EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
It took some getting use too but having Elliot dominate me is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He’s deliciously depraved, and it does amazing things to me.
Since his apartment is close to mine and neither of our leases are up, we flop back and forth between the two, depending on just how kinky we want to be. The tamer items live in my apartment while the really fun stuff stays at his. And it gives him a place to sleep when he's pissed me off, and I kick him out.
I’m standing in his kitchen cooking his favorite dinner: lasagna and garlic bread; all from scratch, even the bread. I'm hoping to earn myself some time with the riding crop. He hasn't used it on me yet, and I am dying to feel it against my skin. Just the thought sends tingles down my spine, hardens my nipples, and wets my panties.
I hear the door unlock and hold my breath while he puts everything in its proper place and follows his nose to the kitchen. After five excruciatingly long minutes, he rounds the corner and stops in his tracks. From where he's standing in the doorway, he can see me from head to toe.
He takes in the frilly red apron that stops at the top of my thighs, my black lace panties, and four-inch-high black fuck me pumps.
I can see the outline of his cock in his pants. His dick print is my absolute favorite thing to stare at. I'm standing at the sink, washing the dishes I’ve used while making dinner.
Elliot raises one eyebrow as he walks towards me, “Does your husband approve of this behavior, Kitten?”
Elliot stops behind me, pins my hips to the counter with his. One of his hands slides under my apron so he can pick and pull on my nipple while the other hand wraps my braid around his hand and pulls my head back against his shoulder, forcing me to arch my back.
I let out a throaty, needy moan, “Maybe you should ask him, Psycho.”
The hand on my hair loosens, and he wraps his fingers around my throat, squeezing just enough to make me slightly wheeze.
“Is that sass, Mrs. Rodgers? I'm certain your husband will tan your sexy ass for sassing him.”
His fingers latch onto my nipple hard, and I hiss in pain, tensing against it. The atmosphere is instantly less charged, Elliot let's go of me, steps back, and turns me around to face him.
“What's going on with you? I know that wasn't any harder than normal.” He's looking at me with concern, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to let the tears well up in my eyes.
That fucking hurt!
“Nothing, please continue, Mr. Rodgers.”
Dropping my head to look at the floor, I show him the most respect I can as a submissive.
The timer goes off on the oven, signaling that the lasagna is done. I start to reach for it when he says, “I'll get it. You take off the apron. Get on the bed, on your knees, chest, and cheek to the mattress, arms outstretched towards the corners. I hope you aren't particularly fond of those panties. They aren't going to last the night.”
The clicking of my heels on the tile is the only response he gets as I move towards the bedroom to do as he has instructed. The anticipation that he has set fire to in my body is already dripping from my pussy.
I'm in position, ready and waiting for him, my Psycho. I know he's taking his damn time just to make me wait, to stew in the ideas of what he has in store for me.
Devious bastard.
I hear the click of the door closing and his feet moving on the plush carpet. He moves around the room, changing out of his work clothes as if I'm not there, ass in the air, begging to be fucked.
“Knees apart, wider. I want to see that pussy glisten through the lace.”
The closet door opens and closes, drawers open and close, and I'm waiting with baited breath as he selects his instruments of pleasure.
I feel his hand on my wrist, then the fur of the lined cuff he has attached under the bed, securing me in place. He moves around to the end of the bed, smacks my ass once, hard enough to leave a handprint. The unexpected smack makes me jump and moan as the tingles it has left behind make their way to my clit. Elliot rounds the bed and secures my other wrist.
This time I can see him, all he's wearing is black boxer briefs. The sight has me licking my lips.
Elliot smirks, “I'm sorry to disappoint you, Kitten, but you will not be sucking my cock tonight. I have other plans for you.”
From below my field of vision, he lifts the riding crop, and I can't help but bite my lip in anticipation.
“Thank you.”
“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” Elliot commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.
I do as he asks, and he rubs the tip of the crop against my tongue. The smell of fresh leather fills my nose and makes my ass clench.
Taking his time, Elliot works my body over with the riding crop. Down my back, over my ass, and down the back of my thighs, my skin is now pink, sensitive, and warm.
Suddenly, he rips the panties from my hips and inserts two fingers into my sopping wet pussy. I cry out from the unexpected intrusion and the pleasure. In and out, over and over, he's fucking my pussy with his fingers but hasn't touched my clit. He knows I can't cum without touching my clit. He's working me into a frenzy with no foreseeable orgasm in my future.
Once he's got me writhing and begging for release, he slows and spreads my wetness to my ass. He continues to spread my juices toward my ass, slowly working one then two fingers inside me.
“Tonight, is the night, Kitten, that I fuck your ass.”
The thought makes my pussy and ass clench. The toys we've played with to get me use to the sensation have been amazing, always leading me to explosive orgasms. Knowing that I will finally take his cock makes me want to purr like the kitten he refers to me as.
“I don't care as long as I get to cum,” I say between moans.
“Orgasms I can promise you, my love.”
Elliot comes up onto the bed behind me and drags the tip of his cock through my folds.
“Where's your ring?”
I can’t believe it’s not there. I’ve grown very attached to that glorious ring of pleasure.
Elliot chuckles, “I switched it out for my curved barbell. I don't want it to cause any issues the first time I take your ass.”
He lines his cock up with the tight ring of muscle, “Take a deep breath and relax. I'm going to go slow, let you get used to the feeling of me.”
