Epilogue
Paris in spring is everything the postcards promise and more. The chestnut trees are blooming along the Seine; the sunlight glints off the Eiffel Tower as if it’s showing off just for us, and the air is sweet with rain-washed stone and fresh croissants.
We’ve been married three weeks. Gideon and Zephyr finally fessed up that Gideon joining the show was part of a secret plan they concocted to get Creed to make a commitment to me.
Once on the set, he realized it wasn’t necessary or even possible to make Creed crazier in love with me than he already was, but he had no regrets.
It was one of the nicest, albeit weirdest, things anyone has ever done for us.
Creed still looks at me like I’m the only thing keeping him steady in a storm.
Today, though, I’m the one calling the shots.
We start at a tiny cafe in Le Marais where the croissants are so flaky they shatter when you bite into them. Creed’s possessive hand has been on my thigh under the table the whole time. He’s in a dark button-down rolled to the elbows, showing off the corded muscles I love to trace with my tongue.
I’m wearing a simple red sundress with no panties to give him easy access. When I told him this morning, I thought he’d faint.
“Keep looking at me like that, wife,” he murmurs over his coffee, “and we’re not making it past breakfast.”
I lean in, brushing my lips against his ear. “Promises, promises,” I tease, just as the server returns to our table.
After my handsome husband pays the check, we wander the city hand in hand, then arm around waist, then his fingers lace through mine as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
We get caught up in each other again and kiss, standing in a charming square, ignoring the tourists snapping photos around us.
He growls against my mouth when a street musician starts playing something romantic on an accordion.
“French,” he mutters. “They’re all in on it.”
I laugh and pull him toward the Seine where we buy crepes from a cart: Nutella and banana for me, ham and cheese for him, and eat them sitting on the stone wall with our legs dangling over the water. He feeds me a bite of his and I lick a bit of gooey cheese from his thumb.
“You keep that up, we’re skipping the rest of the day.”
I lean forward, whispering, “What makes you believe we’re required to see every sight?
” When I tilt my head to kiss him, he deepens it, with one hand cupping my jaw like I’m precious, the other sliding to my lower back to pull me flush against his rock-hard body.
I grind into him, just enough to make him groan into my mouth.
“Jesus, Lys,” he rasps when we break apart. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Not yet,” I say, smiling against his lips.
We end the day at a rooftop bar in our hotel and have oysters and too much champagne, as we watch the city below us glitter in a pink and gold sunset.
By the time we pay the check, I’m buzzing with wine, and the way he loves me. He’s tipsy too. His eyelids are heavy with lust, and his cheeks are flushed.
I set my glass down and stand. “Time to go,” I say, taking his hand.
Creed raises a brow. “Bossy tonight.”
I lean down and kiss him quick and filthy, casually sliding my hand down into his lap to palm him through his jeans. “I’m the boss now, husband,” I whisper. “And I want you upstairs. Naked. In me. Right now.”
His pupils blow wide. He stands so fast the chair scrapes. We barely make the elevator. When the doors close, I push him against the wall and kiss his throat, grazing his throbbing pulse with my teeth.
He groans, gripping my hips, bunching my dress up to my thighs. “Fuck, Lys—” I kiss him harder, stroking the thick erection, making him buck into my hand.
The elevator dings, and the doors open on our floor. He grabs my hand and I drag him down the hall, half-running, laughing, drunk on him. While he fumbles with the keycard; I press against his back, and slide my hand around to cup him again.
“Open the door, mountain man,” I purr. “Or I’ll take you right here.”
He growls, shoves the door open, and we stumble inside. Our clothes hit the floor in seconds. He carries me to the bed, drops me onto the crisp sheets, and follows me down.
I roll us so I’m on top straddling him, grinding slow against his length. He’s thick and hard beneath me, with his hands gripping my thighs.
“Boss now, huh?” he rasps, eyes blazing. I smile wickedly, reach between us, and guide him to my entrance, before sinking down on his cock slowly, feeling the exquisite stretch of him filling me.
“God, yes,” I groan, riding him hard. All of my insecurities vaporize as I bounce up and down on him with my breasts swaying. His fingers circle and pinch my nipples until I’m gasping. Then he slips a hand between us, and zeroes in on my clit. “Oh God, just like that.”
“Come for me, wife,” he husks, barely keeping it together. “Let me feel you.” I shatter on the spot, clenching tight around him until he flips us and thrusts deep, and hard, relentlessly. “Mine,” he rasps with every stroke. “My wife. My forever.”
“Always, my love. Always.”
He comes with a guttural groan, spilling his hot seed inside me with his body jerking and shuddering until we collapse together in a sweat, tangled in the sheets, gasping for breath with me draped across his chest.
“Bossy looks good on you,” he murmurs, stroking lazy circles on my back. I beam against his skin and straighten so I can look into his eyes.
“It’s all you, Creed. You make me so happy, you better get used to it, Mountain Man, because I’m all yours.”
He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.”
We both stare at each other, brimming with happiness, as the city hums faintly beyond the windows. His warm hand drifts to my stomach.
“Think we made a baby tonight?” I whisper, tracing the ring on his finger.
He tightens his arms around me and kisses my temple. “If not tonight, soon.”
“We have a little time, but I’m thirty-five so the clock is ticking.”
“Oh, what a shame,” he teases with a kiss. “We might be forced to do another round of baby-making tonight.”
I look up at the blue-eyed stare I adore. “Say when.”
“When.” He laughs, scooping me in his arms and laying me down on the bed. “When, when, when,” he covers me with kisses, and we make love until dawn.
Thank you so much for reading Taken by the Jealous Mountain Man.