Epilogue
I sit at the back of the coffee shop, watching the new kid behind the counter, the one who took my job 6 months ago. Diana says he’s great at the gig, though of course, she misses having me around to gossip with 24/7. I moved out of her place last month, into Gio’s irresistible mansion of a house. She told me she didn’t blame me, but I could tell by the way she kept hugging me as I packed that she was sad to see me go.
I’ll miss my roomie too, though of course, I have absolutely no regrets about moving into Gio’s. He’s been more than a dream–he’s been a godsend.
I take a slow sip of my café latte, reminiscing with vindictive pleasure about the day after Gio’s declaration of love. When he handed me that check and I signed it over to my stepfather. The look on Anthony’s face was priceless. Literally worth a million bucks to watch him gape at that check, bug-eyed.
That expression tided me over for the past few months. All throughout the divorce, once Gio and I met with Mom and explained exactly what a horrible person Anthony was. All through the proceeding threats he sent us–Anthony might be well connected in the underworld, but Gio has connections of his own. More than enough to keep us safe from that psycho.
But what was even better was the feeling of watching his arrest footage on the evening news just a few days ago.
Apparently that asshole was a little too impressed by how quickly I made back the million I owed him. He decided to step up his game from pharmaceuticals and get into the sex trade business. Specifically, trying to buy women to sell. Luckily, one of the first girls he tried to “recruit” (by drugging her and taking her to a hotel room where he’d auction her off, no less) turned out to be an undercover cop specifically planted to try and catch assholes like him.
Not going to lie, I really enjoyed watching the news footage. Over and over again. The stunned expression on Anthony’s face as the cops led him, cuffed, into a police cruiser, was very familiar.
The only thing I regret, if I regret anything, is that Mom had to be dragged through the middle of this. She very quickly saw that we were right about him, but I wish he hadn’t broken her heart along with all the other lives he broke.
Speaking of Mom. I glance at the clock over the coffee shop door. Weird. She was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago. I offered to pick her up on my way over from Gio’s, but she insisted that she’d make it to the coffee shop on her own, since she had some errands to run first.
Oh well, maybe those ran overtime.
I’m still daydreaming about how enjoyable it was to see someone get what they truly deserved, when the bell above the shop door tinkles. I glance up, then tilt my head in confusion at seeing Diana and my mother walk in arm-in-arm. Of course they’re friends–Mom calls Diana her second daughter–but I don’t understand why they’re both here, when Di doesn’t work until Friday.
I stand up to hug them both, and shoot Di a strange sideways look. “Did you pick up an extra shift?” I ask as I slide back into my seat, and Mom takes hers beside me. Diana pulls up a spare chair and plops down next to us.
“Nope,” she says. Then she catches Mom’s eye, a spark of amusement in hers. “Just got talked into doing a favor for a friend.”
Oh god. What’s going on?
I glance back and forth between them frowning, trying to work it out. I don’t have long to wonder, though, because pretty soon the coffee shop bell is ringing again. This time, it’s another welcome sight, but an even more confusing one.
Giovanni strides into the shop, dressed to the nines in a suit and tie. I frown. He told me he had a business meeting today… Maybe something went wrong with it? Or they let him out early? But then, why is he here, at lunch with me and my mother… He’s way too well-dressed for that.
I’m still trying to puzzle it out when he reaches our table. He can probably see the confused frown on my face, the calculations I’m doing because he wastes no time.
Gio drops to one knee beside my chair and catches my hand.
Oh.
My.
God.
My lips part as I stare down at him. For a moment, he doesn’t even speak–he doesn’t need to. Everyone is beaming. Cameras flash–not just Mom’s and Diana’s, but the new kid at the coffee shop, and a few other tables around us. I don’t mind. I don’t have eyes for anyone but Gio right now.
“Corbella,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Ever since I met you, my life has changed. Sometimes for the stranger,” he says, and both Mom and I laugh. “But always for the better.” His grip tightens on my hand. He reaches into his coat, and I feel like I could float away right now. I never expected this.
