.
Without me saying anything, he bows his head and licks a hot, wet trail from my foot all the way up my calf before switching to the other. The act is so reminiscent of our night in Lyon my heart lurches.
We’ve come so far from then, but seeing him at my mercy like this never gets old.
“What a good boy. You must really want to be set free, hmm?” Reaching down, I cup his jaw before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips. Pulling back, I trail my foot over his lap, pressing down on his cock.
“Please, Lily. I’ve been so good, please.” He begs, his words coming out in between little whimpers as I slowly apply pressure with my foot while I pretend to think about it.
“Stand up.” My words are soft, but he jumps like they’re a command. Shifting closer, I slowly slip his cock free; he flinches a little at the sensation even as his cock starts to grow harder.
“Matt,” I say, drawing his attention to me.
“Yes?” he responds.
“Fuck me now.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Taking me by surprise, he slips his blindfold free and hooks his arms under my legs as he hoists me off the bed and into his arms. The next thing I know, he’s lying down on the bed and settling me over his cock, reverse cowgirl, and holding my thighs open over his forearms.
Holy shit, this is going to look hot.
With a heavy grunt, he slips his cock inside me and thrusts up into me, and I dig my nails into his arms for support as I ride him.
“Don’t stop,” I cry out.
Matt growls—that deep, possessive sound that vibrates right through me—and he doesn’t just listen. He obeys. His hips drive harder, faster, the sharp smack of skin against skin filling the room as he thrusts into me with an intensity that feels like it might split the world open.
“Fuck—Lily…” His voice is ragged, breathless, lost in me.
The leather of his trousers slides deliciously against the backs of my thighs with every movement, each thrust pure instinct, pure need. He can’t see me—but the camera can—and somehow that makes it even filthier. Even more desperate.
My nails drag down his arms, leaving red trails in their wake, and he shudders beneath my touch. “You feel so good,” I gasp, arching into him, chasing every inch he gives me. “God, Matt, you—don’t you dare slow down—”
“Never,” he pants, thrusting deeper, harder, until it feels like he’s everywhere, inside me, around me, consuming me. “I couldn’t stop if I fucking tried.”
It’s like soaring, like we’re weightless, suspended in a storm built from want and history and the kind of hunger that refuses to fade.
His hands clamp around my hips, pulling me back onto him as he drives forward, our bodies meeting with a wet, perfect rhythm that steals every coherent thought from my mind.
“Lil’… I swear—” His voice breaks on a moan as I clench around him. “I’ll never get enough of you. Never.”
He kisses along the back of my neck, desperate, messy, perfect. “Let me hear you,” he whispers against my skin, thrusting up into me so hard I see stars. “Let me hear everything.”
“Matt—” I break on his name, my voice high, helpless, ruined. “I’m—I’m so close—”
His grip tightens. His hips slam up. And I swear the world tilts, cracks, explodes around us.
“Come for me,” he growls. “Show me… show me how much you need me.”
And I do.
I fall apart, shaking, gasping, crying out his name as pleasure ripples through me so violently I can barely cling to him. He holds me through it, thrusting through my climax until he breaks too, a raw, beautiful sound tearing from his throat as he spills into me, body shuddering against mine.
For a moment, we’re just a tangle of shaking limbs, leather, sweat, and breathless moans.
And then we start laughing. Quiet, breathless, giddy, like two people who’ve survived something impossible and finally get to live again.
“So much for the mask staying on,” I tease, twisting just enough to see the curve of his grin.
“So much for not saying my name,” he fires back, smug and ruined and beautiful.
I kiss him, slow and certain.
Because this—this ridiculous, chaotic, overwhelming love—is ours.
The past is behind us. The danger is gone. The ghosts have finally stopped chasing us.
And as Matt rolls us onto our sides, tucking me against his chest like he never intends to let me go again, I realise something with absolute, bone-deep clarity:
We made it.
Not perfect, not unscarred.
But together.
For the first time, the future doesn’t feel like something I’m chasing between London investors, half-finished sketches, and stolen moments. It doesn’t feel like a risk or a compromise.
It feels reel and tangible in a way I can’t wait to explore.
“Ready for whatever comes next?” Matt murmurs into my hair.
I smile, heart thudding steadily and sure.
“With you?” I whisper. “Always.”
And that’s how our new story begins—side by side, no secrets left, no fear between us, just love and heat and the whole damn future waiting.
Together.
Always.