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Epilogue - Franny

Rupert stepped up behind Franny, and she shivered. Heat radiated off him, breathing into her skin even though he wasn’t even touching her. She tracked him through the mirror, her pulse picking up. He was so large compared to her, his broad shoulders framing her, curving over her as he leaned forward. His hands landed on her hips, fingertips digging into her and pulling her flush against him.

She knew it was coming, but she still gasped at the searing feeling of naked skin against naked skin. He leaned over her, more of his strength, warmth, surrounding her. And then he did one of her favorite things. He dragged his nose up the column of her neck to her ear, inhaling deeply.

Scenting her.

His fingers tightened. His cock jumped against her bottom. Everything about the way he loved her was animalistic. He drew his hands up her body, his pace unhurried, like he was savoring her skin with his fingertips. He palmed her breasts, and she squeezed her thighs at the instant spark of lust that streaked through her core. His fingers tightened, gripping her like he owned her breasts, like they were his.

Possessive.

She found Rupert’s gaze in the mirror, and a breathy whimper escaped her lips. Lust burned in his hooded gaze, and as much as those rich brown eyes swam with liquid heat, they were sharp, branding in the way they roamed over her. He loosened his hold and torturously rolled his palms over her achingly hard nipples. Each roll had a pang of pleasure shooting through her core.

Oh, God. She squirmed, and the feel of his hard length behind her only made everything that much worse, made the ache that much more excruciating. He lightened his touch, barely skimming over her nipples. She rolled her head back and forth, tried to push her breasts into his hands, but he completely left her then. She cried out, her eyes falling shut.

He gripped her chin, and her eyes flew open, clashing with his. “Your eyes stay open, Franny,” he murmured. His words were gentle; the command in them wasn’t.

His hand trailed from her jaw to wrap around her throat. Not gripping, no pressure, just presence . “You will watch as I pull every ounce of pleasure from you. Every moan, every shiver, every”—his gaze flicked to her hips and back—“ache. You will watch as I take it all from you.”

One of his hands coasted down her body, and she couldn’t keep from watching. Couldn’t tear her gaze away as he palmed between her thighs. His fingers pressed lightly over her folds, and just that touch had her twitching as she fought the urge to press into him, to rock, to grind.

His fingers slid slightly, and he growled, the vibration dancing against the sensitive skin of her neck. “Because they are mine. You are mine.”

His hand dipped deeper, his fingers parting her, gliding lower to the heart of her. He swirled, and her mouth dropped open with a hitched breath. The wanton inside her couldn’t help herself; she spread her legs wider for him. He drew his fingers back up, her wider stance giving her a clear view as he rolled over her clitoris and then slipped back down again. Her pants grew harsh, ricocheting through her chamber.

“So wet.” He drew the shell of her ear in his mouth and sucked at the same time he circled her. Didn’t sink inside. Just continued whatever this torture was, making an utter mess of her as he slipped and skimmed teasingly over her body. “See how you glisten for me? You are stunning.”

Her body trembled, her muscles at a very real risk of giving out. It was the most erotic sight, him pleasuring her, forcing her to watch.

“This is mine too, Franny.” He squeezed softly around her throat, and her gaze flew to his again. And then his hand left her core, and gaze trained on hers in the mirror, he slid his slick fingers into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut, an appreciative hum rumbling through him.

Her knees buckled, and she barely caught herself from falling. Oh my God.

His eyes flashed open, something dangerous flickering in their depths. “Delicious.”

Franny shivered. He said it like a warning. Like she wasn’t safe from him devouring her. Lord, she hoped he would.

“More of that later, though,” he murmured.

The hand around her throat coasted down and gripped her right breast, pinning her arm to her side. His other fell back to her core. It was surreal. His body engulfed her, her back melting into his front, his arms wrapping around her, hands seizing her, taking her. She traced over their entwined bodies in the mirror. She wasn’t truly certain where she ended and he began.

“Spread your legs, Franny.”

She did instantly. Her body his to command.

“Eyes on your cunt.”

Her sharp inhale sliced through the room. She couldn’t prevent her stare from snapping to his. It was so vulgar. So harsh. This man would never stop surprising her.

