EPILOGUE
Samia
A year later
“I bet Logan Saint is at the party,” I state, smiling as we walk hand-in-hand out of the private elevator. The long hallway leads to Raene and Tommy’s home.
“Samia.” Kian growls, stretching my name, and my amusement increases.
“What?” I blink innocently at him as he scowls. It isn’t easy to do because we both know I’m not innocent at all in this instance. I’m teasing my husband’s buttons; it takes little to rile his possessiveness.
Kian also knows I have eyes only for one man.
The one I had my wicked way with in the shower this morning. The same man I’m extremely in love with. A world-renowned playboy rockstar could not drag my devotion away from Kian.
Okay, I’ll take a little peek at Logan Saint because he exudes sex appeal and bad boyness. Every woman with a working pulse pants for him.
But not me.
I’m into guys who worship me with extreme passion.
And that man is bringing me to a stop outside a door. His hand slides down my back and lands on my ass to give it a little pat.
“You know what happens if you’re a bad girl.” He warns, stroking a finger underneath my chin. “I don’t mind causing a scene, but do you, my introverted dreamgirl?”
It wasn’t long ago he growled at a man sitting several tables over at a restaurant, who was on a date with a woman, by the way, to stop fucking staring at me, or he’d scoop his eyes out with a spoon. I doubt that man was staring, but I’d blushed to high heavens but was turned on, too. Kian has no hard limits or off valve. If he thinks it, he says it.
And that’s what makes him so stimulating to be with.
“I get spoiled? Ohh. I can’t wait.” leaning up, I kiss him as he palms my ass.
“You’ll be the death of me, won’t you, hm?”
“Not yet, my love. Your body still has some uses.”
There’s power in being loved as profoundly as Kian loves me.
He moved the earth to be with me. He changed the board game pieces all in his devious favor.
Kian smirks and kisses my neck as the door flies open and we’re greeted by a beaming Raene. It’s her son and my godson’s birthday, so I dote on him until he zonks out in my arms after scarfing down a taste of birthday cake.
Though I love little Lorenzo to death and love cuddling with him any chance I get, which is a lot lately since Tommy and his band have taken a break from touring, Raene is home in the city more often. But something across the room has my attention: a brunette siren trying to chat up my man.
“Raene, take my favorite boy while I kick someone’s ass.”
“Oh, shit.” She laughs, bringing her son onto her lap, then passes him to Tommy to take to his bedroom. She sees where I’m staring. The woman holding a glass of champagne was standing far too close to my man. Has she never heard of personal space? Has the woman never seen a germ commercial before? I’m not too fond of the angle of her flirtatious chin, either.
I should have tattooed ‘taken by Samia’ on his forehead.
“What has Kian done to you? Two years ago, you would have cringed at the suggestion of confronting anyone. Now you’re ready to throw down your heels and earrings.”
It’s true. I’m always going to be a natural wallflower. Still, in certain circumstances, my inner tiger will roar, and seeing a woman giving my husband the up and down look…the look I give him when he makes me all crazy and squirmy, right before I jump his bones, then my wallflower fucks off, and I’m ready to do battle with my MacNamara war cry.
All our shared family and friends are at the birthday party. I’ve already talked with Sage and his husband and caught up with Thatcher, who arrived with his two dads. Then there’s the rest of the Fierro family: Theo, his wife, Bexley, and their kids. Lachlan and Laney with their daughter. I have always loved spending time at their parent’s house, so it’s great to say hello to Sena and Noah Fierro.
There are also famous faces, as I predicted, and Kian has already warned me to keep my sycophant fawning to a minimum. The big meanie hates it if I might like someone else more than him, as if I would.
I’m stupidly addicted to my husband in all ways a woman can be.
“Before you wade into the fray, that’s Tommy’s cousin, Renata, and she’s friendly with everyone. Do you know the eternal sunshine people we thought were a myth? Well, she exists.” Raene informs as I mentally beat her down in my mind. I could take her, I’m a mean kicker. “Besides, Kian even isn’t flirting.”
That’s true. He’s probably giving her stock market advice or something equally mundane because money does it for him. God, I adore that man. He does it for me in every way possible, especially the nasty, sexy ways.
