Epilogue
W alking through the glass doors of O’Neill’s HQ is like slipping back in time. The minute they close behind me, the outside world fades. Gone is the chaos, the heartbreak, the bloodshed. In here, there’s only polished floors, sharp suits, and the thrill of walking familiar halls with new purpose.
For the next hour or so, I’m not a survivor, a mother, or a woman piecing herself back together. I’m an assistant again—and Mr. O’Neill expects nothing but first-class service.
As I bypass the reception desk and head straight for the private lift, anticipation coils hot and tight in my belly. I tug at the hem of my skirt, suddenly hyper-aware of how short it is, how bare I am beneath it.
The lift climbs, slow and steady, every passing floor tightening my pulse.
When it spits me out at the top, I’m practically vibrating.
Slipping into my old office, I head straight for the connecting door and enter the code. As soon as the door unlocks, I drop to my knees, crawling towards his desk as he watches me with a phone pressed to his ear, keeping up his conversation with a hungry gleam in his dark eyes.
He doesn’t say a word. Just watches.
And God, do I feel seen .
It feels like it takes years to cross the distance between his door and desk.
Sliding his chair back, he leaves just enough room for me to slip in, raising a brow in challenge.
Invitation or command—I don't care. I crawl between his legs like I belong there. Because I do. Before I can even begin to catch my breath, he’s closing the distance between us. Suddenly, I’m trapped.
Just as suddenly, his hands appear below the desk, unbuckling his belt and freeing himself from his trousers.
God, just seeing it makes my mouth water.
I must be too slow for his liking, because his hand darts out to grab a fistful of my hair.
Pulling me towards him, he angles his hips towards my mouth, and who am I to refuse?
I suck him down, swallowing around him as he keeps talking like nothing's happening. It’s filthy.
Intimate. And so fucking hot I nearly come from the act alone.
The knowledge that, any second, we could be found has me worshipping his cock like my life depends on it.
I use everything I’ve got—hands, lips, tongue, hollowed cheeks, gentle moans.
I worship him with my mouth like it’s my calling.
His grip tightens. His hips flex. But his voice stays level. Calm.
Until the line goes dead.
I’m so wrapped up in what I’m doing, I don’t hear him ending his call. One minute, I’m blissfully sucking his dick like it’s my job, and the next, he’s shoving his chair back and staring down at me, nostrils flared and a dark expression on his face that screams trouble.
Game fucking on.
“Do you have any idea how distracting you are?” he growls.
I fight a shiver. “Mhm, but isn’t that what you wanted, Sir?”
“You needy little slut. Get the fuck up here.” I crawl out with a deliberate sway to my hips. Before I can rise fully, he grabs me by the hair and hauls me to my feet, then tosses me onto the desk. Papers fly. He doesn’t blink.
“My, you really are a whore, aren’t you? Who else would turn up to work without underwear?” He tsks, taking my thighs in his hands and spreading them further apart. “And what’s this?”
Pressing a hand to the butt plug, he goes to take it out, drawing a whine from my throat.
“Please, Sir. I don’t want to be empty,” I beg, spreading my pussy open for him and dipping my fingers into my own wetness.
With a curse, he leaves the plug and slaps my hand away.
“These are my holes. You want something? You ask.” Grinding his fingers against my clit, he proves his point.
I squirm, trying to get more friction where I need it most, but he’s having none of it.
He moves his hand away, sucking on his fingers as he watches me squirm before he takes his cock in hand with a smirk.
“Let’s see how well you can take me.” Slapping his cock against my pussy, the wet sounds echoing around us, he teases us for a brief moment before slamming inside me.
With one hand braced beside my head and the other wrapped around my throat, he pins me to the desk as he drives his hips into mine.
All I can do is wrap my legs around his waist and moan for more as I hold on for dear life.
“You’re fucking dripping for it,” he growls.
“Please,” I whine, undone already.
“You’ll take what you’re given .” He pulls out of my pussy, pulls the plug free, and presses the head of his cock against my ass.
My breath catches.
“No... I can’t.”
“Yes, you fucking can.” He coats himself with lube—when the hell did he even grab that?
—and starts inching his way in, bit by bit, until I’m so full, I can feel him in my throat.
Just when I think I’ve adjusted to the feeling, he pulls out, only to thrust back in to the hilt, and holy shit .
When he thrusts two fingers back inside my pussy, stars explode behind my eyes as he claims my ass at the same time.
“See? I knew you could take it. Such a pretty fucking ass. Look how good you are for me.” As filth drips from his lips, I climb higher and higher until, with a shout, I clamp down on his cock.
Stars explode behind my eyes. My entire body trembles.
“Shiiiit,” he groans as I pull his orgasm from him, flooding my ass with his cum. For a moment, we stay like that, him buried in my ass, his face in my neck.
We stay like that—connected, breathless, wrecked. Finally, he eases out and, before I can even breathe, slips the plug back into place.
I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
He grins, wild and unapologetic. “What can I say? I like seeing my cum where it belongs.”
He helps me off the desk and pulls me into his lap. One hand strokes my hair; the other cradles my thigh. He kisses my temple.
“Was that everything you wanted?”
“And so much more,” I murmur, smiling against his lips.
Life’s still a storm. We’re still hunting monsters.
But in his arms, in this moment?
I finally know what peace tastes like.
And it’s damn good.