When he draws out the little box, I almost want to stop him right there and say yes. But he’s nothing if not precise about the way he does things–that’s my Gio. He locks eyes with me, a little smirk on the corner of his mouth, already knowing what I’m thinking, probably.
“Corbella, will you marry me?” he asks, at the same moment that he flips the lid of the box open.
The ring inside is stunning. A heart-shaped diamond, surrounded by my favorite stones, rubies, on either side. But I have eyes only for him.
“Yes,” I say, grinning at the way his whole face lights up when I do. “Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times.” I barely have enough time to get those last words out, because he’s already launched to his feet to pull me into an embrace. Our lips meet, and this time, our kiss really does last forever.
When we part, he slips the ring onto my finger–a perfect fit, because he always knows how to size me up.
Diana and my mother are both crying, hugging him, then me, then both of us at once. The whole coffee shop is watching us, some people taking photos, the kid behind the counter pouring XL lattes on the house for us in celebration.
As Giovanni loops his arm around my shoulders and draws me tight against his side, I know that I could not possibly be happier. I finally found the perfect man…
And he might enjoy tying me up, but I couldn’t have found a better man to tie down. As if reading my mind, as usual, Gio leans in to kiss my cheek softly, then nibble lightly on my earlobe.
“I already have some ideas for our wedding night…” he whispers, his stubble scratching my cheek as he draws away to accept another congratulatory hug from my mom. My face is burning red-hot, and yet, I can’t stop grinning either.
I can’t wait to see what he has in mind this time…
* * *
I stand in the bathroom mirror, staring at myself, still not quite able to believe it. But the ring–the rings on my finger–don’t lie. I’m a married woman now.
I’m Gio’s. Now and forever.
I smile at myself, and slip off the wedding dress. Downstairs, the festivities continue, Diana and her date drinking all the champagne in sight. Mom and her new boyfriend (thoroughly vetted by Giovanni, and about a million times the better man than Anthony could ever hope to be) tearing up the dance floor. But we slipped away early. After all, I’ve been waiting months to find out what Gio has in store for me tonight. I couldn’t stand to wait any longer.
“How are you doing in there?” he calls, his voice gruff with impatience.
I smirk and drop the dress to the floor. Turn in the mirror to admire my brand new lingerie. I have a feeling he’ll enjoy it. The top is a tight white corset, open on the back, and tied tight, so he can see the way the strings dig into my back. He loves that.
The bottom is just a barely-there lace thong, matching of course, complete with garters that stretch down to the garter belts at my thighs holding up the matching lacy thigh-high tights.
Yeah, he’ll definitely eat this up.
I slip off my wedding shoes and into the backup pair I brought. Sparkly gold heels, which I’m pretty sure he’ll recognize from the last night we spent together as client and escort. I haven’t worn them since that night, but I doubt it’s a night Gio is going to forget anytime soon.
Sure enough, when I stride out of the bathroom at last, the first thing he does is look me up and down, his gaze lingering appreciatively on the heels before he lifts his eyes up to savor the corset. He’s smirking, his gaze hot as ever.
“Turn around,” he says softly.
I obey, doing a delicate twirl on the spot so he can ogle me from every angle.
Then, as I turn back to face him, hilariously, he actually reaches up to pat himself on the back. “Definitely wifed the right one,” he says, and we both burst out laughing.
He strides across the room to sweep me up into his arms, and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him hard. I’ll never get tired of the way it feels to kiss this man.
He lifts me off my feet, spins me toward the bed. But before he can lay me down on it, I rest my hands on his chest, pushing him slightly to get his attention. We break our kiss, and he sets me on my feet beside the bed, head tilted, watching me.
“Yes?”
“Wife has a request,” I say, a little smile playing on my mouth.
His eyebrows rise. “Whatever you ask, my dear, I’ll try to do it for you.”
I step aside and point at the bed, watching him. “Lie down.”
His eyes widen. He even laughs a little. “Were you hiding your inner dom side all along?” he asks, still smirking playfully.