“Watch my donut; don’t touch a crumb, I know how many bites I’ve taken. I’ll be back,” I tell Raene, leaving her chuckling behind me and making my way across the room, moving through the crowd to get to Kian. He must have sensed his temper-bubbling wife because he was already turning my way. His eyebrow arches in question as he slowly smiles.
“Do you mind if I borrow my husband?” I direct the request to the girl. If she had any nefarious flirting intent, her face shows no hint as she smiles in return.
“No, go for it. Thanks for the savvy advice, Kian. Hopefully, I’ll be able to implement it into my business soon.”
Raene was right. Tommy’s cousin wasn’t trying to slip her gorgeous way into my husband’s pants. Kian allows me to lead him away by the hand into the quieter kitchen. As soon as we’re there, he pins me to the counter with his hips, his head drops, and a lock of longish hair on top falls into his eyes. I can’t resist moving it aside, just like I can’t help keeping my hands off him at any time. Over the past year, I’ve grown quite obsessed with the man I married.
He inches closer, and the warmth of his lips is just a small distance from mine.
“Look at you, tiger cub, with your claws out. Tell me, baby…” Kian nudges his nose along my jaw, leaving goosebumps behind. Our connection is blinding. How I crave to be near him at all times is utterly ridiculous. “Were you going to claw Renata’s eyes out?”
Kian’s acting all arrogant, like I’m the possessive one this time. I playfully roll my eyes at him.
“I thought she was flirting with you.”
“Yeah, you did,” He growls low and kisses my collarbone. “You nearly dragged me away by the dick when you said ‘my husband’ in your sweet, demanding voice. I almost came in my pants.”
I snort with laughter and poke him in the chest, a little embarrassed for reacting as I had, but I have no remorse. That’s one thing Kian has taught me: never regret what we do for each other.
“You are so fucking hot right now, wife.” He says, low and husky, skimming his lips over mine. I’m super aware of where we are, and we are so not alone, but Kian doesn’t give a damn. He’ll grope me in a crowd of ten thousand if he wants to. He seriously has no intimacy inhibitions. I still have a few, but he’s working on that. “You should take off your panties and give them to me.”
Kian’s love is like nothing I could have ever imagined.
I think he’s detonated every corner of my life, changed it into something I don’t recognize. He’s made my life so amazing that I thank the devils and their secretaries every single day for creating him.
He’s so scandalous that even now, after sleeping with him for this long, after being the receiver of all his sexy moves, he can still render me shy. I feel my cheeks and neck charge with blood, and I quickly look around us to see if anyone overheard him.
“Remember when you promised to behave?” I poke, and he captures my finger to nibble on the tip.
“I was behaving, and then you claimed me like a wild thing, and now I want to be naughty with my wife. Maybe I’ll take you in a quiet corner, put a hand over your mouth, and slip my other one down your panties, see how wet you are.”
“Kian, you will not.” I wheeze, turned on. I can’t take him anywhere; he’s like the naughtiest puppy, unredeemable and untrainable.
But by god, is he cute?
He’s kept to his word, too.
We have no lies between us, and our marriage feels genuinely like a partnership. Not in the bedroom. There, he regresses to being a caveman, overpowering and dominating in the sexiest ways. It’s a wonder a girl can walk some mornings from the sexual acrobats he puts me through.
Kian proves how unbothered he is by our surroundings when he whispers. “Maybe today is the day I rip out that little birth control device of yours and hold you down while I empty inside you over and over. Get my wife good and full of my come.”
His words are evocative and have the desired effect to unravel my thoughts and unbalance me. He’s still up to his old tricks, always getting under my skin.
My thighs ache, and my stomach burns with all the lust trying to burst out of my body.
It’s nothing he hasn’t told me before, usually when he’s so turned on and down to his baser self that all he wants to do is rut me on the floor.
Kian should be from another era.
He’s a real smooth talker who’s into many illegal interests, but at the end of the day, he’s a scoundrel who loves making his wife turn red.
He smirks when I smack his chest, and then he captures that hand and kisses my inner wrist.
“I will leave you at home the next time we’re sent an invitation. You can’t be trusted with social etiquette.”
