Epilogue - Stone

Two years later.

I’m used to waking in the middle of the night. Not because Callum still needs me, but just in case he does. He doesn’t have those nightmares much anymore. He’ll have one occasionally, and I’m always happy to warm my cock in his ass or fuck him awake to pull him back from those shadows that are a lot weaker than they once were. Most of the time, however, it doesn’t take one of his nightmares for me to do that.

Like, now, still somewhere between sleep and awake, my hand moves as though my body already knows exactly where it wants to be.

Callum’s back is against my chest, my cock already hard and nudging against his ass. He’s quiet and still, his breathing soft and steady. He’s not trapped inside his mind, sleeping peacefully.

My fingers tease the crack of his ass. We’ve long since started sleeping naked for this reason.

I roll over to grab the lube from the nightstand and pour a little onto my fingers before returning them to his ass. When I press light circles around his rim, his back vibrates with a quiet hum. I push inside, and the noise becomes a low moan.

By the time I’m finished stretching him open, my cock is fucking throbbing, begging to replace my fingers. I give it what it wants, removing my fingers and lining my head up to his hole. Slowly and gently, I press my way inside the tight heat of his ass.

It doesn’t take a lot of effort not to wake him with how hard he sleeps. He doesn’t wake up anymore unless I want him to.

Once, I fucked him so slow and tame that he barely stirred until I was spilling inside his ass. It took awhile, but fuck was it worth it. Then I sucked him off until he came down my throat. That was a damn good night.

When I’m bottomed out inside him, I hold him closely with my hand splayed across his stomach. My dick twitches inside his ass, but it’s going to have to deal with not getting more.

As much as I’d love to fuck him, I don’t want to wake him.

Callum has a big day tomorrow. He decided to pursue his master’s degree, and he has a big test in one of his biology courses tomorrow. He also decided to do what I did and play hockey for another year as a fifth-year senior. On top of his test, he also has a game tomorrow night.

So I don’t fuck him. I don’t wake him. I hold him and close my eyes to try to return to sleep.

We’re in the same apartment I lived in two years ago. Callum officially moved in with me after I proposed, and we decided to stay here at least until Callum finishes school. He wants to become a medical illustrator, and I have every intention of helping him get there. He sometimes stresses about taking out a loan for his last year because he refuses to accept my help with paying it off.

Well, we’re married now. His debts are my debts, and he won’t be able to stop me. Not with that.

Besides, I’ve been doing okay as a physical therapy assistant, and by the time he’s finished with school, I should be able to get a job as a physical therapist somewhere.

Anywhere.

Wherever Callum wants to go.

We’ve talked about moving back to Pennsylvania to be closer to my mom and sister, but I’ve told him there’s no pressure in case returning there would open those wounds. I really am okay with living wherever he wants to settle down. I’ll follow him anywhere.

I don’t know how much longer I sleep before I’m awakened by something cinching tight around my left wrist.

The next sensation I’m aware of is that familiar snug warmth moving around my dick. My eyes fly open on a low moan, and the first thing I see is Callum above me, his head thrown back as he rides my cock.

It takes a long while for anything else to come into focus. I’m stuck. Mesmerized. Completely enraptured by the way he moves on top of me, taking his pleasure. The way his head sways on his shoulders, his lips parted. The way his flushed cock smears precum over my skin every time it hits my stomach.

The only thing that pulls my attention away from him is realizing that I’m on my back with my wrists tied to the headboard.

We don’t use the black, silky ropes too often, but we decided to keep them out and accessible after Callum realized that the one time I had him tied up wasn’t a fluke. He enjoys it.

He’s tied me up once before, more for silly fun than anything else. But I can’t say I’ve ever woken up like this.

I also can’t say I hate it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, my voice rough with sleep.

He continues fucking himself on my cock as he peers down at me through hooded eyes. He grins. “Well, you weren’t doing it.”

I narrow my eyes and tug at the binds. “Just wait, baby. As soon as I’m out of these ropes, I’ll make you pay for this.”

He moans as his hands come down on my chest. “I can’t wait.”

As I struggle against the ropes, attempting to slip my hands out, he sinks his nails into my pecs. I snap my hips up, and he whimpers, arching his back.

It’s dark inside the room, but the way he moves his body draws my attention to the mostly faded bruises along the side of his torso. During one of his games last weekend, an opposing player caught him in the corner and crunched him against the boards so hard he went down. I’ve learned how to just barely resist the urge to break through the glass and spill the other players’ blood on the ice when things like that happen.

However, their numbers get burned into my brain.

The next day, that player was pulled over by the cops for driving a stolen vehicle and spent the day in jail until they were able to confirm the car did indeed belong to him.

Technical glitches happen.

I might not be able to always avenge Callum with my preferred method of physical violence, but I have other tools in my arsenal. Lacey indulges me, if a bit begrudgingly, as long as it doesn’t cause any permanent damage.

Unfortunately.

“You look so fucking beautiful riding my cock,” I tell him as I pause my struggling to appreciate the sight of him above me a little longer.

He rolls his hips, and I groan. “So why don’t you just lie there and enjoy it?”

“You know I can’t do that, baby.”

I know it’s not what he really wants.

