Epilogue

ARLENE

“ Y ou know, you say you love me, but this is the meanest thing you could possibly do.”

Claude laughed. They laughed. I was struggling, dammit. It was not funny.

“You said you were in when I told you what the plan was.”

“Well, yeah.” I pouted. “But I hadn’t thought…”

Claude nipped my jaw. It got me to stop talking, which was what they wanted, I supposed. “We can leave it for another day. Just say the word.”

“No, I…” I licked my lips. I was overstimulated and had too much energy coursing through my body I didn’t know what to do with. I knew I didn’t want to leave anything for another day. I just needed some kind of outlet. “I want it.”

“Why all the complaining, then?” Claude rolled their eyes playfully.

“You can be mean and still make me want something.” I huffed.

I thought it was obvious, but maybe not.

Claude just laughed again, but they grabbed my hand, and we kept walking toward their place. I’d told them we should’ve just gone there in the first place, but Claude had wanted to drop by Randy’s. They hadn’t seen Avery and Myles in a while and had grudgingly admitted to missing them. I found it sweet, even if the reason they gave the outside world was just that they needed to feed their cheese fries addiction.

I so wanted to get the recipe for those from one of the cooks, but I’d soon come to realize that Randy’s was Claude’s space more than it was mine. They knew everyone, and they recharged there. It was their hub. Their new platform, in a way, now that YouTube wasn’t an option they could or even wanted to grow.

“I cannot believe I just FaceTimed with a famous YouTuber while at a local diner,” I said.

I was just teasing. Ben was nice—a bit more tame than he was in front of the camera from what I remembered, but not by much. He had a lot of dirt on Claude, which had quickly turned into the most interesting part about him.

“You two can’t conspire against me,” they protested.

They’d said the same thing while we were talking.

I giggled. “Or what?”

The playfulness was a relatively new development I was only starting to grow more comfortable with. It was our thing—Claude’s and mine. That made it better.

“Oh, I’ll think of something.”

I shivered. The playfulness was not gone, but it was shoved to the background in favor of… lust. Claude would think of something, something that would most likely have me writhing beneath them while I didn’t know which way was up.

It was my favorite thing, but that wasn’t enough for me to admit as much out loud.

Claude questioned it at times, but I really couldn’t have picked a better partner to explore D/s with, or whatever we were doing. All the protocol and formalisms felt wrong whenever we tried to incorporate something. The way power shifted between us like a current keeping us together was real, though. I couldn’t ignore it if I wanted—and I didn’t want to.

“Besides, I’ll remind you it was your idea not to grab an Uber.”

“Well, you don’t live that far from Randy’s,” I grumbled, “and you’re the one who said I should help you set up a budget for yourself.”

I’d been way too excited about it when Claude texted me the other week. Probably way more excited than they’d thought I’d be.

I liked budgets—not as much as I liked baking, or submitting, apparently, but they were the… third best thing. Well, fourth. Claude had soon claimed a spot among the top three best things going on for me.

“Yeah, yeah.” Claude pouted. “Whatever.”

I laughed.

These past few months were giving me lots of these moments. I liked them way too much; it was difficult to put into words. I liked the security I found in Claude, and I liked how easy it was for me to breathe around them.

It was still scary—but it was ours, even when Claude grumbled about how they’d never gone to Randy’s with the intention of flirting with anyone.

To be fair, they hadn’t quite flirted, but… I hadn’t always had the highest standards, and I was easily taken by people.

I was aware of it. In this case, though, it had worked in my favor.

“ G ive me your hands.”

I squirmed. Instead of just telling me where and how they wanted me, Claude had taken care of all of it. They’d gotten rid of my clothes, and they’d positioned me, spread eagled, on the bed.

The fact that they were now including me had me hitching my breath. “You’re not going to just grab them?”

“I can’t do everything , gorgeous,” Claude drawled. I couldn’t see their face from this angle, but I could picture their smirk. “What kind of precedent would that set?”

“You tell me.” I shrugged.

Personally, I was fine with letting them lead, but I knew what they meant. I supposed it was another reason why high protocols were not a thing that worked for us. As much as I was happy with letting them lead, I couldn’t just give up every ounce of control. I supposed it was the same Claude went through—they thrived with that control, but all of it would become too much fast.

I got it.

What we had worked, and that was what I focused on as I lifted my arm off the bed. Claude grabbed a pair of handcuffs covered in black fuzz.

“I know leather ones are better, but I couldn’t find any on short notice that weren’t super bulky, so you just tell me if it bothers you at any point.”

I held my breath only to let it out slowly. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

I still grew tense as the click of metal gave proof that I was secured to the head of the bed. My right hand came next. Claude was moving around, nudging my legs apart to shackle my ankles to the feet of the bed.

