Epilogue
EPILOGUE
CLOVER
SIX MONTHS LATER
Since we’d met, almost every outfit Damien had ever worn was a uniform of one kind or another—the military clothes, the hospital clothes, the endless suits provided to him at the Kremlin. In fact, the first time I’d ever seen him in something that wasn’t a uniform was when Kate gave him Kellen’s black trousers and white shirt to wear back in Wexford. I still remembered the way I’d sobbed when I came downstairs and found him waiting for me—smiling, clean-shaven, and wearing those clothes. It was the handsomest he’d ever looked.
Until today.
Because today, he was wearing black trousers, a white shirt, and my ring on his finger.
Sliding a simple gold band on top of the engagement ring he’d given me the night of his resignation, Damien recited his vows as an audience of seagulls circled overhead and a curious crab wandered dangerously close to our bare feet.
The outfits had been my vision—Damien’s simple shirt and trousers and my white lace gown with a handful of bluebells and baby’s breath woven into my hair—but being barefoot had been his idea. He told me I’d find out why after the ceremony.
“So, by the power vested in me by … no one”—Paul grinned as he glanced from Damien to me, then back down at his notes—“I now pronounce you … husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Jack howled, and Kate sniffled, and all three of them clapped as Damien held my gaze, wrapped a hand around the back of my neck with a smirk that made my insides tingle, and kissed me in a way that would have gotten us excommunicated from any church in Ireland.
Which was why I was so happy we’d decided to have our ceremony on the Eye instead.
And even happier that the rain had held off.
The sky was smothered in clouds as thick as the frosting on one of Kate’s cakes, but when I tipped my head back and let the wind catch my hair, the only thing I felt was a single drop of water, right on the tip of my nose.
Followed by Damien’s tongue as he licked it off.
“You know your mother is watchin’, right?” I laughed, but the sentiment made both of our smiles fade a little.
We were orphans now. Both of us. Kate and Jack were all we had left.
Turning toward them, I finally allowed myself to look at the coastline of Howth, and what I saw took my breath away. The lighthouse was in the process of being rebuilt, using as many of the original granite blocks as they could find at the bottom of the harbor. The fishing boats, turned tour boats for the summer, waved to us as they looped around the island—waiting for the ceremony to be over before they docked with their tourists. And there, on the top of the cliff, in the spot where I used to sit and stare at the spot where I was standing now, was a white stucco house with a lemon-yellow door.
Only now, it had a second story.
And a balcony.
Damien was ready with open arms when I spun and launched myself at him, lifting me off the grassy island and wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Welcome home.” He grinned a millisecond before my mouth crashed against his.
“Thank you,” I sobbed, peppering his eyes, his nose, his clean-shaven cheeks with kisses. “When did you? How did you …”
“Jack needed somethin’ to do while she was on the mend, so I gave her a little project. Two actually.”
“Two?” My heart fluttered as I stared into his sparkling silver eyes, alight with mischief of the very best kind.
Damien nodded slowly, holding my gaze with a smirk that would have made my knees weak if I were still standing. “Got the house in Glenshire too.”
Glenshire.
My heart simply couldn’t hold all of the love and gratitude I felt for this man. This soul . It spilled from my eyes as I kissed him again, radiated from my hands as I clutched his face. It coursed through the very marrow of my bones, lighting me up, making me glow.
“Jack’s been a little busy.”
I turned to find Jack leaning on her cane, trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably, thanks to the massive prideful grin on her face.
“ You did this?” My gaze darted over to the two-story stunner on the cliff again. “And …” A lump formed in my throat. “And Glenshire?”
“I know some former military lads in the construction business.” She shrugged. “Kate decorated, so I apologize in advance for the inside, but the outside’s class, right?”
Kate elbowed her wife, who grimaced dramatically and clutched her ribs.
“I can’t take credit for any of it, but if ya need a butler, let me know.” Paul chuckled, clapping a hand on Damien’s shoulder.
Reaching into his pocket, Damien tossed a set of keys to Jack. “Why don’t ya give Paul a tour? We’ll meet ya there after I show Clo her other wedding gift.”
“You got it, boss,” Jack said, tossing her wife a quick wink. There was no mistaking the blush on Kate’s face as she returned the look with a knowing smirk.
Then, the three of them navigated the rocky shore to the tour boat that was waiting to take them back.
Once Damien set me down on my bare feet and I finally mustered the strength to tear my eyes away from the house on the cliff, I froze mid-step when I glanced over at the beautiful, natural wood–finish speedboat he’d rented.
Because there next to it, staring at me with deep brown eyes, was a single gray seal.
Grabbing Damien’s arm, I forced him to stop, and the two of us stood in silence for what felt like minutes.
The seal didn’t wink at me. It didn’t raise its flipper and wave. But something in it acknowledged something in me, and that felt like enough.