“Oh, I still want you to dominate me,” I explain, grinning. “But first, I want a turn. Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
Despite the playful tone we both have, I can tell this is turning him on. He obeys me, lying down along the bed, hands behind his head, cockily propping himself up on one elbow.
“Clothes off,” I add, as I turn toward the closet, where I hid this particular surprise. I know he’s got a full night in store for us, but I decided he shouldn’t be the only one with secrets. I can surprise him every now and then, too.
I take the item out, carefully concealing it behind my back, as I turn back to the bed to enjoy the show. Giovanni keeps his eyes locked on mine as he strips off his shirt, slowly. I’ll never get tired of that view, the slow unveiling of his tattoos scrawled across his muscular torso. There’s a new one, right over his heart, which he had inked on yesterday. It’s still shiny, fresh. The bright red outline of a heart. I watch that spot in particular, as he leans up to shimmy out of his tuxedo pants.
Those land on the floor beside the shirt and tie. His boxers follow soon after, giving me a full, glorious view of the sexy as hell man that I just married.
I stride back over to the bed, leaning over him. “Hands up,” I say.
Now his eyes really go wide. But he listens, lifting his arms over his head. I draw the length of white silk cord from behind my back now, and wrap it around his wrists. I’ve watched him tie me up enough times that I know how to do it well.
I bind his hands together, tie those to the bedpost, then spread his legs and straddle him, smirking down at his prone form.
It’s not my usual thing. I much prefer being in his position generally. But sitting across his waist, feeling the hard press of his cock beneath me, and watching his eyes dilate with desire, his chest rise and fall as his breath speeds up, all the while knowing that I am in complete control of his pleasure now… Well, I can see why he enjoys being in this position so much.
I lean down to kiss his chest lightly, right over the sensitive spot where his fresh tattoo is inked. He jumps beneath me, hands tight around the bonds I tied.
I smile and lightly blow on his chest, trailing my head down his torso, past his abs, toward his erect cock. He shivers the whole time, and when I lightly bite his hip, letting my teeth dig in just enough that he’ll feel it, he gasps and jerks against the bonds.
Yeah. Definitely can see why he likes this.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, his voice torn between wry sarcasm and an undercurrent of lust that he can’t hide.
“Very much. Aren’t you?” I glance up at him and wiggle my eyebrows.
“I have to admit, you’re sexy when you know what you want,” he murmurs, grinning.
“Mm…” I run my hands over the plane of his stomach, tracing his abs, all the way down to the V-cut that leads to his groin. “I must always be sexy, then.” My eyes flash to his. “Because I always know what I want.”
“No disagreement here.” His smirk widens.
“Don’t worry,” I add, raising my eyebrow at him. “I’ll let you have your way with me soon. I just wanted to taste you first…”
He tenses, and with that, I dip my head to trail my tongue along the length of his full, glorious cock. He is too fucking sexy. Not to mention, I can never get enough of the way he tastes. That heady scent of his surrounding me, as I lick and suck his thick, hot cock. He barely fits in my mouth, and yet I love forcing him deeper, straining to take him in as deep as I can. When the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat, I slide back up his length, my lips clamped tight around him, my tongue tracing the familiar ridge along the underside of his cock.
At the tip, I swirl my tongue around him, lapping up a drop of pre-cum that was glistening on his tip, just waiting for me to taste him. God, I cannot get enough of this man.
He’s breathing hard, his eyes closed, and I look up at him, enjoying the view from here as I slide my lips down his cock again, my hands toying with his balls as I do.
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs, and when I glance up again, he’s watching me do this, enjoying the view. I part my lips, flick my tongue along his smooth, velvety length, turned on as hell by the way he devours the sight. “You are dangerously good at that, Mrs. Vos.”
Fireworks light up my belly at the sound of my new name in his mouth. Mrs. Giovanni Vos. I could definitely get used to that.
I grin and suck him into my mouth again, watch him groan and pull at the restraints.
