EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
SAM
“Okay, what does it look like to you?”
I pinch my lips hard together, trying to keep a straight face when I glance over at Devon and what he’s showing me.
“Uh…” I clear my throat, almost choking in my attempt to speak normally. “What is it supposed to look like?”
He aims a blank look at me from across the kitchen.
“I don’t want to tell you what it’s supposed to look like. I want you to tell me what it looks like to you.”
I step closer to him, peering intently at the small, wooden figurine in his hand.
“A bunny?” I muse.
Devon frowns hard at it.
“It looks like a bunny?”
“A little, yes.”
He sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping a bit.
“I was trying to make a standing bear.”
His dejected tone makes my heart squeeze.
I cup his jaw, tilting his face so he meets my gaze.
“He’ll love it, Devon.”
His pale eyes soften, blue-gray all I can see.
“You think so?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Even if it doesn’t look like anything?” he mumbles.
God, the way I love this man.
I place a hand on his chest, and rise on my toes, brushing my mouth against his, his skin hot against mine since I’m only wearing a long T-shirt of his, and he’s in just boxer-briefs.
“He’ll love it because his dad made it for him.”
Any lingering wistfulness slowly bleeds out of him, leaving behind nothing but bottomless adoration. It’s the look he has every time he thinks about Eli, every time he’s around him, and it never leaves his eyes.
His arm snakes around my waist until our bodies are plastered together, our legs tangled as we both lean against the counter, and he sets the little figurine down.
“Thank you, Sammy,” he murmurs, dipping his head to press small kisses to my cheek, my temple, the shell of my ear, and I giggle when it tickles.
The corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile.
“I wonder how much shit Gabriel is going to give me when he sees it.”
I laugh, because yes, it’s highly likely Pops will give him plenty of shit.
But I also know he’ll give Devon a rough pat on the back with a proud look on his face, and he doesn’t spare those looks for just anyone.
And yet he’s looked at Devon with nothing but respect ever since Devon asked him to teach him how to make wooden figurines for Eli.
I look at him, and my chest swells with everything I feel for him.
He never left after that first weekend he stayed over. We went back to work that Monday morning, and when I was nervous how to act with him at the company after everything we’d shared, he simply leaned down and kissed me in front of everyone.
It’d been a soft kiss, meant to reassure, to soothe, but also to claim.
He stayed over the next weekend. And the next. Until it was no longer weekends. Until he brought his life here, threaded it with mine, and made it ours.
He changed all the rules for me. He made the way his company operates safer for me, for Eli.
And when he told me about everything he’d been working on behind the scenes to make sure there would be no threats for us in our future—the grueling checks on every client and activity, the phasing-out of anything remotely dangerous—I burrowed deep into his embrace and didn’t leave for a long time.
I beam at the imperceptible scowl that crosses his expression at the thought of showing Pops.
“Can I be there when you show him? Next week’s family dinner sounds like a great opportunity. Or when we go to pick up Eli in a couple of days. That could work too. And you should definitely bring it along when we visit Angel next month. I’m sure he’ll laug—I mean, appreciate it a lot.”
My breath hitches when his hand travels up my back, and settles on my nape, his thumb tracing the fresh mating mark. The subtle caress makes molten desire pool in my belly, reminding my body of all the ways my heat is not over yet.
Reminding me of the moment Devon sunk his teeth into my skin, and sucked like he wanted to etch himself on my body forever.
And now he is.
I’d never felt more connected to him than in that moment, and every single one ever since then. Mates. My mate.
“Are you enjoying this, my sweet mate?” His rough whisper travels across my skin as he leans in to kiss my neck. “You like the idea of watching me get roasted by our entire family?”
“N-no, of course not. What made you think that?”
I feel his smile as he nips and mouths more kisses on me, and I shiver when he pulls me in even closer, his hard cock pressing hotly against my hip, his thumb continuing to rub tight circles on my mark.
“I don’t know. Perhaps because my gorgeous mate is secretly a little devil behind his shy smiles and pretty blushes?”
His eyes are blazing, silver flames burning in their depths when out gazes lock.