It was enough.
Closing my eyes, I smiled up at the sky.
And felt a drop of rain kiss my cheek.
“Don’t look.”
“I know where you’re taking me.”
“Well, ya still can’t look.”
Hiking my wedding dress up to my knees, I kept my eyes closed as Damien guided me along a narrow ridge through freezing cold ankle-deep water.
Once the ceiling opened up and the familiar crunch of pebbles under our bare feet echoed off the stone walls, Damien wrapped his arm around me and said, “Okay, look.”
When I opened my eyes, my body hummed with a sensation I hadn’t felt in over a year, one of the most basic human pleasures that I’d nearly forgotten, but that Damien had returned to me tenfold. The feeling of coming home.
Stone walls that my hands knew by touch alone, massive boulders that had been my make-believe furniture, a pebbled beach that, for a few moments every morning, reflected the rising sun like a disco ball … and at the far end, facing the sea and surrounded by candles and rose petals, a gorgeous wooden writing desk … and a matching four-poster bed.
“Damien …” My eyes filled with fresh tears as I glanced up at his sweet smile. “What is all this?”
He shrugged innocently, but there was a wicked gleam in his gray eyes. “My plan was to make you a writing cave, but … when I thought about bringing you here”—he turned to face me, placing his hands on my waist—“and I remembered waking up over there”—he pointed at a spot on the beach behind him—“with you on my chest”—Damien pulled my body toward his until the white lace of my wedding dress was pressed against the black tie of his suit—“and I thought about that kiss, up against the wall, over there”—Damien dipped his head and paused, his lips a breath away from mine—“I decided your writing cave needed to double as a sex dungeon.”
A laugh burst out of me but was quickly silenced by Damien’s talented mouth. His lips molded to mine, and as his tongue slipped inside, swirling and caressing and dizzying me with need, I was instantly transported back to that night. When I’d finally given in to the undeniable connection I felt. When I’d first tasted forever and recognized its sweetness. When I’d been so crippled with fear that I ruined the moment and spent the night curled up in a ball in his arms.
But I wasn’t afraid anymore. For the first time since our souls had collided all those years ago, we were finally safe. Truly free. And ready for a fucking do-over.
Pearls and buttons scattered across the pebbled beach as Damien and I tore the wedding clothes from one another’s body, giving in to the insatiable desire we’d tried so hard to deny the last time we were there.
My teeth scraped over Damien’s chiseled jaw as I jerked open his belt buckle and unzipped his trousers.
His rough hands palmed my breasts and rubbed my nipples as I stepped out of my wedding gown and kicked it to the side of the cave.
Damien’s wolfish smile made my knickers dampen as he gazed down the length of my body. Then, his eyes darkened as his finger hooked into the garter around my left thigh. A phantom memory of a faded dream flashed in my mind—an open tourniquet, gushing blood—but then it was gone, replaced with the ecstasy of Damien’s fingertips sliding along the damp satin between my legs.
Clutching his jaw, I pulled his face to mine and kissed him impatiently while he slid his boxers down one-handed. Then, I smiled around his tongue as his warm, rigid length pressed against my belly.
Gliding my hand down his chest, I let my fingertips swirl over the star-shaped scar where his bullet wound had been. Then, I dipped my head and traced it with my tongue. If Damien hadn’t been shot, I wouldn’t have needed to take care of him, and we might never have reconnected. Some of the most painful experiences of our lives had led to the happiest, and I hoped, as I took him in my hands and traced the length of him with my tongue, that all of the pain was finally behind us now.
That we could stop trying to keep each other alive.
And start trying to make each other come.
The thought made me giggle, and Damien slid a finger under my chin, encouraging me to look up at him.
“Fuck, angel. The sight of you smilin’ with my cock in your mouth is the best wedding gift you could ever give me.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as I dropped my eyes.
“Don’t do that. Look at me, darlin’. I wanna see you.”
Emboldened by his words, I held Damien’s stormy stare as I gripped the thick base of his cock and took him as deep in my throat as I possibly could. He cursed and gripped my hair as I sucked my way back up, licking a bead of pre-cum from his swollen crown, but he never once took his eyes off mine.
I had Damien’s full attention. Always. And the warmth I felt from even his steeliest stares made me bloom like the rays of the sun. Grow. Evolve. I could do anything when he looked at me like that. But mostly, I just wanted to make him smile.
“Fuck.” Pulling me up by my hair, Damien slammed his mouth against mine a second before slamming my back against the closest cave wall. He lifted my garter-adorned thigh over his hip and ground his wet cock against my slippery flesh.
“I need you,” he panted, breaking our kiss to watch our scarred bodies slide against one another.
Clutching his jaw, I lifted his face to mine. “Then, take me.” I smirked.
