Epilogue - Part Two

Blaise

Let me ask you one thing before I chase the love of my life and fuck him into the dirt: can you think of that one small moment in your life that changed the trajectory of your future. Think hard. Let’s call it your before and after. Something happened that changed everything. Maybe it even seemed insignificant in the moment, but without that one event, however big or small, you wouldn’t be here today. It’s also known as the one moment that defined your now. We all have one. It’s almost as if we’re dancing to an imaginary tune. Maybe that moment and every moment since seem like a random sequence of events, but looking back in the rearview mirror, you realize all those moments where you felt lost, held your hand all along.

The flickering flames dance across Cole’s sharp facial features. Time has been kind to him. If anything, he’s more handsome now than five years ago when he chased me down in the woods.

You guessed it.

That was our moment.

He stares down at the black mask in his hands, his eyes brimming with emotion.

Life has a way of coming full circle.

“Put it on.”

Cole’s blue eyes flick up, and his Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow.

“I won’t tell you again.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth, easing his sharp features. It doesn’t matter how many years pass, Cole still brings me to my damn knees. Sometimes, like when his fucking phone dies, I can’t stop the fear creeping into my heart at the prospect of losing him. I almost did once. Never again.

I tilt my chin in his direction. “Mask on now.”

The fire shoots sparks into the night sky.

“Bossy,” Cole teases, but follows my order.

My heart hammers harder in response. Back then when he first claimed me, it was me running through the dark woods with Cole hot on my heels. I didn’t know who it was, but one thing was clear as day: I wanted it to be him. I wanted it so fucking badly.

When the mask is on, Cole drops his arms by his sides and blinks at me through the holes while awaiting further instructions.

Nothing excites my dick more than his submissive side. Especially after he has spent days away, letting his aggression out on the football field. Not that I allow my thoughts to drift in that direction. Last time I watched him play, I almost stormed the pitch and choked the fucker who shoulder sacked him and then had the fucking audacity to lie on top of him.

My eye twitches just thinking about it.

Fuck that… I need to bleach my brain or act on my murderous instincts. Either will do. But since Cole is less appreciative of the little psycho devil on my shoulder, I have to let my jealous side out to play in the bedroom instead. Besides, Cole secretly loves it, which is why he teased me earlier. He should know better than to poke the bear.

I tilt my head to the side, a smile spreading across my lips beneath the mask. “Five years ago, you chased me down and made me choke on your dick.” Cole watches me closely as I bend over to pick up the hockey stick in the grass. I straighten back up, resting it on my shoulder, and Cole’s eyes widen. “I’m curious what went through your head when you realized it was me. I mean…” Chuckles rumble in my chest. “It’s quite obvious what went through your head, if you get my drift. You were hard as a rock.”

Cole steps back, but his eyes never leave the hockey stick. Noticing, I twirl it. “Nice touch, don’t you think? Maybe I should whack you in the head with it, like you did to me at the swimming pool, remember? I always liked your brand of foreplay.”

More sparks erupt from the fire, the flames crackling in the night. “Here’s what will happen.” I press the hockey stick against his chest. “I’ll count to ten real nice and slow while you run like your life depends on it. The faster you run, the harder I’ll fuck you. Hear me? I want to fight for it. If you make it too easy for me, I’ll fuck you soft and gentle, like I imagine your team’s physiotherapist, who keeps giving you the fucking eyes would do.” I shove him with the hockey stick to drive home the point of how much I want to murder that man. “You should let me dispose of him, by the way.” I shrug, like we’re discussing what color of tie to wear for his next media event. “I don’t see the problem.”

Cole looks toward the trees, already trying to figure out what direction to run, so I place the stick beneath his chin and guide his eyes back to mine where they belong. “My point is, he would make sweet, tender love to you. But that’s not what you’re into, is it? You like it rough and hard. You crave the fight as much as I do.”

Cole slowly walks backwards, and I follow him step by step. The anticipation darkens his usually pale blue eyes to a deep shade of cobalt, which excites me almost as much as his next swallow. I love how all of these little nervous tells seduces the darkness in me.

