Epilogue
EPILOGUE
C harlie
“Do you still want to know what crimes I am responsible for, pet?”
I am lying naked languidly in bed, in a sunbeam that seems to reach us first, high in Marcus’ penthouse. The rest of the city languishes in shadows, but he and I have our own little slice of Olympus here. Marcus is behind me, his muscular body sheltering me from all evils besides the ones inside him.
Much time has passed since my reckoning in the Embassy, and I have come to accept my place with Marcus. There is no escaping him, even if I wanted to—and I do not want to.
What is between us might be wrong and twisted, but it is also close, and connected, and deeply fulfilling. We know one another in ways I have never known anybody else. We know where we are right, but more importantly, we know where we are wrong. There is a darkness between us I have never been able to indulge before, and I adore it—and him.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, no. I don’t think so.”
He smirks at me handsomely. “That would be a burden, wouldn’t it. To know precisely what I am capable of, to really understand the type of man you belong to… that would be hard for a sweet little pet like you. You would be better off believing I was a good man.”
“Pets don’t care what kind of people their owners are,” I hear myself say.
“That’s true,” he chuckles. “But I never imagined I’d hear someone as dedicated to the truth, and all its terrible consequences, say such a thing.”
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind. Maybe I’ve grown.” My smile turns into a wicked grin. “Maybe I don’t have a choice because I’m your fucking prisoner.”
“Uh-uh,” he says, feigning sternness I know he doesn’t really feel right now. “Don’t get an attitude with me now, Charlie, not after all the atoning you’ve been doing lately. Be a good girl for me.”
“Doesn’t matter if I’m good. You’re stuck with me.”
His brows lift, and he lets out a laugh of surprise. “Is that what you’ve taken away from this entire ordeal?”
“Well, you don’t want to let me go, and you’ve brought me into your world, and you’ve told me that you own me a hundred times, so it makes sense to me that you’re stuck with me.”
“Mhm,” he says, rubbing his hand over my thigh. “You’re being a very good girl, except for this attitude.”
“The best pets always end up spoiled.”
His tone dips with exciting warning. “You could end up being disciplined quite severely if you don’t start speaking with respect.”
Marcus
I am being stern, but the truth is, I love hearing her speak like this. It’s one thing to hold a woman captive and turn her into my sexual fuck pet. It’s something else for that woman to truly accept her position and settle into it with enthusiasm.
Before that fateful night, I thought the ordeal at the Embassy might break her. I thought she would be so completely shattered she wouldn’t dare give me anything like attitude ever again. I thought she deserved it. And I thought I wanted that outcome.
But this is better.
This is something much deeper. She understands me. I don’t know how she does that, but she does. She knows how to play with me, in spite of the fact that I am a terrifying creature to play with, and I often play rough.
“Be careful, pet,” I caution her. “You’ve had enough for a few days as least, haven’t you?”
She looks over her shoulder ruefully, trying to catch a glimpse of the welted lines that remain on her ass. I am never gentle with her. I am always sure to make her a very sore, very sorry little thing. Thinking those thoughts makes my cock start to get hard again. There’s something about her that turns me the fuck on.
“You could be nice to me,” she says. “You could give me cuddles and kisses, and you could pet me sweetly and tell me what a good girl I am while you feed me treats.”
“I’ve got a treat for you,” I say, my tone suggestive as I arch my hips forward.
“Are you never not ready to have sex?” She giggles the question, and a cute little blush spreads over her nose and cheeks.
“With you? No. I’m always ready for you.”
“I do want treats, though. I am hungry. Are you going to feed me anything other than cock, Marcus?”
I put my forefinger under her chin and rub the pad of my thumb over her lower lip. “I think you could earn some very nice treats if you wanted. But first, I have to do some work. Come with me, pet.”
Charlie
Marcus is working, on a call.
I am still quite naked, lying on my back across part of Marcus’ desk, two of his thick, powerful fingers stroking slowly in and out of me. Occasionally, he’ll pause for a moment, and then the pad of his thumb finds that hypersensitive bud of my clit. He swipes and rubs and then goes back to fingering me.
I am his personal little executive fucktoy.
He stands up, walks around the desk, and tips my head back by my hair to allow my throat to open up. My lips wrap around the thick shaft of his cock as he pushes it into my mouth, over my tongue, and deeper still.
He’s very immersed in his conversation on the phone. He is not letting on what he is doing. He is just fucking my mouth as casually as he was fingering my pussy, making me take it. His hand splays across my belly, pinning me in place, keeping me where he wants me.
Occasionally, the hand drifts up and caresses my breasts, pinching a nipple lightly before going back to tap my mound in a way reminiscent of spanking.
Just as I think I am about to lose my mind from this erotic torture, he pulls his cock out of my mouth and leans down. His dark eyes bore into mine. My jaw aches, my throat feels raw from his use, but his kiss is a salve of passion and devotion.
“I love you,” he murmurs, offering a brief little window into what passes for his soul.
“I love you too,” I whisper back in the short moment between him standing and sliding his cock back between my lips, leaving me with nothing other than animal expression of moaning, grunting, and eventually, if I am very, very good—coming.
The End