Epilogue

10 years Later

Liz

The crowd breaks into a roar when he steps onto the stage. These days, his dark hair is short on the sides and front, but longer at the back. The mullet is styled to match his father’s, giving him a cool retro feel. Eli looks like his father’s twin, standing in front of thousands of people with a guitar strapped to his shoulder.

It’s the last song of the night, and Sebastian just invited in his special guest.

My eyes well up with tears when my husband introduces our son to the roaring crowd, and then the two start singing together. I’ve heard the song a million times. Ever since Eli found out that he would be going on stage with his father, the two have been practicing nonstop. At times, I would wake up at odd hours of the night to the two strumming their guitars and writing songs in our home studio. Good thing the room is soundproof, or Cara and I would be sleep-deprived from all the noise.

Speaking of Cara, I look down to see the six-year-old asleep on her seat. It’s quite amazing that she can sleep here. Even with the noise-canceling headphones, the place is buzzing with enough energy to start a fire. I consider waking her up so she can watch her brother perform but decide against it. It’s been a long evening for her, and besides, she watched them perform together in the rehearsals earlier.

My heart swells with love as I watch her sleeping face, adjusting the shawl over her shoulders before turning back to the duo on stage.

I wasn’t surprised when our son took a liking to music. How could he not, considering the time he spent with his father in the studio as a toddler? When Sebastian quit his old label, he decided to start his own and continued his career as a solo artist and never looked back. Perhaps he was never meant to be in a band, and the moment the spotlight was on him alone, his career took off to unimaginable heights. His popularity doubled and so did his success.

And now, he has thousands of people yelling his name, but he’s all mine.

The song ends and the stadium roars once more as the two bow, waving at the audience, and I can’t help the pride that swells in my heart. That man, with tattoos all over his arms and chest and an artfully styled mullet, belongs to me.

Only me!

I watch as the father-son duo leave the stage, then I lean down and lift the sleeping girl into my arms, carrying her out of the VIP section. The security hired to watch over us guides us away so we don’t get mobbed by the people trying to take photos, and we make it backstage without the girl in my arms stirring once.

“Lizzy!”

I turn around at the sound of my husband’s voice seconds before I am crushed into his embrace. He wraps his arms around us, and I feel my heart swell with love at the perfection of the moment.

“You were so great, honey. The crowd was having fun the whole night. I had fun.”

“So much fun that Cara dozed off,” he teases.

I laugh, pulling back from the embrace to stare into those eyes I have always loved. “The screaming and dancing wore her out,” I say, following him to his dressing room. I slowly lay Cara down on the couch, adjusting her shawl to let her sleep before turning to my husband and son, except he’s alone. “Hey, where’s Eli?”

“He left with Mark and some of the backup dancers to grab snacks for everyone,” he says, referring to his manager of the last decade. “And before you say anything, I told Mark to keep the chocolate bars to one,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling my neck. “The boys will be back soon, so we ought to make the most of our time alone.”

“Sebastian…” I giggle when he grabs my hand and pulls me to the door that opens into a closet, closing it behind us. It’s a tight space, but we can’t risk waking the sleeping girl in the next room. It’s useless to argue with Sebastian and expect him to wait until he gets home. He always gets this way after every performance.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you,” he rasps into my ear, sliding his hands up my dress. I bite back a whimper when he peels my underwear down my legs to the floor of the closet. A tremble racks my body when he brings his fingertips between my legs and runs them over my damp sex. “You are so wet. I haven’t even touched you, kitten.”

He doesn’t need to. Watching Sebastian perform has always been foreplay for me, and I imagine thousands of other women in the crowd. His sultry voice just has that effect, and it leaves my panties soaked. Probably mine and a thousand others. The difference is that only I get relief from this man.

Only I get to feel his touch!

“Need you,” I whisper, tracing my hand down his firm chest and loving every second my hand grazes his muscles. I trace the tattoo above his chest with my initials on it. Sebastian has a tattoo of our son and daughter on his shoulder, but the one on his heart was a wedding gift to me. Visible for the whole world to see.

I read the fire in my husband’s eyes, but before he can lean in to kiss me, I go down on my knees. He hisses out a sharp breath when I start to unbuckle his belt, tugging down his zipper before rubbing the palm of my head over his bulging erection, pushing hard against his boxer briefs.

“Take me out,” he says thickly, combing his fingers through my hair and grabbing a fistful.

I slide my hand into his briefs and take out his cock, wrapping my fist around his massive girth. With my eyes locked on his heated ones, I lean in and drag my tongue over the tip of his cock, tasting the salt on his tip. “Fuuuck, baby!” he growls, tightening his fist in my hair.

“You looked so hot on stage, babe. I wanted to join you up there and get on my knees for you. Have everyone watch me swallow your cock.”

“Fuck, kitten, you can’t say things like that and expect me to behave.”

I flutter my lashes at him. “I don’t want you to behave. I want you to take me…use me.”

Something dark and dangerous crosses his eyes from those words. He grabs his cock with his free hand and guides it to my lips, pushing it so deep my eyes crowd with tears. He pulls back before sliding it back in my mouth a couple more times, fucking my throat how I imagined he would when he was on stage.

“Is this how you like it? Choking on your husband’s cock?” he growls, inching his erection deeper into me until he cuts off my air for a few seconds before pulling out with a curse. “Fuck me! You look so hot, kitten, with your lips stretched around my cock!”

I’m still gasping for air when he grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. Sebastian spins me around and shoves my legs open before I hear him go down on his knees behind me. I barely have time to process it when I feel the wet press of his tongue against my flesh. I cry out when he starts lapping at my sex like a starved man, riding his eager tongue over my drenched sex before closing his mouth hotly around my clit with wet suction. I’m panting and sobbing when he slides his finger into my entrance, making deep guttural sounds as he teases the swelling bud, and when I climax, my legs threaten to give out.

It’s an overload of sensation, and I am barely conscious when my husband climbs to his feet behind me. My sex is still pulsing from the climax when he guides his massive erection to my entrance and slams deep into me with a single thrust. My back arches, and I can barely control the sounds I’m making when he starts pounding into me.

Ten years of marriage to him, and he still leaves me feeling weak in the legs. I was right about being addicted to him because he is all I can ever think about. With how much love we make, it’s a wonder we don’t have a bunch of kids running around.

“I love you, Lizzy,” Sebastian growls into my ear, his moves turning fevered as he hammers into me, taking me fast and hard until my toes are off the ground. He drops his hand between us, and his fingers find my sensitive nub, stroking it until I am practically gasping for air from the intensity of it all.

When we climax, it happens together. Our pleasured noises fill the small space as he floods me with his cum, marking me as his. Always his. His breathing is labored when he finally drops his head to my shoulder. “We should probably get out of this closet before our son comes back.”

As if on cue, a loud knock sounds on the main door, followed by Eli’s excited voice chatting with someone. I chuckle at the sound. “I figure we have a minute before they come busting into the room.”

Sebastian nods, pushing back to straighten his clothes, and I do the same. We step out of the closet just our son bursts into the dressing room carrying bags of food. “Look what Mark got us. So many snacks!”

I watch as my husband joins our son on the couch, both careful not to wake the sleeping girl next to them. Those three are the most important people in my life, and not for the first time, I am grateful for the short time I spent as Sebastian’s fake girlfriend. That was the beginning of our love story, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

~The End