Epilogue
Laila, three glorious toe-curling weeks later
W e never did get those four nights at The Gilded Key Society. But that’s okay. I have a lifetime with my men, and I know we will return to our favorite adult club for some fun as time allows. It might be hard for the first two years. As it turns out, I presented the idea of establishing our own version of Club Genesis in Seattle. The men didn’t want me to be an undertaker and that is fine. I’ll be too plump to touch my toes in a few months. So I opted for the second-best option. Being the boss of the undertakers alongside my men.
With my law degree and their pedigree—plus mine—we won’t have any issues getting members to see the benefit of being a member. The men of Genesis back in Chicago have agreed to be our advisers until we are up and running. If all goes well, we will form an alliance that will serve the underworld. I’ll have to work hard not to end up like my father and die before my time, but crime pays. With us at the helm of this city, we’ll at least have a fighting chance of keeping the streets clean and under our reign.
A week after my stepfather’s death I had powerful men reaching out to me. My mother did a great job of hiding from her birthright in the crime world she was born into. With her and my stepfather gone, the power has shifted to me and those who respected the Romano name want to build the family back and want me at the top with the crown. As for what I want? I don’t know about that. Especially if I can’t even shoot a gun.
I slap at Con’s hand when he tries to hand me a small snub-nose revolver.
“Woman. You either take this or I will be glued to your ass from here on out.” His brows are pulled low over his eyes and his mouth is doing that flat-lined thing it does when he gets mad.
Poor baby. There’s more than one way to rule over one’s territory.
I cock a hip and lean against a table filled with empty magazines, various revolvers, a couple of Glocks, and others I can’t remember. He told me the name of them, but he might as well be counting off the names of soccer teams. They are all the same to me.
“Who says I need your protection?”
His large hand takes mine and before I know it that revolver is shoved in my hand. “Damn it, Dante. Not you too.”
My other lover slash blood husband slash torturer shrugs and my empty hand is itching to slap that smug look off his face.
“Raise it and shoot me. Let me make it easier for you.”
Con comes in front of me. He’s wearing black cargo pants and a black T-shirt stretched over muscles I’d much rather lick than shoot.
“Some days, Con. Some days you do tempt me.” I try to put the gun on the table, but his fingers wrap around mine, preventing me.
“Good,” he grunts, and the freaking lunatic steps into the gun.
“Now, pull the trigger.”
“No.”
“Point the gun at Con. Shoot him.”
Bastian who has stayed quiet for the last fifteen minutes while he cleaned his gun finally joins the debate.
“Great. You too? This is stupid.” I’m surrounded by all three now and it seems the only way out of this is if I pull the trigger.
“Until you can pull the trigger without hesitation you need our protection.”
“I can’t shoot you.”
“Why not?” His arms are a shield over his chest as he crosses them.
I narrow my eyes on Con. He wants to play? Okay. Let’s turn the tables a little.
“If you think I can shoot you, that only tells me you would have no problem doing it to me.”
“That is not possible. This life or the next. Harming you would be harming ourselves. But you, you should be able to drop someone three times your size no matter what or who they are.”
I turn a wide eye on Dante. I grab the knife from his belt and hold it to his throat and nick his skin. I marvel at the blood running down the side of his neck.
“I didn’t say I couldn’t protect myself. I just don’t like guns.”
Dante’s smile is contagious.
“Since I could balance a blade in my hands, I have loved them. The sleek feel. The weight of a blade countered by its handle. The art and precision. It’s pure elegance.”
I slide the blade a little deeper, but my villain doesn’t blink. No, not Dante. He steps into the danger and teases my darkness to step closer to the surface.
I laugh and drink the drop of blood off his neck before it can hit the white of his collar. He growls, palms my ass and I’m on the table with my legs spread in seconds.
Hands roam and mouths devour. Con lays me down and Bastian is right there to make sure no hair on my head is harmed.
Dante turns the knife on me, and my shirt falls in two pieces to either side, revealing my growing breasts and growing baby bump. Arousal has my lashes falling to my cheeks. Never have I felt so safe in my life. Our tormented souls speak to each other and all three know exactly what I like.
Con takes the knife from Dante and the tip is placed between my breasts. An invisible line is drawn down to my belly button. And farther down.
Con spreads my legs and the sharp end of the blade is poised on my throbbing clit. I shudder and the gasp on my lips is consumed by Bastian’s hungry mouth. His tongue sweeps in, claims and then he retreats until his eyes lock with mine. “You’re a fucking queen.”
I raise my hips and I am not ashamed to say I gasp with curiosity and desire as to what Con and Dante have planned next.
“Dripping fucking wet.”
“Let me see.”
Cool silver glides over the heated skin of my folds. They spread me wide and…
“Con, oh, what… you can’t.”
“I am and Dante is recording it.”
My gray-eyed monster flips his phone around and shows me taking the handle of Dante’s blade into my channel. Hot juices coat the sleek and solid silver. I stretch over thick silver so delicately that it’s almost mesmerizing to see my lover fuck me with the safe end of his blade.
I’m lifted from my place on their weapon’s table and moments later sitting on Bastian’s lap.
Zippers hiss and clothes become non-existent.
“Boys.” I lift myself and sink over Bastian’s hard cock, taking him inside me. Given the size of my growing belly, I need to lean back a little to accommodate my new size. Dante is there to take me and protect me as I ride his brother through an orgasm.
Moments later Bastian covers me in his milk and then I’m in another’s arms and then another’s until we are all spent and I’m dripping with their shared releases. This is my favorite part of any day. When we can be ourselves and enjoy each other’s touches and love.
I’m snuggled against Dante’s chest, his spent cock still inside me. My eyes are closing when I ask, “Were you really going to let me shoot you?”
Con twines our fingers together on one side and Bastian on the other. “No, little birdie. The gun was empty. It’s the first thing you should check. As queen of this territory and yours, you’ll have to learn to protect yourself. For you. For us. For our baby.”
Con is right. This is about more than me and a blade is good, but can only protect me so much. I’ll need to learn how to fight, too, if I want to be truly free of fear.
I sit up and look between the three. “Which of you knows how to fight?”