“Mmm-mmm,” he tsked. “You’re not following orders very well, love.” He used the endearment, but there was nothing endearing in his tone. Just threat.

Both his hands left her, and she cried out, scrambled for him, gripping his wrists and trying to pull him back to her. He froze, his hands suspended just above her skin.

“You want my touch?” His low rasp slid over her, like she wanted his fingers to. “Then you will do as I say. Eyes on your cunt.”

Her gaze dropped to her spread thighs. Anything. She’d do anything to have his hands on her again.

And then he blessedly touched her. She almost closed her eyes, almost let them fall shut at the heaven of his strong, sure fingers on her again. But she didn’t. Couldn’t risk him depriving her again.

He brushed a whisper-soft kiss to her neck. “That’s my good girl.”

Oh heavens. Her hips canted into his hand. She loved his punishment. She loved driving him mad, pushing him over the edge until he snapped, and she was granted the full force of his retribution. But his praise? It was something she never knew she wanted— needed . She moaned, the pleasure throbbing beneath his fingertips agonizing. He wasn’t even moving, just holding her. But his praise, his presence, it had feeling flying through her veins, unstoppable, out of control.

Rupert’s lips curved against her skin, knowing exactly what his words had done to her. “Let’s pull some more of those pretty sounds from you.”

He gently rocked his fingers back and forth, parting her folds. She bucked into him, her breath catching. She ached so badly, was so swollen, pushed so close to the edge by his torment, it wouldn’t take much to fall apart. She could feel it, that spiraling of pleasure right beneath the heel of his hand. She just needed to grind into him, and it would come crashing down.

“No.” His harsh order froze her. “You don’t move. It is my pleasure to take, Franny. Not yours.” The heel of his palm lifted. The only thing touching her was his sinful fingers sliding low. “You will remain still. You will watch me take it from you.”

His knee nudged her thighs wider. His other arm wrapped around her front, under her breasts, leaned her back and pulled her firmly against him. Exposed her.

All the while, his fingers leisurely skimmed over her. Teased around her entrance, then away. He slid up and swirled a barely there caress over her clitoris before slipping down again. Her body quaked against his. Her heart was going to explode in her chest, like the breaths exploding from her lungs. He knew, somehow he knew, when his touch brought her right to the edge.

Her core buzzed, thrummed, and every time it pulled tight, just about to snap, that glorious rush upon her, he pulled back. Her ragged pants melded with his own rough breaths. His cock slid over her arse as he rolled himself against her in the same rhythm his fingers rolled over her. Every so often, he pressed the tiniest bit harder, circled the smallest amount faster. Before catching himself. Like he was losing control.

He drew back again, the tips of his fingers skimming up and down her folds. “Do you need to come, Franny?” Her body tightened, clenched on nothing. He groaned. “Look at how desperate you are for me. So swollen, pink.” The tip of his tongue coasted over her neck. “Wet.”

He dipped back between her folds, where she was even wetter now, the ache sharper. She whimpered, near-sobbed.

“I’m going to sink inside you now.” His teeth nipped her shoulder. “But you’re going to be a good girl for me, Franny. You will. Not. Come.”

Oh, God. She didn’t know if she could hold back. She was delirious, nothing but a throbbing, pulsing mess. Rupert stilled, two fingers frozen at her entrance. And then he slid inside, inch by unhurried bloody inch. And then held. Her mouth went dry, she was parched, starved for what he was denying her. He bared his teeth at her, like he was in as much pain as she was right now. Her core was on fire, the pleasure sparking, crackling. She didn’t know how she was supposed to hold back.

“Don’t,” he gritted out.

She slammed her eyes shut and breathed slow and steady through her nose. She ground her teeth, every muscle in her body taut with the strain to hold back. And then the coiling pressure subsided, and she breathed out a long sigh. Her eyes fluttered open and met his hungry one in the mirror.

His free hand pushed her chin up, and he met her in a kiss, a kiss that was a complete juxtaposition to their current torturous embrace. It was soft, sweet, adoring. The way his lips caressed hers, his tongue lovingly stroking against her own.

