Epilogue
KILLIAN
While I pack up books from the shelves along the wall of Logan’s office, he’s at his desk, boxing his belongings so we can add them to the moving van.
It’s been two months since our wedding—basically the time it took me to heal from the gunshot, and then how long it took for us to fuck until we were willing to take a break from each other’s bodies.
I’ve cherished every day and night spent wrapped up in each other, as this man has utterly consumed me, in the best possible way.
I’m making my way through his father’s encyclopedias, when I reach G-F. For fun, I turn to falcons, enjoying a little light reading before chuckling.
“What?” he asks, glancing over from the box he’s been filling with paperwork.
“Was just reading about my favorite bird. Apparently, peregrine falcons mate for life.”
There’s a spark in his eyes as he smirks. “I could’ve told you that.”
Fuck, he’s so playful. So fun.
So perfect.
“I think I deserve a little break,” I say, adding the volume to the other in the box resting on the shelf, then descend the ladder and approach the desk. “I’m impressed with myself for how I’ve managed to keep my greedy hands off you today.”
Logan’s eyes narrow, but before he has a chance to respond, I’m all over him, mouth to mouth, tongue greeting his. His body relaxes to my kiss, and excitement courses through me, followed by a familiar sensation before he pulls away.
“You feel it?” he asks.
Since I recovered from the bullet wound, there’s a phantom sensation where the bullet struck, though I wouldn’t call it pain. It’s more of a vibrating buzz, electrified by his body. It happens from time to time, and really, I kind of like it, especially because he’s the only one who triggers it.
“I do. Hopefully it’ll remain.”
Logan grins, resting his hand on my chest and studying my expression. “Soon your falcon will be in that big Rothguard cage. For good.”
There’s that buzzing again.
It’s exciting.
It’s electric.
Not only at the thought of him being in my cage, but being eager for it.
“You want to be in my cage?”
I already know the answer even before he says, “I do.”
Means so much to hear him tell me he wants that, and I take his mouth again.
His lips are so greedy for me, nearly as greedy as I am to probe his body with my hands.
I finally break our kiss so I can kiss down his jaw to his throat, one of his favorite places, guiding him back so his ass is pushed up against the edge of the desk.
“Will you keep me safe in your cage?” he asks.
“Of course I will,” I reply, only giving his flesh a moment’s peace before my mouth, lips, tongue, and teeth keep busy toying with him.
“Will you fuck me in it all the time?”
“As much as you need.”
“Will you make me unbearably happy?”
“I’ll give you everything you need and want.” As he moans, I feel a profound sense of satisfaction. It sweeps through me so quickly, I have to catch my breath. “I didn’t realize that just as soon as you surrendered to me, I too would utterly surrender to you.”
I nibble at his throat again, and he bows his head back, offering it up to me.
I slide my hand to the back of his jeans, tucking it beneath his briefs, getting a feel of that perfect ass, only being stopped at the desk.
My cock stiffens, crimping in the crotch of my pants in a way that annoys and excites me at the same time, and instinctively, he reaches down and feels my cock.
He tucks his head against my cheek, whispering, “Bet you want to fuck me right now.”
Even the suggestion has adrenaline coursing through me, my thoughts struggling to focus on anything other than his flesh and scent, and there’s a deep pain in my gut. “I don’t understand how I’ve had you so many times and it’s still not enough. Or why it hurts not to be inside you.”
He rests his hand against the side of my face and tilts it so I look up at him. “I hope it hurts when you’re not in me because it hurts not being filled with you.”
As he claims my mouth again, I stoop down, hooking my arms around his thighs. I lift and shove him onto the desk, spreading his legs and serving his ass up to me as I rub my crotch against it.
“Damn these clothes,” I growl into his mouth, and he snickers. “I don’t see what’s so fucking funny about you making me ache like this.”
“This doesn’t seem familiar? Remind you of…”
My thoughts return to that beautiful day when we tussled in my study. “When you needed me to fuck you on my desk?”
“When you took me against my will on your desk.”
I pull away, wincing. “Don’t play.”
He’s all smirk and confidence. “You love when I play.”
“You’re not wrong.”
I kiss along his neck.
“No, don’t, Killian,” he breathes. “We must finish packing. Don’t take me right here. Don’t, no.”
Just like those early sessions with him, it’s as clear as always that Logan’s no, don’t means hurry the hell up and take what’s yours.
“We really do need to pack,” I say, straining to get the words out when I can feel myself leaking already. I growl, frustrated at the thought of waiting.
“It’ll be good for you to wait,” he assures me. “It’ll make you that much hungrier for my ass.”
He nibbles at my bottom lip, and now my cock is painfully hard, but he’s right. If he’s going to be cruel like this, then that’ll make it more fun later.
“I don’t have to be happy about this,” I tell him.
“Not just yet, at least.” His words are a promise of what will come later.
As I grin, a sound catches our attention. We turn together sharply, those quick instincts we’ve developed through our traumatic lives. The same ones that are likely the reason we’re still alive.
His brother Rory stands in the doorway, cringing. “Oh God,” he groans. “You mind getting it together so that we’re not doing all the work?”
“We’ve been working,” Logan says. “We just had a little break.”
I’m growling, which catches Logan’s attention.
“We’re all hungry,” Rory says, oblivious, “so I wanted to see what you wanted if we get Asian fusion.”
“All of you are hungry?” Logan presses.