“Next time he inspects a strain injury of yours, I want you to remember this.” I pretend to inspect the hockey stick. “He wouldn’t dream of whacking you in the head with it. But I would.” Our eyes meet, and my dick demands we cut this little chit chat short. “I would bruise you, mark you, and then make you come harder than you ever have.”

Another delicious step back.

“What’s the matter, Cole? You look nervous? Maybe even a little scared.” I wet my lips beneath the mask, basking in the hunt. “That’s good. You should be scared.” Resting the stick on my shoulder, I pause with my feet planted wide and my head tilted to the side. “Now, be a good little husband and run.”

Cole hesitates, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.

“One…” My voice lowers. “Two.”

He dashes toward the trees, and I crack my neck in anticipation while continuing to count. The night is alive with sounds. Crickets chirp in the grass, the damp logs crackle in the firepit, and an owl hoots in the distance. We’re still hours away from the sunrise.

“Eight,” I shout, flexing my fingers. “Nine.”

A mild breeze teases the hairs at the nape of my neck.

It’s almost time.

My dick strains against my zipper. Is he still running, or is he hiding behind a tree or boulder somewhere to catch his breath?

“Ten!” I spin the hockey stick. “You better be running.” With a final chuckle and a bounce on my heels, I sprint toward the trees, batting fir branches out of the way.

It’s like entering another realm. Sounds grow muted, the air feels moist, and the temperature drops. I slow my strides, listening for sounds. Cole knows how much I enjoy the hunt, and how I like to drag it out.

Sticks break underfoot as I tighten my grip on the stick. He’s nearby. It’s almost like my body is fine-tuned to his.

I follow the invisible string that connects us, my boots pounding the damp moss. Sweat soon dampens my forehead and the space between my shoulder blades, but I push on. “Run, little rabbit. Fucking run! I’m coming for you.”

A darting shadow shifts somewhere to my left, and I skid to a halt. In the distance, a swooshing sound and a surprised cry cuts through the silence.

Walking forward, I smile wide at Cole thrashing in the swaying net suspended from a branch. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

“What the fuck?” he chokes out. “What the actual hell, Blaise? The fuck is this?”

“It’s called a trap, and you ran straight into mine.” My head tilts, and I chuckle as I poke him with the hockey stick, making the net swing past me. “Looks like I caught an angry rabbit.”

“Fuck you!” he snarls, wriggling enough to make the branch creak from his weight. I wonder briefly if it’ll break and send him crashing to the ground.

“You do some twisted shit,” he spits, “but this beats it all. You’re insane, Blaise. Fucking insane.”

“Such sweet talk. Nothing says I love you more than being called insane by my lover.”

“Let me down.”

“But you look so cute trapped in a net.”

“Cute?” He’s so angry and pent up on adrenaline that he doesn’t care that his mask sits at an angle or that his T-shirt is twisted and halfway up his stomach. “I’m not fucking cute, asshole.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Let me the fuck down.”

I look at my big bulge. “What do you say, Blaise junior, shall we free him?”

“Are you talking to your dick now? Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” I ask, looking up. “His opinion matters, too. You deprived him for the full weekend.”

Cole lets out a frustrated, angry groan, and I can’t stop my lips from twitching at seeing him so enraged.

After tossing the stick to the ground, I fish out a butterfly knife from my pocket and take my sweet-ass time approaching him. “A pretty please would go a long way now.”

He stops thrashing and tosses me a loathing glare, which makes me snigger as I circle the dangling net with my catch inside. “For my first attempt, I think I did a good job.”

“What’s next? A fucking bear trap?”

“Now there’s a thought. Keep the ideas coming. Maybe I’ll dig one of them big holes in the ground and then cover it up.” I place my hand on Cole to stop the net from swinging, and when I rest the blade against the rope, he pales—well, half the side of his face visible beneath his mask.

“What are you doing?”

“You asked me to let you down.” I can’t quite keep the laughter out of my voice.

Cole shakes his head almost frantically. “Blaise, no.”

