Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Ophelia

Five Years Later

Iclimb into my Bentley and let out a long breath, leaning my head back against the leather headrest. A smile curves my mouth. The reasons for my happy exhaustion—my twin daughters—wave at me from the upstairs window of the house, Leeza standing behind them with her hands on her granddaughters’ shoulders. I signal my mother-in-law, who lives in the guest house half a mile away on our property, to let her know I’ll be back soon. Then I start the car, pulling around the twinkling stone fountain that sits in our driveway and starting the journey down the tree-lined path to the main road.

Memories reach out to me from all sides. The first time Ezra brought me here two years ago, carrying me over the threshold like a bride, even though we’d already been married three years by then. I can see him chasing our daughters through the orchard, pretending to be a monster, sunlight flickering around their shadows. In a few months, Christmas lights will hang from these trees, making our home look like a winter wonderland.

Life is beautiful.

I’m married to the most hard-working, loving, passionate man on earth and I’m headed to see him right now. My thighs tingle with anticipation as I make a turn onto the road that will take me to the manufacturing plant. The one Ezra built from the ground up and turned into a multi-million-dollar operation in just five years.

Really, he accomplished what he set out to do much sooner than that. In those early days when we moved to Michigan, Ezra found us a small one-bedroom apartment. It was filled with sunshine and it had a small fireplace. Most importantly, it had a bed. Ezra made love to me so many times in that tiny, happy apartment, I lost count. And nothing has changed since we moved to the fourteen-bedroom mansion on Lake Erie.

No, my husband is as starved for my body as ever. More so. His lunch break begins in eight minutes and he made it clear over the phone that I’m on the menu.

My nipples tighten to points inside my dress and I press down a little more on the accelerator, my breath quickening. He took me against the shower wall this morning. So hard that I screamed and drew blood on his back. But we’re insatiable. Most nights he’s barely in the door from work before he’s barking at his mother to take the twins outside to play.

I let out a long exhale and command myself to focus on the road. Crashing wouldn’t be ideal, would it?

The four-year deadline set by my father came and went without us even noticing. My trust fund? I don’t need it.

Ezra had been working on new ideas while in prison and he used them to shake up the automotive industry. His company uses different, sustainable materials to create sleeker parts at lower cost and his empire grew into a behemoth almost overnight. In other words, when we occasionally meet my father for dinner in Manhattan, Ezra picks up the check.

Stillhe doesn’t fit in with the elite world in which I was raised.

No, he’s self-made. He’s fierce. He’s better than all of them.

And he’s all mine.

I flex my fingers on the wheel and the diamond on my finger catches the light. Do I like having all the luxuries he’s given me? Sure, who wouldn’t? I rest easy at night knowing our children will never want for anything.

Would I give it all up and follow Ezra anywhere? Would I go back to living in a one-bedroom apartment in the city? In a heartbeat. I’ll live any life as long as he lives it with me.

I had the idea for my very own business inside the four walls of that first, little apartment. Ezra was so driven to succeed that I was bitten by the entrepreneurial bug myself. We had a nice nest egg to start off, thanks to Ezra’s colleagues’ debt of gratitude, but most of it went toward getting the car parts business off the ground. Still, when I told Ezra I wanted to start my own dark chocolate brand, he made sure to set aside the capital.

Years later, Ophelia’s Chocolate is beginning to expand. I have several orders to fulfill for major food retailers and interest grows daily. Ezra’s need to keep me safe and close to home led to him building an industrial kitchen and packaging room on our property, so I can leave my employees to their work and spend time with our children with ease.

I’m so grateful for every single moment of this life. It’s almost too perfect to be real.

Minutes later, I walk into my husband’s office and close the door without a sound, leaning back against it and just looking at him. His huge shoulders fill out the button-down dress shirt completely, testing the seams. His dark blond hair is pulled back in a small bun at the base of his neck and that beard—the one that leaves chafe marks on the insides of my thighs—is close cut and sprinkled with gray.

When Ezra spots me, he stops mid-sentence and hangs up the phone call he’s on, standing slowly behind his desk. Behind him, the wall of windows overlooks the acres of land on which his business sits. Workers rush between buildings and trucks, loading parts for delivery. But I only notice them out of my periphery, because I can’t take my eyes off Ezra. He rakes a hand over his open mouth and looks me over, the same way he looked at me when he’d just gotten out of prison. “That a new dress, little girl?” He reaches down and adjusts his manhood. “Come over here and let me take a closer look.”

I set down my purse and cross the room, sidling between my husband’s big body and the desk’s edge. He crowds me until I’m forced to slide my butt up onto the ledge—and honestly, I would be more than happy for him to rip my panties off, plow his thick shaft into me and take me hard. But my husband seems intent on savoring me. His fingers undo the buttons of my new, cream-colored dress slowly, until he can push it aside and palm my bare breasts.