“Okay, I’m hungry.” We work out our orders for him to input into the app before he says, “And y’all know, there’ll be plenty of time to fuck while you’re living together, right?”
As he heads off, I say, “Your baby brother’s a real spoilsport.”
“Be nice.”
“Hey, he’s your brother, so he’s my brother too. I’d take a bullet for any of you, you know that, yes?”
His expression sobers. “Too well. And it concerns me a little.”
I’m sure it does because he knows the truth of it.
I rest my hand against his cheek, stroking. “Don’t worry. I would never put myself in danger unnecessarily. I want to cherish every moment I have with you.”
I kiss him again, sealing the promise. Once I’m satisfied, we get back to work, but this time I help him with the desk, maybe because even being over at the bookshelves feels too far away for my liking.
Although, I’m starting to wonder if my cock will give me any peace when he’s only a few feet from me.
Logan’s on his knees, pulling files from the bottom drawer and placing them neatly into a box, when he suddenly freezes, his muscles tense. Something about his body language has me immediately on edge.
“What is it?” I ask, just as I see the envelopes in his hand.
“These are from your dad to mine.” Logan’s gaze meets mine.
Surely we’re thinking the same thing—that these could confirm or refute Clara’s story.
He inspects the drawer some more before pulling out another envelope, this one still intact.
“This one’s addressed to your dad,” Logan says, “but…”
“It was never sent,” I observe.
He pushes to his feet and tears into it.
I’m at his side in no time, reading all the anxiety and tension in his body, which triggers my own.
It reminds me of how he was after his mother attacked him, when the anxiety was so intense, he needed me to fuck him to make it go away, even for a few moments.
I rest my hand on his nape, stroking, hoping to offer some solace.
He pulls the letter from the envelope. “You mind if I read it out loud?”
“Do you want me to hear? Are you sure?” As much as I want to know the truth, knowing these are his father’s words makes me feel like he might want privacy.
He considers that, then nods. “I want you here for this.” He takes a breath before unfolding the letter.
“My Terror, it’s taken me a while to write this, since I’m not feeling too well these days, and I don’t imagine I have much longer, based on what the doctors tell me.
It’s a struggle to even find the energy to do this much these days, but a part of me thinks, even if I don’t send it to you, at least I can have some peace of mind in having written it down.
I know you still blame yourself for what happened to my family… ”
Logan stops, swallows, and I rub gently against the back of his neck.
“I’ve got you.” It’s my promise to him.
He gives me a quick look, revealing his vulnerability. I’m sure he can see mine too, but I don’t mind. Not when I share it with him.
He forges on. “…and I know it’s no use telling you for the thousandth time that I don’t fault you for what happened.
You did the right thing in telling me we could no longer meet up for poker because of the feelings you’d developed for me.
Your action was nothing short of noble, honoring and respecting your agreement with Annabelle once you realized what you were experiencing.
Truly, I think I had always known there was something between us that went beyond friendship.
Perhaps I refused to acknowledge it as more because I knew where I belonged, but since your confession, it has haunted me…
this idea of what our lives could have been like together.
Tormented me, really. Ours has truly been a tragic love story, hasn’t it?
Being so close that it snuck up on us, and then denying ourselves because of the agreements we’ve made.
I appreciate everything you have done, despite the professional distance we have needed to maintain, and what you have done for my life as far as ensuring the safety of my family, ensuring it far beyond my death.
I know why you do this, and before I go, I want you to know I love you too.
In another life, maybe we are together. But as I reach my end, I find some solace in knowing that my agreement comes to an end.
We said till death do us part, which means we’re free once you join me.
And I’ll be waiting for you, my Terror.”
Fuck, am I tearing up?
“My mother was wrong,” Logan says. “They weren’t having some big affair. He wasn’t cheating. They stopped when they realized things had gone too far.”
“Not that Clara’s actions can be defended, but it’s clear they felt very deeply for one another. That’s what she couldn’t bear.”
I’m satisfied in knowing we haven’t been imagining fantasy versions of our fathers. That their word meant something to them. And the way Logan’s eyes glisten, I can see how much it moves him too.
“It means as much to you as it means to me that they were honorable men, doesn’t it?” I press.
“I always wanted to be him, Kill. More than anything. I thought, even if my life couldn’t be one I chose, it would be something worthy of being proud of.”
He trembles slightly, and I tug him closer.
“You should be proud of the man you are. Of your morals, your values. You created those inside you, beyond your father, because even when you believed he may have been a liar, you still did what you knew was right and stayed the course. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. ”
Logan smirks, but I can still see the sadness in his eyes. A tear falls, and I rest my hand against his cheek, wiping the tear away with my thumb.
“Hold me,” he pleads.
With my free arm, I tug him against my body. “It’s okay, my little falcon. I’ve got you.”
He nestles his face against my chest as he releases his pain, this spot in my heart blossoming with life.
I cherish this place in his heart, that he allows himself to be so free emotionally with me.
“You’re not on your own anymore. Your pain, your responsibilities, your duties…
they’re all mine too. You never have to carry these alone again. Not as long as I’m here.”
Logan takes a deep breath, as though truly appreciating the resonance of what I’m saying before he pulls away, looking into my eyes.
“I love you, Log.”
A gentle smile tugs at his lips. “I love you, Kill.”
I kiss his forehead tenderly. “Now come on, little falcon, we have work to do. I need to get you home where you belong.”
Where he’s always belonged.
With me.
THE END