“Unfortunately,” he adds, once he’s recovered from that burst of sensation, “You’ll have to stop soon. Unless you don’t want to find out what I had in store for you…”
I pause, hovering over his cock, torn. On the one hand, I would like to make him finish, to taste his cum again–I can never get enough of that taste. On the other hand, I’ve been waiting far too long to learn what he has in store for me tonight…
With a sigh of regret, I slide back up his body, pausing along the way to kiss his abs, his pecs, his neck, finally his lips, sinking into the kiss as his tongue parts my lips to explore my mouth. Then I reach up over his head and undo the knot in the rope, freeing his hands.
Gio wastes no time. The moment the rope falls away, he has me in his arms, flipping me over, pinning me beneath him as he redoes the knots, this time around my wrists. I squirm against the bed, grinning over my shoulder.
He smirks down at me, and slaps my bare ass once, hard, with the flat of his palm. I squeal, as he laughs softly. “That’s for tying me up,” he says. Then he leans in and kisses the spot he just smacked, his lips a spark against my sensitive skin. “And that’s also for tying me up,” he adds with a grin. “Now it’s your turn…”
He draws something out from under the pillows, and has it wrapped around my eyes before I even realize it’s a blindfold.
I pout as he ties it around the back of my head. “I was enjoying that view,” I protest.
His hand finds the sore spot on my ass again, and I tense. But he just massages me gently, his fingers dancing across my skin. “Don’t worry. You’ve got the rest of your life to enjoy it,” he says, his voice hot and close beside my ear, making me shiver.
Part of me still can’t quite believe this is my life. That we made it here, after everything we had to go through. That I found a man like Giovanni, so kind and caring and thoughtful–and yet so wickedly sexy in bed.
I’m tense, anticipating what he’ll do next. Tie my ankles? Use toys? Pull out the new vibrator we got last week, or some other new toy he’s been hiding from me? Or maybe he’s in the mood for the paddle… I shiver a little. But if there’s anything I’ve learned from my time with Gio, it’s that the anticipation of what he might do is half the fun. It’s what gets me wetter than anything–imagining all the pleasure and pain he’s cooking up for me.
There’s a sting of something hot against the small of my back, and I gasp, arching my neck. But the heat quickly cools into a pleasant, soft sensation. Then his fingers dig in, and I catch the scent of lavender oil. I realize he’s gotten a scented candle, one that melts into massage oil.
That one, I didn’t see coming.
I relax into the sheets as his fingers work their way over my body. He starts with my back, kneading out knots along the length of my spine, then out under my shoulder blades and around my ribcage, pressing hard enough that I gasp occasionally, and yet it’s such an amazing sensation of release. There were all these knots I didn’t even know were there, making me tense and holding in my stress. When he reaches my shoulders, both of us have to laugh because I’m just a mess of knots there.
“Was something stressing my lovely wife?” he asks, in a low voice that’s a mixture of concern and a touch of rebuke. Gio doesn’t like it when I hide stresses from him. He always wants me to tell him what’s going on with me, what my concerns are, what problems I might have… It’s sweet, how he always wants to share my pain points in life. But sometimes I feel bad dumping it all on him. Especially this kind of stress.
“Wedding planning just took a lot out of me,” I admit, my voice low and distracted as he continues to knead my shoulders, digging his thumbs in hard to the tougher kinks. I groan as he releases one particularly thick muscle spasm. “You know, between Mom freaking out about the guest list and making sure our day would be perfect…”
Gio leans over to kiss the side of my neck gently. “I married you,” he says. “It would have been the perfect day even if it was just the two of us in a mud-covered tent in the middle of nowhere.”
I smile, feeling another thrill of sparks in my belly. “I know.” I tilt my head so he can reach my lips, and he obliges, kissing me deeply. “I just wanted to make sure it went well, because…” I shrug, and he grips my shoulders hard, forcing me to lie flat against the bed again. “Because I wanted to show you how much I care about you with this wedding.”
He sighs, a long and belabored sound. “My silly little slutty wife.” He slaps my ass, but lightly this time, with affection. “Haven’t you realized by now that I already know how much you love me? You don’t need to prove it to me with big shows of affection.” His hand trails up my arms to touch the rope around my wrists. “Or by tying me up,” he adds, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
“I know I don’t need to,” I protest, pushing myself up onto my elbows so I can turn toward him. Even though I’m blindfolded, he knows me well enough by now that I’m sure he can imagine the expression on my face. “I want to.”
