“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants. “So good,” he slurs. I fuck him fast and hard, my cock throbbing with each thrust. He sobs whenever I jam my cockhead against his prostate, pleasure-pain painted across his face. “Please,” he whines. “I need to come. Please, Master.” His ass is wiggling as he struggles not to.
“You like that, don’t you, my little nympho? You like it when I wreck your ass. When I wreck your ripe little turnip?” Shit, I have no control over what’s coming out of my mouth at this point, but this Bunny’s onboard the train, full steam ahead to Fuckville.
“Yes!” he screams. “Fuck that hole. Wreck it. Fuck that turnip. Cream me with your sauce. Soak me in it!” Holy shit. Slamming into him a few more times, I feel the familiar burn in my chest, my vision starting to blur at the sides. Blood rushes in my head and I feel it, my orgasm, washing over me like an all-consuming wave of bliss. I shoot my juice inside him and he moans happily, then comes within seconds, his entire body shaking with his own release.
“Aaaarrrrhhhh,” he calls out, his lofty voice mingling with my deeper one. “Eeeast,” he yells, clenching around me, squeezing my cock in a tight, warm glove.
“Bunny,” I croak, my eyes stinging, my throat burning. “My Bunny.” I love him so much. More than I ever thought possible. And just likealways, we’re one body, one soul, one heart. When he speaks, his voice is breathy. “I love you so much, East. So so much.” And then I do cry, just a little. Because it’s overwhelming as fuck when you never thought there was someone out there just for you, and then suddenly, he’s right here.Everywhere.
“I love you too, darling,” I kiss his damp neck. “I adore you,” I laugh and he winces. Carefully, I pull out. His hole is pink and beautifully bruised. Then, when he laughs too, my cum—mixed with chocolate—oozes from his hole. Like fuckingMilkyWayspread; creamy white and rich chocolate. What a sight. It’s like him and me, night and day, light and darkness, the fucking sunshine to my grumpy arse.
“Fucking hell,” I curse, then dive right in between his peachy ass cheeks. Licking along his crease, I scoop up my cum with the tip of my tongue, then suck more directly from his pucker. He giggles and squirms beneath me, and I hum against his rim. The taste explodes on my tongue, but I don’t swallow. Leaning up, I grab him by the shoulders, lifting him, then spinning him around. He regards me through a haze, his eyes love drunk, hair a mess, and the bunny ears askew like the first time he wore them for me. He looks well-fucked and oh so very, very lovely. He looks like mine, my Bunny.
I lean in and claim his mouth in a fierce kiss, hoping that it conveys everything I feel for him. How grateful I am that he came into my life and brought the sunlight with him. That he brought spring. He opens for me, sucking the cum from my mouth, moaning hungrily. We kiss and kiss like there’s no tomorrow. Until there’s no cum left. Until he’s swallowed it all, the evidence of my desire for him now pooling in his stomach.
The world has gone quiet outside, the good people of Nettle Green now resting in their beds, perhaps kissingtheir loved ones too. Tomorrow, the rush before the holidays starts in earnest, only three days left until Easter. But for tonight, the world has come to a stop, resting as it bears witness to a love unlike any other. A love between a Bunny and his Master. Between a broody chocolate shop owner and his enchanting assistant. But most of all, a love between two men, two lonely souls, who found their peace and purpose in the other.
Epilogue
Bunny
One Year Later
Iused to think that a name was just a name right up until he gave me mine,Bunny, and then later his,Bennett. Yes, I’m a Bennett now, and have been for a little over two months. Funny how life just seems to sort itself out when you start living it. When you find your place in it. When you find… a home.Him.Those two words will forever be irrevocably tied together.Himandhome. I can’t think of the one without my mind automatically going to the other.
So, I’m practising until I’m happy that it looks perfect.Bennett.I snort to myself because now I am, too, a character in a Jane Austen novel. And not just any character, no, I’m the hero of my own story. The captain of my own ship. And East, my wonderful adoring husband, is the wind in my sails. Yes, it sounds cheesy, I know, but it’s my life now. It’s a romance novel and each day with him,my dashing husband, my Master, I get to live out my very own happily ever after.
When I’m almost happy with theBennett, I go back to my list. It’s never-ending, just like our immortal love. It goes on and on until my head spins right down a rabbit hole and I get all nauseous and antsy and I just crave him. It’s overwhelming, frankly, the sensation, but I know I do the same to him. He’s told me many times. How he can be in the middle of putting away some papers in his office, or organising some new delivery from Juan, and then it just strikes him, that craving, that itchy feeling. Therawneed for the other. Like we, too, are irrevocably dependent upon each other. Like the cocoa plant needs the water. Like the sail needs the wind. Like love needs light and trust and tenderness in order to flourish and grow. I used to think love wasn’t for people like me, but now I have it in abundance, because we’re both determined to let it grow, nurture it, and keep it safe.
I pick up where I left off yesterday. ‘Bunny’s List of Bestest Things.’My black pen stands out against the soft lavender paper, a row of spring flowers lining it at the very bottom. My mother-in-law, Dot, gave it to me for my birthday last year. Both the pen and the paper and a lot of other cute stationary with flowers and birds on it. It was the best birthday ever because I got to spend it with my four favourite people in the entire world; Dot, Mr Harvey, my East, and Penelope. Yes, she was invited too and from the look on her face, one would’ve thought that she’d been invited to a royal wedding. She’s become my best friend. I’ve never had a real friend before. Mr and Mrs Glass usually don’t trust anyone to take Penelope out aside from themselves, but they trust me. Because I make Penelope happy. It’s easy to makeother people happy when you’re happy yourself. That’s what most people don’t get. Happiness is contagious.