“No? Make up your mind.”

“I’m in the fucking air. I’ll get hurt.”

“Well…what a pickle.”

Cole curses, sweat beading on his brow—again, the one visible.

I really should tell him to right his mask or remove it completely.

“I love you,” he says, playing on my heartstrings. “Remember when I hurt myself while cutting onions the other week? You nearly tore the kitchen apart.”

“You’re very accident prone,” I mutter.

“Yes… You hate it when I get hurt.”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different.”

“It’s outside of sex,” I reply, sawing the rope.

Cole looks like a ghost, his eyes wide and terrified. “What the fuck are you doing?” he repeats with more panic.

“What does it look like? I’m letting you down. Besides, I know how much fear gets you off.”

The rope begins to split, thread by thread.

We exchange a glance, and then Cole rips off his mask, his glassy eyes pleading for mercy. Before he can open his mouth to speak, the rope snaps and he crashes to the ground with a loud thud.

Groaning pitifully, he writhes, and I study him closely while circling like a hungry predator.

“Jesus fuck…” He grimaces in pain, forehead pressed to the sticks and wet leaves on the ground.

“What’s wrong?” I taunt, using my foot to shove him over onto his back. “Can’t handle it?”

“I can handle it,” he grits out as he watches me unbuckle my belt.

“Are you sure about that? I can always turn to someone else if it’s too much⁠—”

Cole flies up to his feet and shoves me back, his body vibrating with possessiveness. “Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence.”

This is a game we play. Who can make the other the most jealous.

But that’s all it is. There’s no other man for me but Cole, and he knows it. I would rather claw out my eyes and feed them to our dogs than let another man touch me.

Deep down, no matter how insecure I feel at times when he travels away, I know I’m it for him too.

I press the knife to his throat, his eyes holding mine as I guide him back against the nearest tree. A drop of red trails from the shallow cut, and I lower the blade a fraction before leaning in close to drag my tongue through it.

Cole groans and grabs my upper arms to push me away, but it’s half-hearted. While the intent is there, his body speaks a different language. He wants me to hurt him and fuck him and make him bleed all over his designer clothes.

I smile against his throat, and then whisper near his ear, “Did you miss me?”

“So fucking much,” he grunts, his hips chasing my touch as I palm his hard dick through his shorts.

“Is that why your phone was turned off?”

“I told you…” His heavy eyes take in my mask, and he wets his lips. “The battery died.”

Shoving his shorts halfway down his thighs, I grab his hard length. Cole shudders, his lips parting.

I stroke his dick like I own it—stroke it until his soul trembles and his knees quake. My touch drips with possessive intent. I press the tip of the knife to the pulse point in his neck and nick the skin on purpose. A bead of blood rushes to the surface, and Cole sucks in a breath, his dick twitching in my hand.

I observe the hitch in his breathing and swipe my thumb through the precum formed at the tip. Lifting my mask, I lick it off while tipping his chin up with the flat end of the hilt. His cobalt eyes appear almost black, the blue swallowed whole by his blown pupils.

“Kneel.” Swiping more precum from the crown, I smear his lips, resisting the urge to sink my teeth into the soft flesh. My dick has its own heartbeat as I watch him slowly lower himself to the damp ground.

I reach out a hand and grab him by the throat. His pulse thunders beneath my punishing grip as he stares up at me. A small part of me wishes he would put up a fight, but he looks damn delicious at my mercy beneath a canopy of leaves and gnarly branches, which crawl across the sky overhead like a roadmap of veins. Moonlight barely manages to stream through, its silvery hue appearing ghostly.

“Next time your phone dies, I’ll have no choice but to punish you.”

Cole’s throat jumps on a swallow, and I tighten my hold and then unzip my jeans with the hand holding the knife. My fingers drop by my side, and I jerk my chin. “Get my cock out.”

Cole wastes no time pulling my jeans down to reveal my aching dick. The moment it bobs free, he wets his lips and stares at the angry veins and weeping head with so much longing, it’s by some fucking miracle I manage to resist the urge to ram it down his throat.