He kisses me again, softly, and then starts working on my arms. That distracts me enough that I fall back onto the sheets, sighing as he kneads my biceps, my forearms, all the way up to my fingers, which he teases out from around the rope and rubs one at a time.
Then he slides down my body, making sure to press himself against me so that I can feel his cock pressed into the small of my back, gliding over my ass and down along my inner thigh. He adds another fat, hot dollop of the hot wax to my ass, and works that in with strong fingers, squeezing my ass, the backs of my thighs, my calves, all the way down to my feet, which he massages gently after sliding off my heels, spreading his fingers between my toes, working at my soles until any remaining tension I felt from wearing those heels or my wedding shoes before them melts away.
I feel like a puddle now, utterly relaxed, totally submissive. I couldn’t move if I wanted to–and I definitely don’t want to.
Only then do I feel Gio spread my legs and position himself between them, his cock sliding up and down my slit, coating himself in the massage oil that dripped between my legs, mingled with my own juices as my excitement builds.
When he slides into me, both of us gasp with want. He only thrusts a few times though, before he stretches his body over mine and undoes the knots around my wrists. “I need to see your face,” he murmurs as the rope falls away.
I tear off the blindfold the moment I can, and he pulls out of me just long enough to flip me over beneath him, then comes back down against me, our bodies pressed together, chest to chest. This time, when he pushes into me again, I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and pull his whole body against me as he starts to fuck me.
“Fuck yes,” I sigh into his neck, before he tilts my head back with one strong hand and gazes directly into my eyes as he continues to fuck me, faster now, our hips bucking against one another, both of us moving in earnest.
“I love you, my beautiful wife.” His voice is low and husky, full of emotion, which I can also see written all over his face. He doesn’t even need to tell me he loves me–though of course it’s nice to hear. I can see it in his eyes, the way he gazes into mine.
“I love you, husband,” I reply, my own voice thick as well. It’s the first time I’ve called him that. The first time for the rest of our lives.
He speeds up, thrusting into me faster, and at the same time, drops one hand between us to finger my clit. My body bucks against his at the sudden spike of pleasure, and I moan in protest. “Not fair,” I gasp. “You can make me finish first.”
“I could…” His grin widens, as he continues to finger my clit, toying with me, not quite pressing hard enough to get me off. And still fucking me, so I can feel his thick cock against the walls of my pussy as I contract in anticipation. “Or I could just torment you. Take you right to the edge…” He fingers me faster, and my breathing speeds up, my whole body arching into his as my clit starts to throb with desire.
Then he pulls his hand away, sinks back over me to continue fucking. I gasp with something halfway between protest and naked lust.
Now he’s really smirking. “How long before you beg me to let you finish?” he murmurs.
I turn my head to nip at his neck gently, biting just hard enough to leave a mark. “Depends,” I whisper. Then I tilt my hips, angle them so that his cock scrapes along my front wall with every thrust. He groans at the sensation, and I tighten my legs around his waist, trapping him against me. “How long have you got?”
Gio takes both of my hands in his. Intertwines his fingers through mine, and then spreads my arms flat against the bed, splaying me out beneath him. “Well, Mrs. Vos.” He leans up a little to gaze down at me, slowly, raking his eyes up my body an inch at a time. “Since you ask… I do believe I have all night.”
When he finally does let me come, an hour later, both of us finish at the same time. His fingers stroke me to an orgasm, which hits me just as he drops his hand to grip my waist instead, and thrusts into me once, twice, then one last time as his face drops into that lost look of pleasure I’ve come to adore, as he growls my name, pumping his cum into me.
I squeeze my pussy hard around him, milking every last drop I can from him, as he slows against me, both of us panting and coated in sweat.
This time, when he collapses across me, and I untangle our legs and roll over to wrap myself in his arms, I know there’s no time limit. No running clock, no hours to charge. Just me and Giovanni, the way we were meant to be. Together, for good.