“Are all these really necessary?” I wasn’t scared to be tied up, per se, but it was something new. I needed a second to get used to the helplessness that came when I tried to give a tug to my restraints and they barely budged.

“Keeping in mind how much you love to wiggle around?” Claude raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, they are.”

If it was something else, they would’ve checked in, but we’d talked about it last night, about what I needed if I started freaking out or posed questions.

I let my eyes drift closed. Knowing that there was a script, and that Claude was following the script as we’d established, took some of the tension off my body.

It was okay.

And I did want this.

“I don’t wiggle around that much.”

I totally did. I just hadn’t quite let go of feeling somewhat self-conscious about it yet. Claude just said it was cute—or amusing—when I brought it up. It was no use. They were the most biased person out there for anything that had to do with me.

They also hated it when I mentioned it because a part of them would always pretend to be a grump even though they totally weren’t. Whatever. It made me feel warm inside. It was a reminder that Claude really loved me when stress got to me because of work or anything else.

M y chest heaved up and down. I knew why they were doing it, but Claude was taking way too long preparing the candles. I liked that they cared, and that they put care into what they were doing, but at this point, there was no way a part of it wasn’t Claude building up my anticipation and being the tease they were.

“Claude…” I bit on my lip before I let out more words than absolutely needed.

Begging this early would only encourage Claude more. I’d learned as much.

“What is it?” They grinned as they looked over at me.

I squirmed. Claude quirked an eyebrow. I knew what they were thinking. I’d just told them I didn’t wiggle a lot.

Whatever. What was a girl supposed to do when she was splayed naked on a bed, shackled to it, and their Domm was leisurely playing around with a few paraffin waxes?

Given the circumstances, I’d say I was behaving better than anyone could expect.

“Maybe hurry up?”

“So impatient.” Claude pretended to look up in exasperation. Their poker face wasn’t as good as they liked to think it was. “You know I tried it on the inside of my wrist the other day, but did you want me to do it on yours before I start?”

I debated over it. In the end, no more than two seconds later, I shook my head. I appreciated the question—it helped me slip into the passenger seat and let Claude take over. At the end of the day, though, a big part of what drew me to this was the trepidation, the buildup while imagining how something would feel versus how it actually felt.

“Okay.” Claude got on the bed, standing on their haunches between my legs. “And you remember your safe word, yes?”

“We just use red and yellow, of course I remember.”

Well, I mostly used yellow, sometimes when I was too overwhelmed and needed a second because too many things were happening at once. Or when I couldn’t take the teasing pace Claude set any longer.

I really wasn’t good at delayed gratification. It was a problem I should probably look more into, but the truth was, for once, I didn’t care that much.

I could be selfish about my pleasure if I wanted.

“Don’t give me sass,” Claude warned.

The hand that wasn’t holding the candle rested on my inner thigh. It should’ve put me on edge, but it felt like a balm instead, like coming home.

“Sorry.”

I wasn’t sorry. I knew it, and Claude knew it. They didn’t tease me about it this time, though.

Turned out, I couldn’t always be on my best behavior.

“Talk me through it, okay? Tell me how it feels.”

“Okay.”

I hated and loved when Claude gave that command. I hadn’t been sure the first time they brought it up. In my head, talking about it meant not being able to fall into subspace, where I could let go of everything that kept me in knots and anchored to the ground. Talking, though? Forcing the words out actually elevated every single sensation to a level I hadn’t thought possible.

The first drop of wax fell right above my hip bone. I gasped, my hips lifting up the bed. It took me a second or two before I could start processing the way it felt. It hadn’t hurt, exactly. I wouldn’t even call it a sting, but it burned, the sensation so localized and short lived I didn’t know if I should be disappointed or relieved.

“I’m not hearing any words.”

If I’d been able to, I would’ve glared. As it turned out, I didn’t have it in my repertoire. Instead, I bit my lip before I started moaning again. Claude said I was loud, and I agreed with them.

“It’s…” I breathed, my eyes darting around the room as if the words were going to be written on the wall. “Warm. More than warm. It’s intense and comforting all at once.”

Claude hummed. That seemed to be enough for them. This time, when they turned the candle to a 45-degree angle again, they let more than a drop drip, creating a pattern next to the first one. Still over my hipbone, but getting closer to the center. It felt warmer the closer it got to there, more intense. This time, I didn’t have to worry about it.

I glanced down. “Is that supposed to be a heart?”

“Shut up.” Claude huffed. “I’m trying here.”

I giggled. They brought it out of me. “I mean, if you wanna switch places…”

“Keep talking, and I won’t be so nice.”

They were stupidly nice every single time, but I smacked my lips together and looked away. “Yes, Claude.”

“Cute,” they snorted.

I managed to stay still while they decorated my other hipbone—no attempts at drawing hearts this time. It was when they let a drop drip over the underside of my clit that I hissed.