My husband has always had a natural submissive streak in him, even before he admitted to his feelings for me, and it gets me so hard every damn time. He flicks his eyes up and watches me drag my tongue through the blood on the knife’s flat end. I make sure to leave some on my chin, knowing how carnal it makes Cole when I look monstrous.

Closing my hand over the blade, I drag it across my palm and form a tight fist. Blood soon drips to the ground.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Cole shivers visibly when I fist my dick.

Stroking in long pulls from root to tip, I use the knife to shift some of his dark hair away from his brow. “Show me how much you want your husband’s dick. What a needy slut you are.” I release my cock and tilt my head to the side. Patience has never been my strongest virtue.

He grabs me by the hips and sucks on the head—a move that drives me insane because it’s not enough. I’m not happy unless my crown is smashing against his damn tonsils. He knows it, which is why he’s being a brat now.

I entertain his games for all of two seconds, then say, “Unless you want it to hurt when I take your ass, I suggest you lick it clean of blood. Get it nice and wet.”

Quiet chuckles rumble through his chest at the sound of the barely veiled frustration in my voice, and he takes me deeper, staring up at me as he slowly sinks lower on my cock.

“Shit,” I grunt, fisting his matted hair with my bloodied hand. “You’re so fucking hot on your knees with my dick in your mouth.”

His tongue swirls, and his cheeks hollow. This is what it feels like to have one’s soul sucked from the body. Shivers rush through me, and I grit my teeth against the blinding pleasure that threatens to confiscate my control.

“Fuck,” I groan, my head falling back, my hips stuttering.

Cole swallows around my dick and slides his hand from my hip. My breath hitches when he pushes a single finger against my back hole, breaching the tight entrance.

It’s all it takes. After all these years, my husband knows how to play me like an instrument.

I pull out and yank his head back to bare his neck. He hisses at the sharp hold I keep on his hair, but I don’t ease up. If he can be a fucking brat, he can sure as hell take a little pain while I jerk my dick in front of his face.

With his hands fisted at his sides, he stares up at me. Cole has expressive eyes.

Eyes that goad me to give him my worst.

Fuck…

Cum erupts from my dick, and I clamp my teeth together, quivering from the strength of the orgasm. It goes on forever. At least that’s what it feels like. I struggle to stay upright.

Strings of cum rain over Cole’s face while I hold him prisoner with my death grip on his hair. There’s something inherently carnal about seeing him covered in my release.

Shoving him away, panting hard, I run a hand through my sweaty hair, almost forgetting the mask I’m still wearing. I circle a finger through the air. “Turn around.”

Cole obediently shuffles until he’s facing away from me, and I fist his dark hair. He barely manages to suppress a sharp hiss when I pull on the strands. I’m not gentle. Hurting him turns us both on.

My spent dick is already thinking about another round, so I give it a helping hand, stroking the thickening length while pulling and tugging on Cole’s hair. He tries hard to keep his pathetic little whimpers under control, but fails miserably. Pain has always been his Achilles heel—the one thing that will make him putty in my hands.

Releasing him, I toss the knife on the forest floor, then pull the belt from the loops, ensuring he can hear the seductive slide and clank of the belt, and then I secure it around his neck before slowly lowering myself to my knees behind him.

“Do you want my cock?”

“Y-yes.”

“Is that so?” I taunt near his ear before removing my mask and sucking and nibbling on the lobe. I bite down hard, and Cole nearly comes on the spot. “Hands behind your back.”

When he doesn’t immediately cooperate, I reach into my back pocket, pull out the cheap handcuffs I got from a sketchy website, then secure his wrists one handed. Cole struggles for the first time tonight, but it only excites me more.

The latch finally clicks into place with such finality, I’m surprised the sleeping birds don’t wake up and erupt from the branches overhead.

Cole tries to look at me over his shoulder as he wrings his wrists to escape the cuffs. It’s fruitless. While they’re cheap, I’ve already double and triple checked their durability. No scared, aroused husbands can escape these bad boys.