Twice a week Penelope and I go to Mr Harvey’s garden and work alongside each other for hours and afterwards East takes us both out for ice cream—or hot chocolate if it’s too cold for ice cream. If it was up to me and Penelope, it would never be too cold for ice cream, but my husband is funny like that. He also makes me wear a scarf all the way through April so that I don’t catch a cold. Luckily, he has learned to distinguish between my sniffles by now, or I’d be confined to my bed most of the time. I was the week after our wedding—confined to my bed, that is—but that was for entirely different reasons. I know he calls mehis funny little thing, but I swear, most of the time, he’s the funny one, my husband.
I muffle a giggle with my other hand. Husband.Eeekkk.Okay, the list. After Dot, I put down Mr Woolly. He’s my rabbit. Ajersey woolly, hence the name. East got him for me for our anniversary when he was just a baby. Mr Woolly, of course. Not East. That would be kind of weird and impossible, too. He’s the cutest thing ever, my little guy, with his soft grey fur and his black head and black paws. I love him so much. He makes this squeaky noise whenever I come out into the garden, lifting onto his hind legs, eager for me to pick him up. I told him about his predecessor, Bunny, and how I never thought I’d be happy again after I lost him. Mr Woolly looked at me with his huge brown eyes and I swear I saw a murderous glimmer in them, like he wanted to run off and ravage my mother’s rose garden.
After Mr Woolly, I put down my pastel briefs and all my pastel-coloured dress shirts. I have just as many as Jay Gatsby now; even Meredith said she’d never seen as many pastels all at once as when the order East had made came in. Then, of course, we watched the movie.The original, obviously. East fell asleep halfway through, but I forgave him because I’d kept him up late the night before, testing out a new technique of going down on him.
After putting down Mr Harvey’s hugs, followed by lavender tulips, I flip to the next page and grin stupidly. It’s already filled, only one word written again and again. East.East, East, East.Like always, a lump forms in my throat as I start tracing the four letters of his name. I don’t know why I still get this emotional. It just comes over me. Maybe because I never saw him coming. I never in a million years expected someone like him for someone like me. Or perhaps it’s because he has stayed true to his promise thatnothing—absolutely nothing—will change his mind about me. About us. About how he feels about me. That I am his.
Because I did have another accident… as in I peed in our bed. It was after my birthday when I’d had too much champagne. This time, when I woke in the damp, clammy bed, I didn’t flee like before. I woke East up instead, just like I’d promised I would. He just kissed me, my East, right on the forehead, before he got out of bed and pulled me right with him. He drew me an orange blossom bath and, while I was soaking and crying tears of gratitude, he changed the sheets and then came and joined me. And held me. I don’t cry tears of shame anymore. I’ve decided to put shame in the past where it belongs, with my parents.
Oh, speaking of my love, there he is, lingering in the door to his office. He looks flushed and I know that look all too well. It is, after all, one of my favourites. It’s the ‘I got the craving’ look. It’s the ‘I can’t help myself and I don’t give a fuck what you’re doing, Bunny, but I need you right now.’In a second or two he’ll grunt because he thinks I haven’t noticed him, although he’s all I ever see.
“Hrrmmm.” See? Called it.
“Oh, hello there.” I smirk, putting the cap on my pen as I look up. “I didn’t see you there,” I blink in my best Oblivious Bunny fashion. He scowls, mumbling his usual, “don’t play with me, Bunny,” that goes straight to my balls. Shifting on his office chair, I tap the tips of my fingers against the wooden desk, waiting him out, like I’m some school principal, and he’s late for class.
“What are you doing?” he scans the desk, a pretend aloofness to his voice, like he just came in looking for an order or some random piece of paper.Oh, I see you, Mr Bennett. I see right through you.
“Making a list,” I smile at him.
“Another one?” he sighs, rubbing at the golden scruff on his chin, making my mouth water, my inner thighs burning with the phantom feel of his face buried between them.
“So what if it is?” I swallow down a mouthful of drool. “When you used to have nothing to make lists about, it’s nobody’s business if you feel like making them all the time.” He snorts at that, as he moves inside the office, and up to the desk, where he leans his right hip against it, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest. Another tidal wave of drool flushes my mouth and I fail to bite back something that sounds like amweep.
“Nobody’s business, huh?” he stares at me, raising a blond brow at me, his silent warning making my hole clench like a clam.
“Sorry, Master,” I swallow, and heat flickers in his blue eyes. Uncrossing his arms, he moves around the desk until he’s hovering right next to me, reaching out his left hand, burying the right in his pants pocket. His fingers dive into my hair, carding through my wild locks slowly. Goosebumps spread down my neck as he pets me, humming contentedly, like he’s had his fix. His Bunnyfix. Then he leans down and presses a tender kiss to first my forehead, then the tip of my nose, until he finds my lips in a searing kiss that promises the entire world and then some. I feel his smile against my Cupid’s bow, his scruff tickling my skin, his familiar scent engulfing me. He hums again, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, laving at it with his tongue. Then, just like that, he releases my lips, and I find myself panting like a bunny in heat, my butthole twitching.