“You love it,” I breathe.
“You’re fucking right I do.”
Heat coils slowly low in my groin, my cock pulsing, tenting my T-shirt, slick trickling down my thighs.
“Hey, Devon?” I loop my arms around his neck, my voice shaking. “I think I’m…”
“Yeah, Sammy, you are.” He reaches down, gripping the backs of my thighs, and lifting me up. “Let’s get you taken care off,” he rasps, already walking to the bedroom.
“But we were supposed to eat.” I bury my face in his throat, a small whimper slipping out.
“We’ll eat a little later, my heart.” He nuzzles my hair, right before he lets me slip from his hold. He grips the bottom hem of my T-shirt, and gently pulls it off me, shucking off his underwear in the meantime. “Besides, you’re the only thing I’m hungry for.”
My body trembles with need, his words only making me burn hotter.
“Show me?” I whisper.
He nods, possessive look roaming all over me, before he turns me around with his hands on my waist, placing a kiss on my mark.
“Hands and knees, little omega.”
The soft command makes me melt, every muscle loosening as I climb on the bed just like he told me.
My back arches instinctively when I feel him climb up behind me, and cover me with his body, a shuddery moan leaving me as his length slots between my cheeks.
“Not yet, my sweet.” He licks the mark he gave me only a few days ago at the peak of my heat, the bite still sensitive, before he slides down and kisses every inch of my spine.
Cool air hits my wet hole, but I barely have time to register the feeling because Devon’s tongue is suddenly there, lapping up my slick and pushing inside me.
And my mind completely empties.
My arms give out, no longer able to hold me up as Devon eats me out like a man starved, licking me over and over. I drop my forehead to my forearm, shameless moans tearing from me while he plays with my soft hole, and fucks me with his tongue.
My body moves of its own volition, pushing back to take more, needing him deeper, and his growl of approval vibrates through me.
A sob climbs up my throat, my hands fisting the sheets as I ride his tongue, his steely grip on my ass helping me move, guiding me just right.
God, it’s so good, so mind-numbingly good I’m all sensation and raw pleasure.
But it’s not enough. I want him too much. All of him.
“Devon, please…” I whisper, the words barely audible, but he hears me.
My mate always hears me. He always knows what I need.
I sigh in relief when he covers my body once again, shivering as he wraps an arm around me, hugging my belly, and pulling me tight against him. Like even the smallest of distances is unbearable. Like not touching me is unfathomable.
“How do you want it, beautiful?” He kisses the column of my neck, nuzzling me behind my ear while his palm fists my cock loosely, stroking me lazily.
“You want it slow and sweet? Want me to fill you up and take my time?” His teeth graze my mark, and I cry out as his hand squeezes me, his thumb dipping inside my slit, more slick dripping from me.
He sinks in so easily, fitting perfectly inside me, so hot, so big and thick.
“Or maybe you need it hard and deep. Fuck you on your knees, all bent over for me, until you come apart around my cock.” He growls when I clench hard around him, his hand releasing my cock and cupping my throat. “Tell me, Sammy.”
And it’s the plea, it’s the desperation peeking through his words telling me that he needs me as bad as I need him that sets me aflame.
I look at him over my shoulder, his breath fanning my cheek, his eyes both wild and achingly tender when I brush my lips against his.
“Take me apart, Alpha.”
The animalistic glint that shines in his gaze sends a full-body tremble coursing through me. But it’s nothing compared to the moment his hips pull back, and his cock slams inside me.
And I unravel.
He uses me mercilessly, fisting my hair and keeping my head and chest pinned on the mattress while my ass is in the air, fucking me like a feral beast. His thrusts are hard and relentless, his cock stabbing my gland with a precision and ferocity that make me lose all sense of reality.
When his hold on my waist turns bruising, and he feeds short, shallow jabs to my throbbing spot, I can do nothing but scream, my mouth slack, my eyes sightless, my body covered in sweat and my mate’s scent.
But then, something changes, and I feel his weight settle on me, his chest covering my back, his lips kissing my nape even as he never stops driving into me. He surrounds me completely, pressing me into the bed, his arms draping over mine, his fingers clasping mine.
