Epilogue
JAMISON
Seven Years Later
I t’s our anniversary tonight. We got married on a different day, but the day I got my freedom from Bellevue Asylum is the one we celebrate each year. It’s the day our lives were really able to begin.
Our kids don’t know the truth about how we met. Or that we spent the first few months of our relationship living in a hotel. We decided a long time ago that they don’t need to know all the details.
When my father was arrested for the murder of Dr. James Crane, all of his assets were frozen and my trust was unlocked. After that, I was able to buy us a home, and we never had to worry about money again.
Eventually there was a trial, and my father was convicted. He’s now serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Dr. Rourk was the one who found out all the dirt on Dr. Crane and my father, and he testified in court. My father tried to appeal, but the second judge said he could be released to Bellevue Asylum to live out the remainder of his sentence and my father declined. For now. I’ve often wondered how he would survive in the same prison he locked me in, but most of the time I forget he exists.
After leaving Bellevue, I went back to school and got my PhD in psychology. I don’t practice much, but every now and then I get a call from Dr. Rourk about a patient. True to my word, I never asked him any questions about how he was able to get me released. He never offered an explanation either, and I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Some boxes are better left shut.
That’s what Mia has taught me over the years. There doesn't have to be an answer for everything, and sometimes knowing still won’t give us the closure we want.
“Jamison?” Mia asks when she finds me in our walk-in closet. “What are you doing in here?”
“Picking out what you’re going to wear tonight.” I take the dress off the rack and drape it across the small couch we have in the middle of our closet.
“You know I love it when you do that.”
She comes over and places her hands on my chest before her fingers go to my tie. She’s just finished her hair and makeup, and I have the urge to mess it up. Even after getting my doctorate degree, I don’t know exactly why I like seeing her that way. Maybe it’s because of what I saw as a child or maybe it’s because when her makeup is smeared it’s because I’ve done it to her.
“Take this off,” I tell her as I tug on her bathrobe.
“Won't we be late for our reservation?” She bites her bottom lip and unties the robe.
“I need to fuck you first.”
She nods as if she understands, and maybe she does. After all these years, she knows me better than I know myself. I guess she always has.
Her robe drops to the floor, and I see she’s tied a pale blue ribbon around her waist. She’s completely naked except for the pretty little bow, and I growl in the back of my throat. Over the years, she’s started hiding them on her body if she doesn’t put them in her hair, and I’ve grown to love this game.
“Sit,” I order, and she quickly obeys as she takes a seat on the couch. “Hands over your head.”
Mia reaches for the rope along the back of the couch and holds tightly as I remove my belt. I use it to pop the inside of her thigh and make her spread her legs farther apart. When she does, I see just how wet her pink folds are, and my mouth waters.
I fall to my knees and drop the belt as I dive face first into her pretty little cunt. I moan at the familiar taste that has remained my obsession since the first time I had it. She rocks her hips to get closer to my mouth, and I smack her thigh before groping them tight.
I can see the little bruise I left on her hip last night when I got carried away. I was holding her down too tightly, but she kept begging for me to go harder. That’s something we’ve had to fine tune over the years, but the more we make love, the better it gets. She understands my need to control her, and it gets her off in the process.
“Right there,” she moans when my tongue circles her clit. Her voice goes higher, and then she cries just as she cums on my face.
Her orgasm is still going when I flip her over onto her belly and thrust in hard from behind. She cries out at the quick entrance when I yank her hips back. I’m aggressive as I take her from behind, and her fingers start to slip on the rope.
“Angel. If you let go of that fucking rope, I swear to god I’ll stop.”
“No!” she cries, and I see her hands wrap around the rope so she doesn’t lose her grip.
Reaching between us, I untie the ribbon and gently wrap it around her neck. I hold my hand over it and squeeze as I go deeper and deeper.
“That’s it, pretty angel. Beg me to breathe.”
She gasps, and I feel her pussy getting wetter. Her knees spread wider, and she closes her eyes as her orgasm builds. My cock swells and my balls tighten as she takes every thick inch.
There’s a little cry that escapes her when my fingers dig into her throat, and then she cums hard. Her body goes limp in my arms, but I keep fucking her to make it last longer. She’s so damn wet it’s running down her thighs, and I have no willpower to stop my own climax.
“Fuck.” I groan like I’ve been punched in the gut and fall down on top of her. My hand releases from around her neck as wave after wave of cum pours into her. Every part of me throbs as I fill her up, and she whimpers while gripping my cock tighter.
“I need a nap,” Mia says and then laughs.
“Not on your life. We’ve got a babysitter for the whole night, so get those dancing shoes on, angel.” When I pull out, I see the traces of our lovemaking run down her legs and I rub it in. I love having my mark on her in every way possible.
“Keep that up and I’ll want to go again,” she says as she rocks her hips in invitation.
I cock my head to the side and think it over, but I know if we don’t leave now, we never will. “Come on, I’ll help you get dressed.”
“A collar?” she asks when she sees the dress. When I nod in confirmation, she grins.
The collar of the dress is high enough that it will cover the marks my fingers made. She likes having them but doesn’t like the stares she gets when we’re out in public. After I retie the ribbon around her belly, I slide the dress over her head. Once that’s done, I stand back and look her over.
Her hair is in knots, the dark liner around her eyes is smudged, and her lipstick is half off.
“You look perfect,” I say before I pull her into my arms and kiss her like I haven’t done it in years. “Like you’ve been thoroughly fucked.”
“Exactly what I was hoping for,” she says and then kisses me back.
Although I fell in love with my wife in an asylum, our love could never be locked away. We were destined for this moment and to have our own happily ever after.
“I love you, angel,” I say as I look into her eyes.
“And I love you.”
“Now let’s go to dinner so I can fuck you in the bathroom of the restaurant.” Her eyes widen, but I know what that look means.
She’s just as dangerous as I am.
THE END