Epilogue
Shai
Ten years later
My eyes flutter open to see Rory staring at me. Ten years later, and I still love how consumed he is by me, love that even when we’re apart, sometimes I’ll feel him there and know he’s following me, watching me, loving me.
“You’re a weirdo,” I tease him.
“Your weirdo,” he replies. “I’m bored.”
“It’s ten o’clock in the morning.” We had a late night—me, Rory, Cil, Dean, and Tiernan having family business to take care of.
No one died on our side, which I always consider a win.
Rory and I still get off on the violence, but we’re as safe as we can be about it, have learned to stay in control and make better decisions.
When Rory teeters on the edge, I’m always there to bring him home again, to me, because I am his home.
“I’m hungry,” he counters.
“For cock or food?” I tease, making him grin.
“Always for both. Food first, cock later. We have plans today, remember?”
Yes, we fucking do. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“Obviously. Let’s go eat.” He climbs naked out of our bed and walks toward the bathroom.
Our house is obscenely large, just like everything with them, but this one is ours and I love it.
It’s in a wooded area outside Boston, with Cillian and Ollie on the same property.
Dean and Tiernan live close by, but since they’re not quite as co-dependent as the rest of us and like their space, they kept a couple of miles between us.
Ollie, though young, is a highly sought-after defense attorney, who we happen to have on retainer.
He and Cillian got married four years ago, and while things aren’t always perfect—it can’t be easy, the lawyer and the mobster—they love each other more than ever and have weathered any obstacle life’s thrown in their path.
Dean and Tiernan also got married, but unlike the huge event that was Cil and Ollie’s wedding, they disappeared together and came back with rings on their fingers and Dean’s last name changed.
He was always meant to be an O’Shea, the two of them destined to be in each other’s lives since they were young—the boy who drew and his favorite muse.
Rory and I aren’t sure if marriage is for us, but that doesn’t change our devotion to each other.
Without bothering to get dressed, we go downstairs for breakfast.
“Cereal?” Rory asks.
“Real food. Sit. I’ll cook for you.” I put on an apron—we both have a habit of doing a lot of things naked, and I’d rather not burn my dick off.
“I get to watch you. My favorite thing.” Rory takes a seat at the bar while I make ham-and-cheese omelets.
“What’s our week look like?” I ask.
“Tomorrow night we’re down at the docks. We have that shipment of guns coming in. Next weekend, T needs us to fly down to Mexico and handle some business there. Cil will be gone. He and Ollie leave for one of their theme-park adventures.”
Ollie loves roller coasters, and Cillian had promised to take him to every theme park in the world. He’s been slowly fulfilling that dream for Ollie. There will never be a promise Cil breaks. Rory and I have gone to a few with them. It’s not our thing, but we’d all do anything to make Ollie happy.
“I teach a class tomorrow morning,” I say.
I did, in fact, get my GED and then my bachelor of arts in music, and now I teach private lessons. Murder and mayhem by night, music by day.
“Kat and Fia have that fucking gala,” he reminds me.
Shit. We have a lot going on.
My mom got her life together after the incident with Jagger.
She hasn’t had a drug or a drop of alcohol since.
Fia took her under her wing, gave her a secretary job at a charity organization she started.
Fia is forever trying to put good into the world—I think to counter the bad our family does—and now my mom does the same.
She specifically works with teenage moms, trying to help them get on their feet.
We eat breakfast together. Rory heads upstairs before me, cleaning himself, then prepping for our plans. It’s been a few months since we played our hunting game, and it’s something we both still need.
I clean up the kitchen, then go find him.
“I’m stretched and lubed,” he tells me.
“Good boy.” I grin.
“Hurry and get dressed. I’m ready.” He bounces, smiling widely, his eyes big and eager.
God, I love him, more than anything in this fucking world.
“Go. I’ll be right behind you.” This is one of the reasons we live where we do. We have the expanse of our property to play our games, and the only risk we run is being seen by Ollie and Cil.
“Bring a knife,” he says.
“Oh, you’re in a mood today, aren’t you?”
“Always.” He grabs me and kisses me. “Don’t make me wait.” Rory walks away, wearing loose-fitting pants I can easily get off him.
I do hurry. Who wouldn’t when Rory’s waiting for them?