He purred into her mouth. “That was so good, love. I’m so proud of you.”

Her chest bloomed with warmth, his praise sliding through her, and cozying around her heart. She had no idea what this man was doing to her. She had no control over her body, over her pleasure, over her emotions. Everything had been relinquished to him. It was pivotal, this moment. Because she knew she could finally relinquish everything to him, to the man he was now. And she would be safe.

His fingers moved inside her, petting her from the inside. A cry fled her, and he swallowed it. Truly taking it as his. “Mmm, you like that, do you?”

Yes, she did. She really did. But she couldn’t form words. It was as though he’d stolen her thoughts, too.

“Don’t worry, love. You don’t need to say it with words. Your body is doing the talking.” He petted her again, and a wave of bliss formed. He stilled. The wave halted. “Just like that,” he whispered, his words rough. He did it again, building the wave and pulling it back from her. “You squeeze me exquisitely tight every time I do that.”

He slid nearly all the way out of her, then sank back inside. Hard. Then froze again. Her body bowed over him, a choked sob ripping from her. His arm banded around her, pulling her back flush against him.

He chuckled. And in that moment, she truly wanted to slap him. Fury raged inside her, spurred by repeatedly denied release. She couldn’t take any more of this torment. She was going to break. Her gaze found his, dark and wicked, satisfaction gleaming in the candlelight. He wanted to break her.

And she wouldn’t be Franny, if she didn’t rebel.

With a growl, she jerked from his hold and spun to face him. Her hands landed on his chest, fingertips clawing into him, and she shoved with all her might. He stumbled backwards, his eyes wide, jaw slack. Fool. To think she could ever be fully tamed.

Rupert’s arse hit the mattress, and his arms shot behind him to keep himself from falling backward. She advanced on him, and perhaps it was the shock, the abrupt turn of her from submissive to domineering, or perhaps it was whatever he saw in her gaze, but it had him scrambling up onto the bed. Away from her.

She crawled after him, scaled his body, paused at his hips to briefly lick over his hard length, then slipped his cock in her mouth. She hummed around him, slid up and down him twice before releasing him with a wet pop as a deep guttural groan left him. And then she resumed her ascent, making her way to his mouth. His cock twitched and jumped against her arse, and she swiveled until he slid between her thighs. Notched him exactly where she wanted.

“Next time you want to take my pleasure, Rupert,” she murmured over his lips. “You’ll need to act faster. Because now I’m taking it for myself.”

She sank to the hilt. A moan tore from him. Her mouth dropped open, the breath stolen right from her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck . Franny. You’re—” His words cut off on a strangled, animalistic sound.

She understood. Because after all that suffering he just put her through, having him impaled deep inside her finally broke something inside her. Her fingers fisted his hair, her teeth latched onto the meat of his shoulder, and she rode him fast and hard. She took what she needed.

His hands gripped her hips, slamming her down onto him at the same time his hips bucked into her. Wild, feral noises flew from both of them, the smell and feel of slick sweat and sex consuming her. The pleasure streaked through her veins like an electrical storm. There was no more waiting, no more holding back.

She shattered.

She curled into him with a scream as her hips devolved into a stuttering grind. His thrusts turned erratic, his grunts louder, savage. Until he drove into her, his straining thighs lifting them off the bed, pushing him impossibly deeper, somehow drawing out even more bliss when she thought she had nothing left. He growled his release into her neck and then collapsed against the bed.

She melted on top of him, her face pressed into the bed linens. She didn’t even have the strength to turn, just gasped for air, her chest heaving in time with his.

He pressed a kiss against her hair, his fingers doing a loving dance over the skin of her back. She sighed, sinking into him. Utterly replete. Utterly satisfied. Utterly happy.

Rupert’s hand latched onto her hip, his muscles tightened beneath her, and then he rolled them to their sides, keeping himself inside her. Like he couldn’t bear being apart from her.

His stare found hers and what was heated and dark a moment ago was now as sweet and rich as drinking chocolate. “I love you, Franny mine,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against hers.

She smiled. She liked that.

“I love you, too.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “My very dear and not very proper Perty.”