Bonus Epilogue
Ruin
FIVE YEARS LATER
I can’t thank my twenty-five-year-old self enough. A part of me wants to tattoo the damn date he mutually consented to be woken up in whatever way his Charlotte wanted.
Because now, the thirty-year-old me is waking up to a delicious heat wrapped around his cock. All while my eyes are barely open, pleasure jolting up my spine.
I finally manage to crack one open. A groan slips out when I see my insatiable, naked wife, settled snug between my legs like I’m her favorite fucking meal.
Christ.
This woman has been driving me crazier than each day before for years now.
“My God,” I breathe out, gathering her hair with both my hands, my hips twitching upwards. “Fuck, yes. Take it, my love.”
She gives me a sly wink, her mouth working enticingly as her tongue swirls around my head.
Fucking hell, I might just die this morning.
I’m not sure how long she’s been at it—at me. But I’m dangerously close to coming down her throat. And that wouldn’t do.
It’s almost as though she realizes my next move. In a blink, she’s taken me impossibly deep. My cock hitting the back of her throat.
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
“Christ, my love,” I grit through my clenched jaw, trying my hardest not to spiral. “You gotta… stop. Pause, baby. I wanna… oh fuck.”
This doesn’t happen every day. But when it does, it’s always a welcome, highly anticipated surprise.
This woman knows me inside out. Which is why it’s only seconds before I’m about to come—that she slurps on my cock one last time. And releases me with a pop.
I breathe unevenly as she crawls up my chest. But instead of letting her sit on my cock—like she usually does—I prepare another seat for my darling wife.
Grabbing her by her thighs, I yank her up, settling her mouthwatering pussy right over my chest. She grabs the headboard instinctively with one hand, a knowing smirk painting her beautiful face.
Her other hand threads through my hair. It’s something I’ve started to maintain when she wouldn’t stop teasing me with the ‘hairless’ nicknames.
My hair isn’t long, but it’s long enough for her to clutch them tightly as she guides my head closer. Close enough that my target is merely inches away from my mouth.
I lick my lips, waiting—watching her watch me unravel with need. Then my minx smirks when my eyes start desperately bouncing between her face and her pussy.
“Take a seat, baby,” I rasp, voice roughening. “Don’t make me beg.”
“Wouldn’t you, though?”
Fuck, I totally would.
She squirms, smearing her wetness on my chin for half a second that my tongue darts out and fucking misses.
I’m nearly vibrating with desire, my fingers digging into her skin. I rub my stubble against her inner thigh, my gaze almost pleading.
But she doesn’t relent.
“Sit the fuck down, wife,” I growl, losing my damn mind. “Until all I can breathe is you.”
She tries to shift backwards, ready to tease the hell out of me again. But then gasps when I impatiently haul her up, my mouth closing over her clit in a searing grip.
I flatten my tongue against her dripping heat, and raw, filthy sounds echo through our room. Wrapped inside her guttural moans. Then I grip her thighs tighter, eyes locked on hers as I start my punishing rhythm.
She tugs at my hair, pulling and pushing, fucking guiding my head as she wantonly grinds on my face for her pleasure. Christ, I could come just by watching her use me like this.
A shuddering wave rips through her as she comes—a sob caught somewhere between release and absolute need.
She lets go then—breathless, overwhelmed. Her body collapsing against mine, settling her weight on me fully.
But I don’t stop. I coax every last maddening shiver from her body, my tongue flicking her nub in soft strokes. A moan tears from her throat as she desperately tries to move her body away from my hungry mouth, but I don’t let her—holding her steady.
She looks spent, her whole frame trembling when I slowly pull her down my body, capturing her mouth in a deep, searching kiss.
Our tastes mingle on our tongues. My hands frantically pulling her closer, not wanting a single molecule of space between us.
Then I shift our position so I’m on my side, right behind her. Propping her leg on my arm.
She looks over her shoulder, seeking my mouth again. And I pull her into a languid kiss, as I line myself at her entrance. Slowly pushing in as she moans in my mouth.
Her legs start shaking, her toes curling as I thrust in and out of her. My pace increasing. I slide my hand down her body, grazing every inch of her until my fingers reach her clit, rubbing circles on it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… Theo… oh God! Harder, baby!” she screams.
That’s it. That’s all it takes. My name on her lips that I’ll never tire of.
I knew I was as close as she was. But when her second climax hits, her whole body clenching, my rhythm falters. My thrusts growing frantic.
“God, Charlotte!” And I spill into her with a groan. My mouth burrowing in her neck. My chest heaving against her back when I feel her hand gently massaging the back of my head.
We lie there afterwards, breathless and tangled. My hand lazily strokes her back as she rests against my chest, her leg on my thigh.
A quiet chuckle escapes me as I watch her. That soft, sated smile on her lips—lazy, glowing. The morning sun spills through the curtains, painting her in gold, and for a second, I just stare.
This right here is everything I didn’t know I was allowed to have.
Our home. Not just mine—ours.
I hadn’t touched half the rooms until she agreed to move into my club property. Didn’t see the point. It was just walls before her. Empty space. Now, every corner carries her. Her scent. Her laugh. Her chaos.
