6. Epilogue

Two Years Later

Tessa

"Fucking hell. If you could see yourself right now… You look good enough to eat, Little Red."

"I'm kind of hoping you will."

He laughs darkly, and I can only imagine the hungry grin he's sporting right now.

I literally can only imagine it since I'm currently wearing a blindfold that blocks every ounce of light.

There was a time in my life when I would have been terrified to be in the dark like this. Mortified to be stripped naked and strapped to a bed. But right now? There is nowhere else I could imagine being.

Especially not when I know Ford is prowling around the room. Even with the blindfold, I can feel the hunger in his eyes. He's loving this as much as I am, and I'm really loving it.

In the time we've been together, we've played around often. Ford has opened me up to so many things I didn't realize I'd enjoy, like spanking, anal play, nipple clamps, rope play, and light degradation, but this is the first time he's taken away one of my senses like this. It's as exhilarating as it is scary. Not because I don't trust Ford—I do with my life—but because I can't see his next move. Not knowing what to expect…well, it has me on edge in the best way.

"Roll over," he instructs.

Before we started, Ford informed me he'd leave enough slack in the ties so I could move around as much as I'd like but not be able to touch myself. He wasn't lying, but I didn't expect the silk to be this tight when I rolled over. It's snug and digs into my skin, but not enough to hurt and just enough to remind me I'm at his mercy.

"Ass in the air," he tells me.

I push to my knees the best I can, and the ties tighten even more, and I relish the bite of pain.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice needy and deep. My ass is completely exposed, and at this angle, there's no way Ford doesn't notice the wetness between my legs. "So perfect. So mine."

"Yours," I agree because I am.

I'm his in every sense of the word.

I never expected him to be at the Carolina Comets team party, but I've never been happier to have struck up a conversation with a stranger in my life. Ford's given so much more than I could have ever asked for, and I don't just mean in the sex department.

He listens to me. He supports me. He takes care of me. He protects me.

He loves me.

Ever so softly, he runs his fingertips up my leg, inching closer and closer to where I want to feel him the most. But Ford being Ford, he teases me first, dancing his touch over the back of my knee and up to the wetness that's now slicking my thighs, then back down again. He makes three more passes before allowing his knuckles to graze against me.

I hiss at the contact. It's so subtle yet feels so fucking powerful.

"Please."

I realize my mistake the second the word leaves my mouth.

Ford draws his hand away, and I whimper at the loss.

"Does your needy cunt want more, Little Read?" he asks. "Is that why you're searching for my touch right now?"

I nod. "Yes, sir."

"I'll give you more when I'm ready, understood?"

"I understand."

"Good. Now, rest there. I'll be back in a moment. And Tessa?"

"Sir?"

"Don't even think about trying to rub your cunt against my sheets."

My sheets. As if they aren't ours. As if I don't sleep in this bed next to him every night and haven't for the last two years.

But it's all part of the little game we're playing, the one where he uses me however he likes, and I take it, enjoying it as much as he does.

I strain to hear as he walks around the room, trying to pick up the slightest hint of his actions, but there is none. He's too quiet. Too structured.

Then, the corner of the bed dips, and everything in me tenses with anticipation.

I jump when his fingers brush against my ass, and he chuckles. "I've got a plug, Little Red. Is that okay?"

"Yes." The word comes out a sigh more than anything.

He laughs again. "Didn't think you'd mind."

Since our first weekend together, I've gotten comfortable with Ford playing with both of my holes, and I've come to quite like it when he uses a plug on me. The fullness of it is unmatched, and I always look forward to when he gets it out.

He presses the lubed glass against my exposed hole but doesn't try to insert it. No. He teases me with it, getting me ready, making sure I'm nice and relaxed and dying for more.

When I push back, he knows it's time. Only then does he slowly begin to insert the toy.

He takes his time to ensure he doesn't push me too far too fast, and when it's finally in, we both breathe a sigh of relief.

"That's my girl," he says tenderly, rubbing my ass in soft, slow circles. "You did so good." He gently taps the plug, and I moan. "This looks gorgeous, you know. So perfect."