I lean in close to his ear again and whisper, “Now, be a good boy and open your mouth.”

This time, he obeys, and I waste no time placing the small key on his tongue. “I’m gonna fuck you so damn hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Try not to swallow the key, alright? If you do, you have to explain to the paramedics how you ended up swallowing the key to the handcuffs.” My voice drops. “…with my cum dried on your face, and leaking out of your ass.”

I can feel him stiffen, and it makes me chuckle.

Reaching between our bodies, I tease his butt crack with my dick. “Such a good fucking boy, Cole, playing my twisted games. Don’t do anything stupid. If you spit the key out, I won’t let you come. Not today, not tomorrow, not the day after. Remember the last time I denied you an orgasm?”

He stays silent, unable to talk with the key to his freedom resting on his tongue. I bet his mouth is filling with saliva.

I release my dick and reach into my other back pocket to retrieve the sachet of lube. I tear it with my teeth, spit the torn corner on the ground, and squeeze a healthy dose onto my fingers. The cool liquid threatens to slide to the forest floor. I lube up his back hole, smiling to myself as he trembles from the contact.

“I didn’t let you come for two weeks. This time, I’ll leave it a month.”

Cole whimpers pitifully and shakes his head. If he didn’t have the key on his tongue, he would beg and plead for me to fuck him. If that didn’t work, he’d try to push my jealous buttons. That’s a neat little trick in his back pocket that always gets his way when we play our cat-and-mouse sexual games.

“For once,” I whisper against his pulse point, feeling it thrash beneath my lips, “I’m ahead of you.” In one quick move, I bite down hard and simultaneously ram my dick inside him.

Cole grunts at the sudden intrusion, his neck breaking out in a cold sweat, his body stiff.

“Fuck,” I breathe through clenched teeth, my forehead pressed to the sensitive area where his neck meets his shoulder. “Fucking fuck! You feel so good.”

He shudders, and I reach around to stroke his massive cock. I brush my lips up against his ear again and whisper, “Did you swallow the key?”

Shaking his head, he moves his hips, chasing an orgasm I won’t let him reach just yet. Not until I’ve fucked him so damn good, he feels me every time he sits down for the next week.

I want his ass sore next time he attends a team meeting.

“Mine,” I growl, sliding out to the tip and thrusting back in with such force, he would topple over if it weren’t for the belt around his neck—a belt I have rolled around my palm.

I pull him back, so his spine is glued to my chest, and then I pound his tight hole. My thighs quiver and burn, but even that feels good. Everything feels like heaven when Cole groans like my big dick in his ass is the best thing to happen to him.

His own length throbs in my hand, angry and impossibly swollen. I stroke him slowly, teasing him until he’s right on the edge. The moment I feel him tremble, I release his cock and force my thick fingers into his mouth. Saliva trickles from his lips, and I press down on the key on his tongue while ramming into his ass so hard, I’m surprised we’re still upright.

Cole gags, and more saliva pools in his mouth. I bite down hard on his earlobe, then soothe the sting with my tongue. “I have the best fucking husband in the world. You take my dick so well, don’t you, Cole? I’m so fucking lucky. Feel that? Feel my cock taking what belongs to it? What has always belonged to it even when you were a stubborn brat who used to push me away? I’m the only one who has fucked this ass and the only one who will ever stick my dick in you.”

Raging possessiveness courses through me the more I talk. I apply more pressure to his throbbing cock, then smirk when he groans and chokes around my fingers.

He’s close.

One more filthy, degrading word, and he’ll ejaculate all over the tree in front of us.

Now I’m jealous of nature.

I slide my fingers from his mouth and slam my hand over his mouth and nose. Cole’s eyes blow wide open.

He stands no chance with his oxygen gone, my cock tearing through his ass—pounding and fucking pounding—and his dick pulsing in my hand. Two more strokes, three, and cum squirts from his cock. A guttural groan vibrates his chest. I let go of all control, becoming more animal than man as I fuck him into next Sunday.

