Chapter 33: Epilogue

TRISTAN

The crisp night air greets me the moment we step onto the balcony, and it’s a refreshing escape from the whirlwind of the homecoming ball inside. We’ve taken probably a thousand pictures since we arrived fashionably late a half hour ago.

Fashionably late because I’ve been keeping her busy in bed.

The moonlight brushes over her face, making those mischievous eyes of hers sparkle.

“I have to ask you about something,” she says.

I press a kiss against her cold cheek. Her questions don’t scare me anymore. My curious girl made me tell her the whole history of my love for her, all six long, miserable years. The misery is over, and I’ve been making up for it with a fevered obsession these last three days.

“What?” I ask.

She narrows her eyes as she tugs on my tie. “Why did you rush off and masturbate that night I confronted you about entering me into the game?”

I laugh, and the deep, unrestrained sound echoes around us. The memory of that night weeks ago floods back with vivid clarity.

I was miserable then too, but I didn’t know it. It was my first taste of her, and I was ecstatic that I got her attention. She came to that party just to see me.

“Ah, my little Amy.” I poke her nose with the tip of my finger. “Fishing for compliments? I haven’t showered you with enough love lately? I’ll happily change that.”

Her scowl is so adorable that I laugh even harder.

“Don’t tell me you masturbated because of me,” she says. “It’s ridiculous. I barely touched you.”

I lean closer, letting my lips graze her forehead. “I had just touched the love of my life. My body couldn’t handle it.”

When she rolls her eyes, I yank her against my chest. “You brushed these gorgeous tits against me.” I lean down and nuzzle my nose on her chest.

“Tristan! The camera crew will probably follow us out here.”

She tries to jump back, but I hold her tightly.

“Your touch sets me on fire, Amy. I couldn’t even think when you pressed yourself against me. My cock was throbbing.”

Her eyes are wide, reflecting the dim glow of the distant ballroom lights. Her hand drifts down my waist and settles on my cock, sending heat into my gut. “Could I make you rush off to the bathroom right now?”

I grind my hips against her hand. “What about the camera crew now, my little Amy? I think this might be a fantasy of yours. You want us to get caught.”

Her smile is cheeky. “I just want to know if I still have that power. If I can make you so wild you have to…take care of yourself. I might use it in my next chapter. Elizabeth gets a little naughty with Mr. Darcy at the Netherfield Ball.”

“Elizabeth belongs to Mr. Darcy now,” I say in a lowered voice. “He can throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of the ballroom.”

She laughs. “Are you Mr. Darcy now? I always thought you were Mr. Wickham.”

I scowl. “The creep who basically kidnaps the little sister?”

She wraps her arms around me. “He’s the charming devil who everyone adores. Who does that remind you of?”

I narrow my eyes. “Not me. I’m your Mr. Darcy now. When you write your fanfic, you’ll think of me. I refuse to let you cast me as the villain.”

She looks up at me from under her lashes. “You’re the bad boy, Mr. Wolfe. I can’t change the facts.”

“Alright, that’s it,” I say. She yelps when I pick her up and cradle her in my arms. “I’m taking you home now, and you’re getting punished.”

She laughs and squeals, and the joy in my heart is so large I could explode. I have everything I’ve ever wanted in my arms. I bared my wretched, vulnerable heart to her, and now she holds it in her hands.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.