And I’ve never felt whole like this.
I’m trembling under him, and tears gather in my eyes, my belly hot, my insides pulsing.
“Let go for me, my heart,” he whispers hoarsely, and I do.
I come, surrendered to him, basking in his touch, in his care, full of him in every possible way.
My heart. I love it when he calls me like that.
I think I fall asleep for a while, because the sky is darker through the bedroom window when my eyes blink open a little later. But Devon is awake, his hand feathering over my skin, his expression soft.
“Hey,” I mutter, humming when his fingers travel down my side, from my ribs to my hip and thigh, before they move up again.
“Hi,” he says with a smile.
I scooch closer, cuddling against his chest.
“I fell asleep, didn’t I?”
A low chuckle. “You did. How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted.” I sigh. “But really good. You?”
The way he looks at me makes my stomach flutter.
“I’m perfect.”
It’s impossible to fight back my smile.
“So, you mean you’re not hungry?”
“Oh, I’m definitely hungry. I could eat you whole.”
“I thought you just did,” I quip, and immediately yelp when he dips his head, and nips on my shoulder.
“You’re fucking trouble, Sammy,” he rumbles playfully.
“Yeah, my boss tells me all the time.”
“Wise man.”
I slap his chest playfully, and he grins at me. Dimple and all.
Happy.
Devon is happy.
No matter what is going on at work—the pressure, the responsibilities—his eyes always shine when we’re home.
When Eli crawls to him and taps his leg, asking silently to be picked up.
When he gathers him in his arms until his crying is soothed.
When he cooks dinner for me every Saturday night, and I kiss him senseless for it.
When we sit on the porch swing on lazy mornings, eating chocolate-chip muffins, and drinking sweet coffee.
When we spend our days, and every quiet, simple moment together.
I rub his scruffy jaw, craning my neck to peck his lips.
“He must be. For choosing such an amazing assistant.”
Devon chuckles, his dark hair messy, his eyes tired after days of heat, and it’s flutters all over again.
“He’d be lost without you,” he murmurs, and I fall into the blue-gray I saw for the first time almost two years ago, when I found my mate in the most unlikely of places.
“The feeling is very much mutual.” There is no life without him and Eli. “Thank you for taking care of me all these days,” I add softly.
A late summer breeze slips through our cracked-open window, wrapping us in a balmy cocoon, and his gaze feels like a physical touch.
“I want to give you something,” he says, his tone different. Serious. Intimate.
“What?”
He twists around, reaching into the drawer of the nightstand as I partially sit up and he does the same.
My pulse speeds up when my gaze falls to his open palm.
And the small daisy carved into a square piece of wood.
A little flower like the dozens in the patterns all over the house, the ones I told him we could change into something different when he moved in, but he refused. Because I love them, and he wanted me to keep them.
“You made this for me?” I manage to say, voice thick, tracing the flower with the pads of my fingers, peering at him.
He rubs the back of his neck in a nervous, self-conscious gesture as he nods, the corner of his lips pulling up into a sideways smile.
“Gabriel helped me when I told him I wanted to make you something as a mating gift,” he confesses in a quiet, soft voice, and when he cups my face, my heart trembles.
“It’s nothing compared to what you give me every day.
The kind of happiness I never knew was possible.
The privilege to call you mine.” He rubs his thumb across my freckles, his eyes suspiciously shiny, and my throat burns.
“A home. A family. A safe place to rest.”
His gaze flickers down to the daisy. “I know it’s not a masterpiece or anything, but I thought that maybe you’d like i—”
His words fade into a groan when he gets a lapful of me and I kiss him hard. I wrap myself around him tightly, our hands roaming and gripping, our mouths meeting over and over, our breaths joining.
And when I whisper my love to him, my palm clutching the daisy tightly, and he whispers it back, warmth and happiness filling his eyes, I know I’ve never seen him more handsome.
So, I tell him.
His answering grin makes my heart beat just a little bit harder.
And I know he feels it.
After all, his heart and mine are one and the same.