Epilogue #2
“I was so reckless,” he said breathlessly, rubbing himself against my thigh. “Anything could’ve happened to me.”
I tried to look unimpressed at his antics, but he was so damn good at this.
“So what are you going to do to me, Jon?”
“It depends,” I said, teasing his lips with my thumb. “If I draw you a line, are you going to respect it?”
His grin turned wicked. He leaned in and pressed his lips lightly against mine.
“No,” he whispered. “But I’ll admire it while I step over it.”
* * *
COOPER
Jon’s eyes darkened. “Is that so?” he asked.
A sound slipped out of me before I could stop it—half excitement, half nerves.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I’m not a fan of rules.”
“Huh. Yet you’ve been begging for a spanking all week,” he said calmly, making my cock throb. “Haven’t you?”
I meant to deny it, just to prolong our game, but I heard myself moaning an eager yes.
“You’re going to get it now.” He was watching me closely, like always, checking I was okay. “Over.”
I was already on his lap, and my face burned as I adjusted, draping myself face down across his thighs. I turned to glance at him. His expression hit me even harder than the command, hardening my dick.
The strength of his thighs beneath me made me feel equally safe and horny. His hand moved slowly over me through the fabric then tugged my sweats down.
He cursed at the sight. “When did you buy these?”
“Why, you like them, Alpha?” I asked innocently.
“Oh, I like them,” he said, voice roughening. “And I’m going to enjoy them while I put you in your place. You’re going to come in these panties, brat.”
My mouth went dry. I was already melting, and he hadn’t even started.
“Color,” he reminded me, his hand settling firm and steady at the small of my back.
“You don’t need to ask it every time,” I whispered into the sheet, fingers tightening in the fabric.
“Oh, I know. But hearing you say it turns me on.”
Oh.
“Green,” I said with a satisfied little sigh, squirming a bit.
“You want me to spank you.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my balls tightening just from the thought of his palm. “I . . .” God, saying it out loud always did something to me. Stripped me bare in a different way. “I want this. Need this. Spank me, Jon, please—”
Smack.
The first strike landed hard, the sound snapping through the room. My whole body jerked, making my cock rub against his thigh.
Smack. Smack.
The rhythm built quickly, each impact grounding me more deeply, stripping away the noise in my head one layer at a time.
But it wasn’t just the impact that soothed me, it was the way he stayed with me through it.
The way his hand never rushed, the way he never lost control.
I trusted him more than I’d ever trusted another person. Needed, wanted, loved—more than anyone.
My fingers curled tighter, a broken sound slipping out, and I squirmed against him, enjoying the blooming heat.
“You said you’d admire the line while you stepped over it,” Jon said, his hand coming down again, firm and unrelenting. “And that’s fine.”
Smack.
He showed me no mercy. I loved it.
“I’ll always catch you on the other side.”
Something in me gave. My skin burned, tears slipping free, but beneath it all . . . peace. The steady rhythm that pulled me further under until all that was left was the overwhelming need building low in my belly.
“Jon—” My voice cracked. His hand paused instantly as he checked where I was. That was the worst part. Or the best part. He knew my limit better than I did. My earlier attitude was gone, replaced by an agonizing need.
“What?” he asked quietly.
“I—” I couldn’t finish it.
“Use your words.”
I shook my head helplessly, moaning.
Smack.
Air caught in my chest.
“Please,” I croaked. I was so close to coming.
The orgasm had been building, pulling, tormenting me.
Jon’s hand slowed from impact to softer touch, anchoring me back to the moment.
He slipped his hand under the lace, one finger circling my rim.
There was so much slick already—he’d been right about the pre-heat—and I gasped with pleasure.
“Make a mess of this pretty lace you wore for me.”
I rubbed myself once more against his thigh, and then I spilled. I cried out from the intensity.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “I love seeing you like this.”
Slowly, he pulled me up, wiping the tears from my face.
I looked at him, already knowing what came next.
It was an important part of our routine, something I craved almost as much as his palm.
Swiftly, Jon removed his clothes, then guided me onto the bed.
An excited sound escaped me when I realized what he was planning.
This was something I’d been pestering him for.
He helped me position myself so my head hung off the edge.
“Does it feel okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Color?”
“Just give me your cock already,” I whined. “Green,” I added after he gave me one of his looks.
He didn’t show me mercy in this either, not that I wanted any. I wanted him rough. I wanted his cock to stretch my mouth and make my jaw ache. I only ever wanted more. I gagged as he grazed the back of my throat. Eyes watering, I adjusted to the rhythm.
“Relax your throat,” he commanded. “That’s it. Let me fuck that bratty mouth.”
Then that’s what he did, and I loved every second, every grunt and thrust.
“You’re doing so good. Fuck, Coop, I’m gonna come so fucking hard.”
I felt his cock swell, and then cum flooded my throat.
“Fuck,” he said breathlessly, helping me to get up. “Everything okay?”
“Peachy.”
He chuckled. “Don’t ever change, Coop.”
“That’s easy to promise.”
He went to the bathroom and returned with a warm cloth. Gently, he helped me remove the lingerie that was sticky with cum. His thumb moved slowly along my side, like he was checking I was still there.
“Hey,” I murmured, my voice soft and wrecked as he cleaned me. My throat burned deliciously. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“When did you know? Like, for real. That you wanted me.”
His hand stilled. I thought he might brush off my question, but then he smiled.
“When you broke the code.”
I groaned. “Oh my God. Really?”
“You didn’t just break the code, you broke my build,” he said, like it was that simple. “In more ways than one.”
“Smooth.” I giggled, taking the water bottle he handed me. “But you didn’t look like you were falling for me that day. You looked like you were going to kill me.”
“Kill or kiss,” he said quietly, his gray eyes glinting. “Both crossed my mind.”
His hand came up, pushing my hair back from my face.
The gesture was so tender that it made me squirm.
Jon wasn’t a lovey-dovey kind of guy. He was more of a touch-him-and-die type.
But he was my guy. And God, I loved him.
I loved him so much it was embarrassing.
Sometimes I’d wake up in the dead of night just to stare at him in the dark, soaking in the quiet certainty that he was mine and I was his.
“Anyway,” he said, clearing his voice. “That’s when I knew I was fucked.”
I snorted softly. “Always so eloquent.”
He chuckled.
“Your turn,” he said. “When did you know?”
I settled deeper into my pillow, feeling the sleepiness creeping closer.
“Well,” I said, smirking. “I was fifteen and on my way back from the mall . . .”
THE END