I get dressed, heart already racing, my skin prickling with anticipation the way everything about Rory makes me. I grab the knife we use when he’s in a particular mood—not that I would ever cut him with it, but it does make the game more exciting.
When I get out back, slipping into the wooded area behind the house, I swear I can smell him—amber and vanilla and all mine.
“You’re close, I know it,” I say, not loudly, knowing that wherever he is, he can hear me.
Leaves and twigs crunch beneath my feet as I move, stalking him in our sex game, the way he often does with me in real life.
“I’m going to find you and fuck you. Hold my knife to your pretty little throat while you give me what’s mine. ”
He moans, my words clearly doing their job, turning him on.
“So fucking easy,” I say, catching a glimpse of him before Rory starts to run and I chase.
It doesn’t take me long to catch him, to press him against a tree, my horny little cherry already pushing his ass out like he’s dying for it.
“You can at least pretend you don’t want it,” I tease.
“That’s not the game. We both know I want it. I just like the chase.”
I rip his shirt off, then run the knife down his spine, watching Rory tremble.
“Fuck me,” he begs.
“You’re not even naked yet.”
“Then get me naked, motherfucker,” he says, and I laugh.
I tug my pants down, cut his off him, drop the knife, press his chest against the tree, and shove into him in one quick thrust. “Fucking perfect.” I will never get tired of this, never not need him even more than I need to breathe. There is no breath without Rory. No heartbeat, no life.
I fuck him hard and fast, jerking him off while I take what he so willingly gives me. As soon as he cries out my name, his ass tightening around my cock, his slick release covering my fingers, I lose myself to the pleasure of his body, filling him, breeding him, marking what’s mine.
“God, that’s still so fucking good,” he says breathlessly, and I love that we haven’t lost this, that we’ll never lose who we are.
I pull out, turn him around, lick his cum from my fingers, then kiss him. We share his load before I press my lips to my name on his chest. He shoves my shirt up and does the same to his name on me.
“You’re mine,” he says.
“I am. There’s nowhere I wouldn’t follow you, Rory Fitzpatrick.”
“Dangerous choice,” he teases.
“But one I will always make.” I kiss him again. “Come on. Let me take care of you.”
I pull up my pants, pick his up from the ground, along with our knife, and walk him naked back to the house. We shower together, something we do basically every day if we can, and I clean him, spoil him, show him how fucking loved he is. I’ll make sure he always knows how loved he is.
When we’re dressed again and ready for the day, we head next door. Ollie grins when he opens the door.
“Hey, Ol.” I kiss his cheek.
“Hey, Bunny.” Rory does the same, and we slip inside.
“Cillian is almost ready,” he says, just as his husband walks down the stairs.
Cillian hugs me, then Rory, the four of us chatting as we head out to their car.
“How’s your hand?” I ask Cillian.
“Because of course he can’t stop himself from punching people,” Ollie complains.
“It wasn’t my fault, Kitten. It was Rory’s.”
“What the fuck did I do?” Rory asks, the four of us playfully arguing on the drive over to Aislin’s. She and Zuri live on the same street as Fia in Boston. Zuri just started as an ER doctor in the city, so they wanted to be close to the hospital. Aislin does a lot of work for her mom’s nonprofit.
Dean and T are already there when we arrive.
Aislin is good about planning times for the eight of us to get together, just us, this family we have formed and fed over the years.
We’re close to the others too, of course, we’re all a family, but it’s different with the eight of us.
It always has been, and it always will be.
We spend the day together, laughing, cooking, eating. It’s still amazing to me sometimes that this is my life.
It’s late when we ride back home with Cil and Ollie, saying our goodbyes in their driveway. We still have the occasional foursome, growing that bond and solidifying the connection between us. Rory will always be my heart and soul, though. The man I am in love with, the one I can’t live without.
“Have a good night,” Cillian says.
“Love you, guys,” Ollie adds.
“We love you too,” Rory tells him before taking my hand, the two of us walking in the dark back to our house.
We climb into bed naked, Rory fucking me tonight—which he does from time to time, but he still prefers to bottom.
I lie on top of him afterward, forehead pressed to his. “Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“Being mine.”
“You’re my obsession.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “My world. My anchor. I should be the one thanking you.”
“We can thank each other.” I kiss him, my sweet, sweet obsession.