The point is proven when his hand is copping a feel of my ass when Ethan strolls in holding an empty glass. He smirks when he sees us smashed together like two horny pillars. Of course, Kian doesn’t move away.
“Did I interrupt anything, kids?”
“Yes.” Kian growls impatiently.
“No,” I reply, and earn a pinch on the backside.
I’ve gotten to know Ethan this year for the man he’s grown into being and not just Kian’s sidekick, as I knew him to be in high school. They are alike in a lot of ways. Something Ethan’s girlfriend and I laugh about often when we get together for couples game night.
Yeah, we’re those people who have a game night. It’s so fun!
“Unless you want me to fund another lawyer’s Hampton holiday home, push off, Ethan.” Kian rudely says to his best friend. Ethan doesn’t take it personally and laughs as he heads for a bottle of wine. He refills the glass. It must be for his girl, because he wouldn’t drink a fruity red.
“We’re at a kid’s party, and there are actual bodyguards out there, my friend, who wouldn’t think twice about shooting your dick off if they heard strange noises coming from a closet.” Informs Ethan, smirking. “Oh, and I hear a clown is about to arrive. You don’t wanna miss getting your balloon animal.”
I giggle into Kian’s chest, and he rakes his fingers underneath my hair as Ethan escapes with Kian telling him to fuck off.
“This is the reason we should stay at home.”
“Why? So you can steal my panties and do debauched things?”
“So you can always be naked for me to do debauched things.” He amends and taps a light kiss on my lips. Then he straightens and takes my hand with a sigh. “Let’s see this fucking clown, and then we can go home.”
Only for my best friend and my love for her little boy would I ever venture into a party setting. But it turns out to be a great day. Endless cakes to eat and a dirty-talking husband who whispers the sauciest things in my ear every chance he gets.
Every second we’re together, and even when we’re not, he burns my soul to ash. I never knew love could be like this. This consuming. It’s a love that makes my heart soar.
I never fell in love with Kian in a slow way. It was an explosion that happened suddenly, like I’d waited a millennium of lifetimes to love someone as deeply as I love him.
Kian readily admits he’s obsessed with me. And my love for him is equally vital.
We’re unbreakable.
He changed all the rules for us.
That’s not something fate can ever part.
We’re not perfect. I’m still cranky and antisocial most of the time. My Kian is ever the troublemaker. And I love every glorious inch of my bad boy.
And when we’re separated into different conversations, Kian’s eyes are still on me. Still moving wherever I am, stalking me, claiming and owning me.
Just like old times.
* * *
Kian
Ten years later
With the last money transfer of the day sent to my Dubai contact, I sit back in the chair and run a hand over my tired face.
Summer has always been my busiest season for the import and export business. The heat brings out the greed in us all, I’m sure.
It also brings the beast out in me as I hear the familiar heels clacking along the hallway.
A lot has changed in the last decade.
I upgraded to several dozen warehouses. Scored myself a legit office front, so I could at least pretend to be a law-abiding entrepreneur who paid (most of) his taxes and dodged the law with a few close calls here and there. Once again, Ethan proved it was good to have that ruthless bastard on my side. I’m sure Detective Massa still holds a grudge for never being able to find any dirt on me before she moved to Chicago. There are plenty of shadier men there for her to chase.
And while my business endeavors have grown, something is always constant, and she’s now standing in the doorway.
My heart pumps excitedly as I watch her, and my dick twitches with interest.
My dick is always interested when Samia is near. Even when she’s not, all I have to do is think about her, and it’s instant hard-on.
Today, I’m especially interested because she’s wearing lemon, and she knows it’s a direct line to my arousal.
My wife has got it all figured out. Her hips sway sensually as she smiles, fluffing her hair and casually hooked her sunglasses onto her dress. They hang between her tits, bringing my eyes down to those beauties.
I always understood women grew more beautiful with age. My Samia is proof of that. She still has the dusting of freckles I’m feral for, the ones I like to kiss at night. And her body is lush as ever, so fucking lush that my mouth waters as she strides over to me. I push back my chair so she can move into the space and sit on my lap.
“I knew you’d still be working.”