“How do you get more beautiful every time I see you?” Ezra breathes, dipping his head to suck my nipples, one by one. “It’s a mystery how I’ve managed to build this business when I sit here thinking of you every goddamn second of the day.”

“I think of you, too. Every second—” I murmur, but I’m cut off by his ravenous mouth.

He shoves the hem of my dress up to my waist, pulling me closer to the edge of the desk and I spread my legs open, how he likes. His rough hands mold my breasts and I whimper into his mouth, begging him without words to make love to me. When he merely sucks in oxygen and dives back into another kiss, I whine in my throat and unzip his pants, sliding my hand inside to stroke his cock.

“Ah, fuck, that’s so good,” he bites off, pumping his hips toward my touch. “I don’t feel like I’m alive without your hands on me. If I had my way, you’d be chained to this desk, you know that? Where I could sit you in my lap and keep you there all day. Where you belong.”

“Mmmm.” I tip my head back and let him suck a red mark onto my neck. “I think we can arrange that for your birthday this year.”

He lifts his head and I watch his pupils expand. “Yeah?”

I slide my hand out of his pants and play with my nipples, twisting my body side to side in a tease. “What else would I get the man who has everything?”

Ezra moans, his eyes fastened to my breasts. “God knows that’s true. I’ve got everything.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I got everything I need the second you chose me.” His lips jump at one end. “But I’m not turning down having you chained to my desk.”

“No. I don’t suggest you do.”

We share a quiet laugh. “Princess?”

“Yes?”

His hands slide up my thighs, fingers hooking in the waistband of my panties and tugging them down, down, until they’re stripped away. “I’m going to get you pregnant again.”

My body agrees with Ezra wholeheartedly. Wetness spreads between my legs more and more, slicking my folds as I watch Ezra take out his massive cock. He slaps it against my sex, his breath growing short—and then he slides into me with a hearty groan.

“Christ.” He slaps the desk hard. “Still as tight as the day I broke you in.”

I fist his shirt and pull him closer, whining and writhing on the desk. “Ezra, I love you. I love you. Let me make you a daddy.”

“I love you too, princess. Until the day I die.”

Then he proceeds to show me how much.

Ezra

Six months later

My wife keepsher promises.

I’ve never been hotter in my fucking life. Which is saying something, considering I’m a beast for this woman. Every morning, every night, she consumes me. Turns me into an animal that needs to fuck her to survive.

Today is my birthday and Ophelia is chained to my desk in nothing but a pair of red high heels. Her stomach is swollen with our third child, a son to complement our twin daughters. And she’s bent over, offering up that tight, ripe ass to me.

“Happy birthday, husband.” She wiggles that sexy backside in my lap and a spurt of come shoots from my tip, rolling down her inner thigh. “Anywhere you want. Anywhere.”

Jesus.

If I lived to be a thousand years old, I wouldn’t be able to process my gratitude for what I’ve been given. This incredible woman is my soul mate. Knew it the minute I saw her. Somehow, against all odds, I convinced her to love me. She’s an amazing mother. She runs her own successful business—and her pussy is a fucking dream come true.

I was late to work twice last week because I couldn’t stop eating it. God, it’s fucking sweet. Ophelia is sweet all over. Inside and out. I’m obsessed with her. If she knew how much, it would probably shock her. Although I have no idea why because even when we’re not together, I make sure we’re in constant contact. When we are together, I can’t stop kissing and touching her. I’m like a man possessed.

My wife is life.

I’ve built her this empire and given her the lifestyle she deserves.

But she’s given me so much more. I have the world in my hands because she loves me.

“Ezra,” she murmurs, tossing her long, dark hair back. “You’re making me wait.”

Shaking my head over her perfection, I run reverent hands down her back and grasp her beautiful ass. “You offering this pretty thing to me, little girl?”

“You own every part of me. It’s always been yours to take,” she says, looking back at me over her shoulder, expression dutiful. She tugs at the chains and pouts a little. “Besides,” she says, biting her lip, “I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to.”

Fuck.

Lust and anticipation crowd my gut and I unzip my pants, kicking her legs apart so I can see her asshole. I lick my lips at the sight of that little, pink pucker and spit on it, spreading the moisture around with my thumb and dipping it in and out. Adding two fingers. Minutes later, when her whimpers tell me she’s ready and I can hear her pussy dripping on the floor, I sink my cock into her sweet, unfucked backside and groan loud enough to shake the windows.

“Mine. All of you, wife. Mine forever.”

“Yours, Ezra,” she sobs, my body beginning to rock hers against the desk, faster and faster. “Always, forever yours.”

THE END