Her.
“Not that I’m not grateful, baby,” I murmur, pulling her closer, my hand sliding over her back. “But what brought this on today? You’re not usually this… raunchy.”
She tilts her head, eyes dancing. “Raunchy?”
I huff a laugh. “Uh… insatiable?”
She snorts. “Well, get used to it, I guess. It’ll get worse in the coming months.”
I frown. “What?”
She just… boops my nose.
My confusion deepens. “C’mon, baby. What is it? What do you mean?”
“Theo,” she says, like that explains anything.
“What, my love?”
“Theo,” she repeats, smacking my chest.
I blink at her and mimic her tone. “Charlotte.”
She narrows her eyes, then props herself up on her elbow, expression going flat. “Ruin.”
Oh, hell no. She can’t be calling me that.
“Baby,” I say, hovering over her, grinning despite myself. “You wanna tell your clueless husband what you mean?”
She groans, dramatic as ever, and flops back onto the pillow. I follow her down, my hand cupping her jaw, thumb brushing soft circles along her skin.
She rolls her eyes, then slowly takes my hand. Guiding it down as I pause at her throat. “Cold,” she says, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips.
“You’re cold?” I ask, immediately reaching for her forehead.
She shakes her head. “Colder.”
What?
I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her neck.
“Cold,” she whispers.
I trail kisses along her skin, moving lower—
“Warm…” she breathes when I linger over her chest.
I pause, frowning slightly. I’m still not getting it. But I’m thoroughly enjoying her soft gasps when my mouth drifts further down, just beneath her ribs.
“Warmer… oh—” Her voice catches.
And then—
My lips press against her stomach.
Her body tenses beneath me. “Hot. Hot, hot, hot, hot!”
I freeze.
My head snaps up. I look at her dumbly. Then back at her stomach. Then up again. Realization dawns on me quick.
She’s smiling now—soft and knowing. Her hands come up to cup my face. “You get it?”
My breath leaves me in a rush. “No way…” I whisper, voice already breaking. “Charlotte.”
Her smile widens, eyes shining.
A baby.
She’s carrying our baby.
My chest caves in on itself, something sharp and overwhelming punching straight through me. “You’re… pregnant?” I manage, barely.
She nods.
That’s it. I’m on her in a second, pulling her into me so tight I’m pretty sure I’m crushing her.
“Careful!” she laughs, breathless, hands pushing at my shoulders. “Theo—”
“Sorry,” I choke out, laughing and half crying like a fucking idiot as I press kisses everywhere—her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. “Holy fuck, Charlotte.”
She’s laughing now, bright and full, trying to shove me back but not really meaning it.
“We’re having a baby?” I repeat, like I need to hear it again. “You’re—baby, you’re—”
“Yes,” she says, softer now, her hands sliding into my hair, grounding me. “We are.”
I pull back just enough to look at her. God. “I’m gonna lose my mind,” I breathe, grinning so wide it hurts. “I’m so fucking happy right now, it’s unreal.”
Her expression softens, something warm and steady settling in her eyes.
“Good,” she murmurs. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”
I huff out a laugh, pressing my forehead to hers. “Baby,” I whisper, my voice turning rough with everything I feel. “I was already yours.” My hand drifts back to her stomach, resting there—gentle this time.
“Get to work, Prez,” she murmurs a few minutes later, a little smile tugging at her lips as her hand nudges mine off her stomach.
I groan, pressing one last kiss to her mouth. “Bossy, as usual.”
A couple hours later, I’m finally headed to work. But I stop by the clubhouse before heading to Sinner’s Ink. Gravel crunches under my boots as I make my way toward the entrance.
Charlotte’s already gone—left early for the club-sponsored children’s center that she runs for troubled foster kids. Said something about a new intake this week.
Wardens of Haven
She named it that herself. Couldn’t think of a more fitting name if I tried.
I push the door open, nodding at a few of the brothers scattered around. Ryder and Hound are lounging near the kitchen, mid-conversation, but they both glance up.
Ryder smirks. “You look… suspiciously happy.”
“Fuck the hell off,” I shoot back automatically, but there’s no heat behind it.
Hound just chuckles under his breath.
My phone buzzes in my hand before I can say anything else. I pull it out.
Mr. Richard: Congratulations, brother. And don’t worry, I can teach you everything you need to know. *smirk emoji*
I roll my eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck when it comes to him.
Me: Who told you?
The reply comes almost instantly.
Mr. Richard: Your wife. A few minutes ago. Who else?!
I snort, shaking my head. Of course she did. My chest does that stupid, warm tightening thing again.
My wife. Fuck. I don’t think I’m ever getting used to that and it’s already been four years.
Another buzz and I glance down. A laugh slips out of me as I type a quick thumbs up and pocket my phone. Still grinning like a fool.
I push open my office door, stepping inside. And for the first time in a long time… Everything feels exactly where it’s supposed to be.
Mr. Richard: Dinner tomorrow. No excuses. My wife would kill me if I don’t invite her favorite sister-in-law.