And he did.
Dragging his length over my throbbing clit, Damien slipped his tongue into my mouth at the same moment that he thrust the head of his cock into my equally needy body.
And I instantly tensed around him.
“Shh …” he whispered, retreating and thrusting again, a few centimeters at a time. “Relax, darlin’. Let me in.”
Reaching between us, Damien rubbed my clit with his thumb as he filled me, surging deeper and deeper with every attempt.
“That’s my girl,” he rasped, dropping his forehead to mine as he watched me stretch and struggle to take him all. “That’s my fuckin’ angel. Look at you.”
Damien lifted his eyes to mine as my hips began to roll in concert with his expert thumb.
“That feel good, baby?”
He licked his lips, and I leaned forward, needing to taste them as well.
Damien granted my wish, kissing me deeply and working my clit until I finally relaxed enough to let him all the way in. Removing his hand, Damien thrust into me fully, and the moment his pelvis pressed against my clit, my pussy contracted around him in pleasure.
“Fuck,” Damien hissed, capturing my lip between his teeth.
“What do you want to do, Mrs. Hughes?” he asked, withdrawing and filling me again in one slow, hard thrust. “Because if I have my way, I’m gonna keep fucking you right here against this wall.”
“Promise?” I whispered, digging my heel into his firm arse until he ground against me again. It was everything I’d been craving since the last time we were there, another dream that Damien had made come true without me even having to ask.
“God, you’re perfect.” He smiled before diving for my lips again, and that one fleeting grin was nearly enough to make me come all by itself.
Harder and faster, Damien pounded into me, stone digging into my back as my nails dug into his. Teeth sank into throats. Fingers sank into hair. We weren’t afraid to add a few new scars to our battle-worn bodies because we knew that once we used them up, we would just get new ones and do it all over again.
I reveled in the sound of his body pounding against mine as it echoed throughout the cave, as his moans turned to growls and reverberated through my chest.
Lifting my other leg, Damien held me up by the back of my thighs, and with my hips tilted slightly, he was able to fill me even deeper than before.
A desperate whimper punctuated my every panting breath as I reached between us and rubbed my clit.
“That’s my girl,” Damien rasped, swelling inside of me. “You ready, baby?” He kissed me, thrusting faster. “You ready to come for me?”
“Mmhmm,” I moaned, nodding against his forehead as he drove into me harder. Pushed my body to the brink of something magical.
“That’s it,” he hissed as I whimpered, squeezing him tighter. “Fuck, I can feel you. Let go, angel. Let go. I got ya.”
Damien’s words were my undoing. Gripping his shoulders, I buried my face in his corded neck as the outside world shattered and fell to his feet. There was only darkness, and the weightlessness of being held in Damien’s arms, and a pulsing, euphoric, all-consuming rush of heat as he stilled inside of me and came on a strangled cry.
Without putting me down, Damien walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, filling me fully as I settled onto his lap.
A soft moan left my lips as I gazed into eyes the same color as my favorite place in the entire world.
Glancing over Damien’s shoulder at the desk, I noticed a familiar black bag sitting in the chair, and a smile spread across my face.
“My backpack!” I cried. “Damien! Oh my God, are my books still in there?”
He nodded. “Your books, your photos, a few cheap cigars.”
“My books.” I laughed and shook my head, that sentence taking on a whole new meaning. “I still can’t believe I wrote those.”
“I can.” Damien said, his voice suddenly serious. “You can do anything, Clover. Literally anything.”
Gazing back at his sweet face, I ran my hands through his hair and considered our future. “What are you going to do?” I asked. “I could turn the shed into a woodshop for you.”
Damien shook his head. “I think … I might try for a position on the County Council.”
“What?” I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice. “You don’t even like politics.”
“I don’t, but … I want to fix this place … for you. I want to make things right.”
I beamed. “Then, you will.”
“You know”—Damien smirked, obviously ready to change the subject as his cock swelled inside of me—“I was thinking about your books.”
“Oh, really?” I purred, rolling my hips as he ground them down onto him with his rough hands.
“Mmhmm. Should I be offended that you thought I was a fairy when you first met me?”
I laughed. “ That’s what you want to know?”
He nodded, sliding that talented tongue across his smirking bottom lip as he worked my hips a little faster.
“You obviously don’t read a lot of romance.” I moaned, closing my eyes as he thrust into me from underneath.
“Fairies are the sexiest of all the mythological creatures,” I panted. “They’re strong and beautiful and fierce and magical.”
“Like you,” he said, kissing his way from my collarbone up to my jaw.
“Like you,” I echoed, threading my fingers into his shiny black hair.
And that was when I realized, as Damien and I chased our bliss without a care in the world, that I’d finally done it.
I’d found my way to the otherworld.
Thank you so, so much for reading The Devil Himself !