“Words, gorgeous,” they teased and reminded all at once.

“It…” I writhed against the shackles for a moment, the heat making me sink back into the bed and get away from it at the same time. Tears sprang to my eyes for some reason. I didn’t know why. “It feels so intense, so… hot. Literally.”

Claude chuckled.

“I bet.” They shifted on the bed, too, but I couldn’t look to see what they were doing. I needed a second before losing it for reasons that went far beyond my comprehension. “Do you want more?”

My breath hitched.

I didn’t know.

“Yes.”

One development I wasn’t a big fan of was this thing I did lately where I didn’t have a filter—around Claude, at least. I supposed I’d never had much of one around them, but this was different. This was self-sabotage of the highest order.

Claude leaned down. I didn’t have to focus my gaze on them to know. I’d recognize their weight hovering over me any time.

It sent a shiver up my spine.

“Look at me.”

I did. There was no question that I would. “Yeah?”

“You look amazing like this,” they breathed the words against my cheeks, their lips ghosting against the skin. “I love it when you’re helpless and reliant on me. But I love it even more when you’re working on instinct, asking and taking what your body needs.”

I snorted. “I don’t know what my body needs.”

“It needs me, of course.” Claude winked. Their teeth nipped the shell of my ear. They always moved too fast, as if there was a race to cover as many parts of my body as they possibly could. “What’s so intense about what we’re doing?”

“Other than liquid wax literally falling over my clit?” I squirmed some more.

The wax was already hardening. I wasn’t sure I was looking forward to ripping it off.

That would be a lie, of course. The thought sent blood down my clit right then and there. My whole body vibrated with the need for more.

“Other than that,” Claude said the words slowly.

They were probably aware that I was in my head, not quite fully here.

For a few seconds, I couldn’t speak. Only our mingled breaths broke the utter silence in the room. Words failed me. I didn’t know how to answer because I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t understand why this felt like too much. Nipple clamps were more intense than this.

It couldn’t be the physical act.

I just…

“It’s about us.”

“Huh?” Claude leaned back slightly.

I bet it was so they could study my every reaction. I was an open book for them, always. I had the impression that they hadn’t expected me to say anything along those lines. In a way, neither had I. Sometimes my mouth ran ahead of my inner monologue.

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “You’ve researched this for, like, weeks. It makes it… intense. Ours. It’s us.”

Claude stood still at first. I wasn’t sure what to make out of the response, my heart starting to beat wildly against my ribs. Had I just fucked up something, said the wrong thing?

“Of course it’s us.”

“Huh?” It was my turn to be confused.

“You deserve everything, Arlene. Fuck,” Claude cursed as they ran a hand through their hair. “I’ll always want to give you fucking everything, and I’m always going to do everything in my power to get it right.”

“That’s…” There was no way I was breathing now, and it had nothing to do with the hardening wax.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Claude looked at me regretfully for one second. “Yellow.”

Uh?

My heart lodged all the way up my throat. Claude was getting rid of the shackles holding me to the bed one second later.

“Sorry, I just, I need to hold you, okay, but you have to promise not to make a big deal out of it?”

“I’m not going to promise that.”

Still, as soon as all my limbs were free, and Claude had placed the candle back on the nightstand, I wrapped my arms around them. And I squeezed, tight. My heart began returning to its rightful spot as I breathed them in.

Claude returned the hold right away. They were squirming two seconds later, though, until their hand cupped my jaw, and we were face to face.

“You are so infuriatingly irresistible.”

I grinned. It was that, or full on laughing, and I didn’t think Claude would appreciate the latter. I was a considerate person, first and foremost. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means my life would be less of a roller coaster of feelings and stupid hormones if I hadn’t stopped to quote-unquote greet a fan.” They huffed. I snorted. They glared up at me, but it didn’t last long, blue eyes brimming with affection two seconds later. The fiery red hair dye they’d gone for this month just made every glance look more alluring. “But that wouldn’t be a good thing.”

“I love you.”

The words were there before I could fully process what they were saying. It didn’t matter.

“I love you through actions more than I do through words,” Claude said. The gravity of their words hit me right away, making me both want to melt into their arms and jump to the moon. “I don’t want you to be overwhelmed just because you realize what that means for me.”

“That’s not…” I stopped. Claude didn’t need to interrupt me this time. It was kind of what had happened, wasn’t it? They quirked an eyebrow, waiting as if they could tell the conclusions I was reaching. “I love you.”

Those were the only words that made sense in response.

“I love you.” Claude kissed me quick before pulling away. “Now get your ass in the bath if you don’t wanna know mean.”

I laughed. I couldn’t hold it in this time, the kind of laughter that had me almost doubling over.

“Yes, Claude.”

Whatever they said.