"Feels good."

He cups me between my legs. "It's going to feel even better with my cock filling this pussy, Little Red."

"Prove it."

I'm pushing my luck. I know I am. But Ford must be as needy as I am because he doesn't punish me for it.

No. Instead, I hear the unmistakable sound of his zipper being pulled down the track and feel him brushing against the backs of my legs as he settles behind me, and I know I'm in for it.

"I'm going to fuck you hard for that one, Tessa."

Well, that's not much of a threat.

I open my mouth to tell him that, but the sarcastic words vanish as he slams into me without warning.

It's hard. It's rough. It's the punishment I expected. And it feels so, so fucking good.

He pounds into me over and over, and I love every second of it until I realize I can't touch myself. I can't do anything other than take this, even though I know my orgasm—the one I'm absolutely dying for—is so damn close, and all it would take is one press to my clit, and I'd be a goner.

"You're close," he observes, like this isn't even affecting him.

"So close."

"That's too bad, hmm? Because I'm not."

I groan, and he laughs, enjoying this far too much.

He continues to thrust into me, and I'm unable to do anything other than let him.

My legs begin to shake with exhaustion, and my shoulders grow tight from being bound and having to hold myself up.

Ford notices.

"Are you ready, Little Red? Do you want to come?"

I whimper, unable to form a complete sentence at this point. It's not enough for him. He wants my words.

He slaps my ass, causing me to clench around the plug, and I moan.

"Tell me. Tell me you want to come."

"I…"

Another slap.

"I want to come," I finally manage to get out. "Please, Ford. Please let me come."

"Only because you asked so nicely…"

Then his fingers are on my clit, and the small touch is all it takes for me to explode around him.

My body is on fire as I come, everything that was hurting turning to liquid as the tension dissipates, leaving me limp.

Ford pounds into me several more times before following me over the edge and spilling himself inside of me with a guttural groan of my name.

He pulls out of me slowly, then reaches forward and undoes the ties. I collapse onto the bed, unable to hold myself up any longer.

Ford follows me down, lying behind me and holding me close as we catch our breaths. He finally undoes the blindfold, letting it fall away, but I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to let this moment go.

"You were incredible," he whispers, his fingertips roaming over my hip and belly. "I'm so proud of you, Tessa."

"Thank you." He knows I don't mean for the compliment but for caring for me afterward. He always does, and it's always almost as good as the orgasm.

He continues to explore me with his fingers, pinching my nipples lightly, then trailing them down to my sensitive core. He plays with me gently with no intention of starting things back up, but my body doesn't get the memo. I'm tired, yet eager for more, especially with his thumb on my clit.

"You know," he says conversationally like I'm not rocking against his touch, begging for more. "I was thinking we should get married."

I halt my movements. "You think…" I swallow. "You think we should get married?"

He nods against me. "Yes. We should. What do you think?"

I sputter out a laugh. "I think you have your fingers on my pussy, and your plug is in my ass, and you just proposed to me."

"Is it really so shocking?"

I chuckle, rolling toward him. "No, Ford. It's really not."

His blue eyes are striking this close, and I don't think I'll ever get used to it. Not even if we had a lifetime together, and I really want a lifetime together.

"What do you think, Tessa?" He cradles my face with his hand, pressing his thumb that was just between my legs against my bottom lip, and I'm unable to stop myself from darting my tongue out. He tastes like us. "You want to get married?"

"Is this real?"

"The ring in the top drawer of my bedside table says it is."

"You got me a ring?"

"I got you a ring, Little Red."

Tears spring to my eyes. He means this. It's not a joke. It's not a spur-of-the-moment thing.

He wants this, and I do, too.

"So what do you say?" he prompts.

"Yes," I tell him. "Yes, I'll marry you, Nicholas Ford."

He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against mine. "Oh, thank fuck. There's a no refund policy on the ring."

I laugh, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Good because I plan to keep it forever."

"Mine," he whispers against me.

"Always," I promise.

We make love again and then begin planning a nighttime summer wedding on the rooftop where we met.

THE END