I take a deep breath and let it go. I can feel him push against me, his thick head trying to demand entrance. I try to relax, but I'm scared and tense up instead. Elliot reaches around my hip and rubs my clit. He knows exactly how to play my clit to get an orgasm out of me.
In no time at all, I'm on the verge of a massive orgasm. I'm riding his fingers like the dirty slut that I am for him, moaning and begging him to fuck my ass and to let me cum.
Just as I'm about to cum, the head of his dick enters me, flinging me into a euphoria I've never experienced before.
When I come back down from my earth-shattering orgasm, Elliot is slowly working his dick into my ass.
“Fuck yes, more please,” I moan to him.
“You're so tight baby, just be patient. I'll give you all of it.” He says in a strained voice.
As much as I'm able too, I push back against him, taking another inch.
“Fuck. Annabelle, hold still, or I'm going to hurt you.”
His voice isn't as commanding as he would like it to be and sometimes I'm a bad submissive, so I don't listen and push back harder.
Elliot moans and slaps my ass hard, “I said stop it! I am in control here, not you. Move again, and I'll stop everything.”
“Please Psycho, fuck me. I can take it.”
I'm begging, and I don't care, I need him to fuck me hard.
He finally relents and slams into me. He gives me approximately five seconds to adjust before he's pulling back then thrusting forward again, setting a brutal pace, but I love every second of it.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Please make me cum. I need to cum.”
Elliot continues to pound away at my ass, ignoring my begging, and keeping up his rhythm.
After a few minutes his rhythm starts to falter, “Please, Psycho, please let me cum. Please!”
I'm begging him with everything I have. I feel his arm reach around me, and his finger circle my clit, three swipes over my clit and I'm coming hard, squirting, and screaming as I do.
Elliot collapses on top of me, my knees give out, and we just lay there, my heels falling off my feet. Our breathing heavy and our sweat-slicked skin making us stick to each other.
“Umm, Elliot?” I say uneasily.
“Give me a second, Baby. I'll get you cleaned up and start your aftercare.”
He's still panting, which makes me smile. I love that I can bring this man to his knees.
“That's not it. I just need you to get off me. You're squishing the baby.”
I bite my lips to keep from laughing, waiting for him to catch what I just said.
Elliot rolls to the side and flips over onto his back.
I turn my head to look at him, I know he's going to catch up real quick and unfortunately, I'm still secured to the bed.
Confusion crosses his face before he whips his face toward me.
“Baby? Did you just say, baby? Are you pregnant?!?”
He's all but yelling at me, and I can't help but laugh.
“Annabelle, are you fucking pregnant?”
I open my eyes, a huge smile on my face, “Yes Elliot, I'm pregnant. Will you please untie me now?”
“Untie you? I should turn your ass red! What the hell were you thinking? If I had known you were pregnant, I never would have been that rough with you! I could have hurt you and the baby!”
He's yelling now, pacing the floor behind me, waving his arms around as he yells.
“That's exactly why I didn't tell you! I wanted one more hard fuck before you started treating me like I'm made of spun glass. Now, will you please untie me?”
I'm getting irritated because I'm getting uncomfortable, my wrists are sore from the cuffs, my shoulders are tight from being held in position for so long, and I need to pee.
He stops pacing and stands directly behind me. I can feel his thighs between my calves as they hang over the edge of the bed. Suddenly he spanks me twice, hard. I know he's left marks this time.
I yell out at the surprise, “God damn it!”
“Now I'll untie you.” He says with that damn smirk in his voice.
He helps me up, and I run to the bathroom to pee.
Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, he looks delicious. If I weren’t so exhausted, I would try to convince him to fuck me again. This kid is already screwing up my sex life.
As I enter the shower, he steps in behind me, “How far along are you?” He asks with his hand on my lower stomach.
“About ten weeks, I have an ultrasound picture to show you,” I say as I put my hand over his and look up at him. He kisses me softly, lingering but sweet.
“We'll finish this discussion after the shower. I want to see my baby,” Elliot tells me as he reaches for the body wash and loofah.
He lathers me up, head to toe, trailing his fingers behind the loofah. He’s checking my skin for abrasions, welts, or bruises that will need his attention afterward and it makes me smile.
He washes and conditions my hair, massaging my scalp as he goes. Once I'm clean and sated, he washes himself quickly and turns the water off. The bathroom is filled with steam as he wraps a fluffy towel around my body and starts to dry my hair with another while a towel hangs around his hips.
Once my hair is dry enough for him, he dries my body, lotions my skin and makes sure I am dressed before he takes care of himself.
“Let's eat, baby, it smells delicious.”
Once we've eaten, I get the ultrasound pictures from my bedside table and snuggle into Elliot on the couch.
He stares at the black and white pictures in my hand for a moment, “Here.”
Hesitantly he takes the pictures, “This is our baby?” He asks me, awe making his voice quiet.
“Yes. We won't find out if it's a boy or girl for a while still, but my due date is March 24th.”
Elliot smiles and looks down at me, “If it's a boy, I want to name him Owen in honor of the dumbass that brought us together on that same day, so many years ago.”
“You remember the day you first talked to me?” I ask him, completely taken aback.
“I remember all the significant dates of my life, meeting you was the best day of my life, Belle. It's lead to all this.”