39. Extended Epilogue

SILAS

Two months later…

I hold Clara against my chest, savoring the warmth from the crackling fireplace. The snow falls softly outside our cabin windows, creating a perfect blanket of white. My fingers trace patterns on her arm as I gently kiss her neck.

"Remember last Christmas?" I murmur against her skin. "When we first came here?"

Clara leans back into me, sighing contentedly. "Feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time."

The flames cast dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the peaceful smile I've come to treasure. Only Clara gets to see this side of me, the tender touches, and the moments of vulnerability.

"I made your favorite tonight," I say, nuzzling her hair. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon still lingers from her shower earlier. "Those little chocolate soufflés you love."

I rise from the couch, already missing Clara's warmth against me. "Don't move," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

In the kitchen, I retrieve the soufflés from where they've been keeping warm. The chocolate aroma fills the air as I carefully plate them. My hands are steady as I arrange everything perfectly.

Returning to Clara, I set the desserts on the side table. "Come here," I say, settling back into the plush armchair and pulling my hard dick from my sweatpants.

Clara licks her lips, eyes fixed on my dick. "Are you going to fuck me while I eat?" she asks.

I shake my head. “You remember what we did a few times before? When you just sat on my dick?"

Clara bites her lip, eyes sparkling with curiosity and desire. "Yeah, I remember. You want to do that?"

"Sit," I instruct, and she dutifully removes her panties and straddles my lap, slowly sinking down onto my cock.

I lean back, gripping her hips to guide her, and she lets out a soft moan as she envelops me. Her eyes flutter closed momentarily as she gets used to the sensation.

"Now, for this to work, you have to sit really still," I tell her, amused by the challenge this presents.

I spoon her the chocolate soufflé, and she savors the taste. Her body is taut with concentration; every muscle is focused on remaining still while she's filled with my cock and the decadent dessert.

She releases a sigh of contentment, and I marvel at her perched on my lap, exquisitely balanced, every movement calculated. I live for this: pushing boundaries, both mine and hers.

"You alright there?" I ask, fighting the urge to thrust my hips and ruin the game.

"Oh yes," she breathes, opening her eyes and meeting my gaze. "Keep feeding me."

I watch Clara's face as she takes another bite of the soufflé, memorizing every micro-expression. The way her lips part, how her eyes close in pleasure, the slight furrow of concentration as she maintains perfect stillness on my cock.

My heart pounds against my ribs. The words I've never said to anyone scratch at my throat, desperate to escape. Clara deserves to hear them because she's the only one who's ever seen past my carefully constructed walls, who understands and embraces the darkness.

"One year," I murmur, stroking her cheek. "One year since you chose to run away with me."

She opens those captivating green eyes, studying my face. "The best decision I ever made."

My chest tightens. The unfamiliar emotion threatens to overwhelm me. I've never felt this vulnerable, this exposed. But Clara deserves my truth.

“I—” The words stick. I swallow hard, frustrated by my own hesitation. Clara waits patiently, her body still perfectly motionless on my lap.

I take a deep breath. "I love you." The words come out rough, almost angry in their intensity. "I love you, Clara."

Her eyes fill with tears, but her smile is radiant. She starts to move, but I grip her hips. "Stay still," I remind her, my voice gentler now. "Let me feed you more."

I lift another spoonful to her lips, marveling at how those three simple words have changed everything and nothing at all. I'm still me, the monster who hunts monsters. But now I'm a monster who knows how to love.

Clara accepts the bite, a tear sliding down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, then bring it to my lips. "I love you," I say again, finding it easier now. "I love everything about you. Your darkness. Your light. All of it."

I lift another spoonful of the chocolate soufflé, my heart racing as I spot the glint of platinum nestled in the chocolate dessert. The ring I'd carefully hidden catches the firelight, and I bring it to Clara's lips.

"Wait." I pull the spoon back slightly. "There's something in this bite you should see."

Clara's eyes lock on the ring, and her breath catches. I pluck it from the soufflé and wipe it clean with a napkin.

"I had this made for you months ago. Been carrying it, waiting for the right moment." The words come out dark and hungry. "And sitting here, with you still on my cock, telling you I love you... This feels right."

A tear slides down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb.

"Clara Hart. You see all of me. You see the darkness, the violence, everything I am. And you not only accept it, you match it." I hold up the ring. "Marry me. Be my partner in every way."

Her lips tremble. "Silas..."

"Say yes." I press my forehead to hers. "Be mine completely."

"Yes," she whispers, more tears falling. "God, yes."

My hands shake slightly as I slide the ring onto her finger. The black diamonds glitter against her skin, perfectly embodying our shared darkness.

"It's beautiful," she breathes, examining the ring through tear-filled eyes.

"Like you." I cup her face. "My beautiful, deadly goddess."

She lets out a watery laugh. "I can't believe you proposed while I'm sitting on your cock."

"Would you expect anything else from me?"

I watch Clara's eyes sparkle as she laughs, the sound making my chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.

"No, it's absolutely perfect. You're perfect." She tilts her head, studying the ring. "Only you would propose like this."

I lift another spoonful of soufflé to her lips, savoring how she remains perfectly still on my cock while she eats. The chocolate leaves a small smear on her bottom lip, and I wipe it away with my thumb.

"Your turn to feed me?" I ask, spotting the second soufflé on the table.

"Mmhmm." Clara reaches for the dessert, careful not to slip off my dick. "Open up."

I part my lips, accepting the bite she offers. The rich chocolate melts on my tongue, but I'm more focused on how her eyes follow my mouth and how her breath catches when I lick my lips.

"You know," she says, scooping up another spoonful, "most people get engaged over candlelit dinners or sunset walks on the beach."

"We're not most people."

"No," she agrees, feeding me another bite. "We're better."

The domesticity of this moment should feel wrong. I'm a killer, a monster who's spent years perfecting the art of death. Yet here I am, letting my fiancée, the word sends a thrill through me, feed me dessert while she's impaled on my cock.

"You're thinking too hard," Clara murmurs, offering another spoonful. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Just appreciating how perfectly twisted we are together."

She smiles that wicked smile I love. "Would you want it any other way?"

"Never." I accept the bite she offers, watching her watch me. "You're the only one who could ever understand this. Understand me."

I cradle Clara closer, marveling at how her body fits perfectly against mine. The firelight catches the black diamonds on her ring finger, sending sparkles dancing across her skin. My chest tightens with an unfamiliar warmth.

For years, I've lived seeing people as objects to manipulate, puzzles to solve, and victims to claim. But Clara changed everything. She peeled back my carefully constructed masks and saw the monster beneath, yet she chose to stay.

Her chest's gentle rise and fall against mine reminds me that this is real. I'm not playing a role or wearing a mask. For the first time in my life, I'm completely exposed and vulnerable, and it doesn't feel like a weakness. Clara's acceptance of my true nature has given me something I never knew I needed: freedom to simply exist as myself.

Love. Such a simple word for such a complex emotion. I never thought I was capable of it until Clara. She awakened something in me that I thought had died long ago or never existed. Now, I can't imagine returning to the cold emptiness of my former existence.

My killer's hands, usually steady and precise in their violence, tremble slightly as they caress her skin. Even now, she draws these unexpected reactions from me. Makes me feel things I never thought possible. The feared Christmas Reaper was brought to his knees by love.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.