The moment the orgasm hits, we collapse forward and pant like we’ve raced a marathon. Cole trembles beneath me as my heart hammers against his back, and I burrow my nose in his neck to breathe in his masculine, citrusy scent.

“I missed you.” My voice cracks at the end. The things I feel for Cole—the sheer magnitude of my feelings—scare me at times like these. My dick is still buried inside him, but I don’t want to roll off him yet. I want to stay here, breathing him in, whispering how much I love him until the morning sun streams through the canopy of leaves overhead.

The key appears from his lips, and he spits it out amongst the leaves. “I missed you too.”

“Don’t leave me again.”

“We can’t be attached to the hip twenty-four-seven.”

“Says who? I’ll kill them for putting such nonsense ideas in your head.”

Chuckling, he shifts onto his back, and I reluctantly let him. My cock misses his heat already.

Squirming, he tries to free his cuffed hands trapped behind his back. “Space is good sometimes. Would you have fucked me this fiercely if I hadn’t been gone?”

I scoff. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I would have.”

Instead of replying, he blinds me with his smile. It’s effortless for Cole. His smiles were always rare until recently, but they never lost their potency. “I love you so fucking much.” He lifts his head off the ground and kisses my nose. “Guess what?”

I peck his lips, whispering, “Tell me?”

More squirming. Cole nips my bottom lip. “We got our happy ending.”

My heart clenches with a surge of happiness, which used to be a foreign emotion but now makes an appearance every time Cole whispers sweet nothings that don’t include you’re insane. Those kind of phrases are reserved for the bedroom with all his other colorful word choices.

“You say that like our story is over.”

“You defeated the villain.”

“There are plenty more villains hiding in the shadows. My job as your husband is never done.”

“What other villains?” His voice drips with contagious humor.

“Your team’s physiotherapist, for one. He’s on my kill list.”

“Isn’t our dentist on that list?”

“Of course. He’s had his fingers in your mouth more times than I can count.”

“Uh-huh… What about our doctor?”

“Mr. Greenwell? Have you not noticed? He magically disappeared after he suggested future prostate exams.”

Cole’s eyes glitter. Overhead, the sky is slowly lightening. “Mr. Greenwell was in the produce section last week, remember?”

“Weird. He must have a twin brother.”

Cole laughs, the sound doing wicked, dangerous things to my heart. It’s like being blinded by a thousand suns.

“Are you gonna remove these cuffs now?”

“Ask nicely, and I’ll think about it.”

Cole sinks his teeth into his lip to stop from laughing. “Please, my beautiful, amazing, considerate husband, will you free me from these handcuffs so I can show you properly how much I missed you while I was away.”

“Amazing, huh? Beautiful.” I wink, reaching for the key, my fingers sliding through leaves and pines.

I pause and frown. Noticing, Cole asks, “What’s wrong?”

“The key…”

“The key? What about it?” He shifts to the side, and I move out of the way. We stare at the ground, exchanging a brief glance, and then I spring forward, tearing at the leaves and wet moss.

“Where did it go?”

“Fuck if I know. It’s got to be here somewhere.”

“This was all your idea.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t into it. Fuck…” I grumble, rolling over and brushing pine off my wet dick.

Cole kicks a pinecone in my direction, making us both laugh. “They’re cheap, right? We can break them.”

I pull a face, remembering how I tested them out beforehand. “Are you sure you didn’t swallow the key?”

“You saw me spit it out,” he replies, laughing disbelievingly.

Climbing to my feet, I pull him up by the arm. We slide our pants up—well, I have to help him since his hands are secured behind his back.

Cole scans the ground, but the key is nowhere to be found. Note to self: next time, get a spare key cut.

“Where are you going?” Cole asks when I walk back toward the house.

“Maybe we have an axe or something. It worked for Jack and Rose, remember?”

Cole catches up, playfully shoving my shoulder with his. “If you chop my wrist off and I die from blood loss, I will haunt you for all of eternity.”

“That’s fine,” I grumble, running a hand down my face. “Just stay away from other ghosts’ dicks.”

The End.