“I just finished, and I was coming to get you.”
“Well, I came to get you.” She gifts me her smile. Her knees rub together as the skirt of the dress inches higher. I know what she’s up to, and she’s already won. I’m a done deal. She has me locked up so tight she might as well have tattooed her name all over my cock. I’m now, always have been, always will be one obsessed motherfucker where she’s concerned.
But she still enjoys seducing me, and I love when she does.
I edge a palm underneath the material and stroke up her smooth thigh.
“And now I’m all yours.”
“Yes,” she beams. “A long weekend alone at the Hamptons with my hubby, and no talk about business deals and villainy things whatsoever. Just sun, sea and sex.”
“Am I still a villain?” I ask, nuzzling her hammering pulse, giving it a nice little suck to make Samia moan and arch into me. I’m already at the apex of her thighs, nestling a knuckle through her panties to find her soaking wet before she answers.
“The day you’re not a villain is when I know we’ve fallen through the cracks of time and ended up in another dimension, Kian.”
Ah, she’s not wrong, my brilliant wife.
My partner in everything.
She’s talked me off many a vengeful ledge when I’ve wanted to bury some fool for trying to overturn my business. Samia might look sweet and innocent, but she’s cutthroat and wise, and I’m always in awe of her.
“As long as I’m your villain. Now give me that sweet mouth and pull up your skirt.”
“Kian.” She gasps, shocked, but her eyes can’t disguise the haze of desire in them or how she’s shallow breathing and working her pussy against my finger.
I’ve corrupted my wife in the dirtiest of ways.
Debauched her.
And brought her down to my filthy levels, and now she comes to the office on random days just to suck my dick and make me lose my mind by telling me she needs a fuck.
I would drop an anvil on the world if Samia needed it done.
And if she sashays into my working environment and lets me know she needs something from me, my wife gets priority attention. Every. Single. Time.
I pump my finger, slipping in a second so I can reach the hot button nestled inside her pussy wall to send her bucking in my lap.
“Don’t feign shock, wife. You wore my favorite color, you smell of arousal, and you gave me the sex eyes. Now pull up your fucking skirt and open your knees.”
She moans and drags at the material until she’s exposed to my eyes. Sheer perfection. Samia has a body I will worship for the rest of my life; still, in death, I will hunger for her.
Eternal obsession isn’t a throwaway sentiment.
It’s a religion.
A lifelong promise to always adore my wife.
Her mouth lands on me, and she tastes the need spiraling throughout my body while she wrestles down my zipper.
“Did you lock the door?”
“No.” she pants.
My bad girl. I smirk into her kiss, snaking my tongue around hers and giving it a long suck until her sexual moans vibrate into my throat.
“Anyone could walk in,” I warn, putting her in position to sit down on my dick. Not that I care about things like that.
Samia, who is forever stunning to me, looks completely beautiful any day. But happy Samia, high from orgasms, is hypnotic, my drug of choice.
“You don’t care about that,” she replies with an amused scoff. Her fingers drag through my hair, and the hot sensation rushes blood to where it’s already pumped up my erection in my wife’s greedy hands.
She’s right. Samia knows me too well. I’m sure every reprobate working for me has heard me bringing her to orgasm many times, but they’d never venture into the office after seeing her car parked outside.
It’s worth more than their lives to interrupt us when she’s here. Let the world burn around us, but my time is hers.
As I kiss her face while she groans and settles down on my shaft, trying to take too much all at once, like the greedy girl she is, I pause my lips over the little faint scar at her temple. My thoughts take me right back to her accident, how close I came to losing her, and the insane things I said and did to make her mine.
Still with no regrets.
Samia’s lost months of memories never returned, and she always tells me she doesn’t care about that because I made her better memories with my lies.
To this day, it’s the most romantic thing she’s ever said to me.
I fucking love my woman. To the last breath and beyond.
With my final exhale, I’ll say her name.
I think, even when I get to hell’s iron gates, I’ll lie my way out to find Samia repeatedly in each new life.
Born liars will lie.
And for men like me with only one honest obsession, a fast-thinking lie brought me paradise, and we’ve built a perfect life of memories ever since.