I love it when he takes control. When he fucks me instead of the other way around, especially after I kill. However, we both love it more when it’s my cock in his ass. My hand around his throat. My teeth in his flesh.

Planting my feet flat on the bed, I thrust up, pounding into him until his head is swaying back on his shoulders again, his eyes closed and his lips parted in a silent cry, his nails digging deeper into my skin.

While he’s distracted, I return to my fight against the ropes.

The one around my right wrist is looser than the one around my left. I can’t help but wonder if he did that on purpose. I focus on that one, twisting and jerking until it loosens even more. As soon as my hand is free, I reach over to untie the other.

Once both hands are free, I grasp him by the waist. His eyes open and find mine as I continue to piston my hips, fucking up into him. I tighten my grip hard enough I might just leave bruises.

But I’ve become obsessed with seeing my marks on him, the only ones I’m ever okay with being there.

I’m obsessed with the look in his eyes when he sees them too.

I’m obsessed with the little whimpers he makes when I leave them.

“Did you really think I was going to let you get away with tying me up?”

“I was hoping not,” he admits breathlessly.

I smirk up at him before flipping us over. He cries out in shock as he lands on his back with my cock still deep inside him. Lifting his right leg, I push it back until his knee is nearly to his chest. I hold it there and anchor myself with my hand on the mattress.

Leaning over him, I wrap my other hand around his throat and crash my mouth to his.

I want to taste him.

I want to swallow up all the noises he makes for me.

I want to devour him until he fucking lives inside me so I’ll never be without him.

Of course, there’s already a part of him that does live in me. He’s made himself a home in the marrow of my bones, in the depths of my dark soul. He’s the other half to the killer inside me.

He’s mine, and I’m never letting him go.

It’s the one thing I could never fucking grant him even if he wished it.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” I say with my lips against his as I rut into him like a savage. “Maybe I should tie you up instead. Never let you leave this fucking bed ever again.”

He moans as I hit that spot inside him over and over, bringing his other leg up to wrap around my waist. “I’m tempted to let you.”

I fucking love making him feel this way, making him feel good . I think I was born to give Callum Hayes pleasure, both in the bedroom and when bringing him the death and the killing that he craves.

“Next time you have a weekend off, maybe that’s exactly what I’ll do,” I tell him as I take my time licking my way up his jaw toward his ear. “I’ll chain you to the bed in our cabin for two whole days. Give you sponge baths. Feed you breakfast in bed. Fuck you so many times you won’t know what it is to be without pleasure. You won’t be able to fucking walk by the time I’m finished with you.”

A whimper slips free past his lips. “Sounds like a fun weekend.”

“It’s been awhile since I’ve killed for you too.” I nip at his ear, and he whines. “Maybe while I have you tied up like a present, I’ll bring you one of your own.”

It’s been a couple months since I’ve killed anyone. I don’t do it as often as I once did. Lacey has tracked down more of Coach Hill’s friends , but she thinks there are still a few left out there. The network that Coach, Callum’s stepdad, and Eric’s uncle were all a part of was much larger than any of us knew. I’ve taken care of a few, and I’m determined to get the rest.

I pull back a bit just in time to see Callum’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Would you like that, baby?” I give him a quick, soft kiss while rolling my hips in a rhythm that matches the pleasure racing up my spine. “I’ll have you both tied down. At my mercy. I’ll be able to do anything I want to both of you. He’ll get to die a slow, painful death while you get to watch. I’ll fucking spill his blood at your feet. And then I’ll make love to you all fucking night with the scent of death in the air.”

“Fuck,” he moans, followed by a whimper. “Stone.”

He’s floating now.

Talking about death tends to do that to him, and I fucking love it. Of course, an actual death is even more potent.

He’s so fucking beautiful like this.

Thriving in my darkness. Reborn from shadows.

Like night’s embers.

Left over from a fire, smoldering in its ashes. The part of it that’s fought to survive. With my darkness, he glows even brighter.

When I sense he’s getting close, I tighten my grip a little around his throat. His lips part as his breathing ceases. Moving my arm so that his leg falls around my waist, I use my other hand to grip his cock.

“Does the idea of that make you want to come for me, baby?”

His nod is barely perceptible, and his whimpered “yes” is nothing more than a hushed whisper.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Callum.” I brush my lips against his as I start to stroke him, pounding into him relentlessly. “You were the piece I was always missing. Show me I’m yours too. Show me how fucking good I make you feel. Show me I give you everything you’ll ever need.”

His body shudders beneath me, and his cum spills from his cock, over my fingers and his abs.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

My voice grows more strained, my muscles more taut. His ass spasms around my cock, wrenching my orgasm out of me seconds after his. I come with a growl as I bury my release inside him.

When I let go of his throat, he sucks in a breath. I fall on top of him, and our chests heave against each other.

“It’s a date,” Callum whispers as he blinks up at me.

I smile and bring my hand up to the side of his face, brushing my thumb across his lips. “I’ll make it happen for you.”

He leans into my touch and kisses the tip of my thumb.

Reaching for his hand, I bring it up between us. “After all, you’re mine, aren’t you?” I ask before kissing the black stainless steel band around his ring finger.

“I am,” he says with a small, sated smile.

I press my lips to his. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, killer.”