Epilogue
River
Six Months Later
The Aegean Sea stretches endlessly beyond our private balcony, the water shimmering beneath the late afternoon sun until it blends seamlessly into the sky.
Santorini is every bit as breathtaking as everyone promised.
Whitewashed buildings cascade down the cliffs, blue domes scattered across them, and salt on a warm breeze.
And none of it can hold my attention for more than a few seconds because of the woman sitting a few feet away from me.
This is the last stop on our month-long honeymoon around the Mediterranean. Neither of us wanted to rush it. After everything we survived, we wanted time where the biggest decision of the day was which restaurant overlooking the water we felt like walking to.
We’d talked briefly about having another wedding when we got home.
Something more traditional than the rushed ceremony Royal performed inside the tattoo shop.
But somewhere between Italy and Croatia, we both realized the people who mattered had already been there.
Raiden and Elodie, Roman, and Royal. Our closest friends had witnessed us promise our lives to each other, even if neither of us fully understood what those promises meant at the time.
I wouldn’t change that day now. Not for anything.
The only people still missing are my family.
My parents and three siblings. They’re flying in this afternoon to spend the final week of our trip with us, and if there’s one thing capable of making my fearless wife nervous, it’s meeting the people who raised me.
She insists she isn’t worried. She’s a terrible liar.
I glance through the open balcony doors where Nadia sits curled into one of the lounge chairs with a paperback balanced on her knees. She’s wearing a flowing sundress that dances in the breeze, sunglasses perched on top of her head after she’d finally given up trying to keep them on.
Every few minutes, she absently twists the simple gold wedding band. Watching her has become my favorite hobby. She senses my stare without looking up.
“You’re doing it again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She turns a page in her book. “You’re staring.”
“I observe.”
“You’ve been using that one for months.” She still doesn’t look up, but her mouth is fighting not to smile.
“It still works.”
She finally lowers the book and looks over at me, sunlight catching the warmth in her eyes. I don’t know how I ever convinced myself there would be a version of my life that didn’t have her in it.
“What?” she asks.
“You’re breathtaking.”
She marks her page before closing the book completely. “And you’re dashing.”
I grin at her wolfishly. My cock hardens as I stalk her with every step. “Flattery will get you everywhere, angel,” I say before scooping her into my arms.
She lets out a surprised laugh. “River.”
“What? I need to fuck my wife,” I growl, nipping her earlobe before sucking on it.
Nadia wraps her arms around my neck, her laugh dissolving into a soft moan. “We can’t. I have to shower and change before your family arrives.”
I kiss, nip, and lick the curve of her neck as I carry her inside. “It’ll be quicker if we shower together.”
Her laughter fills the suite as I carry her toward the bathroom.
The room is absurd. It’s bigger than my first apartment—a slab of veined white marble running the length of one wall with twin basins sunk into it, a mirror above it wide enough to hold both of us and half the room besides.
And a walk-in shower with a bare bench along the back and a rainfall head set into the ceiling.
Nadia laughed the first night she saw it. I’ve been thinking about that counter for four days. I kick the bathroom door shut behind us and have her against it before her laughter fades, my mouth crashing down on hers with a hunger that has nothing to do with patience.
She gasps into the kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, deeper, like she can’t get enough. Like she’ll never get enough.
“Undress me,” I growl against her lips, pulling back just enough to give the order. My voice is rough, commanding, and I watch her eyes darken in response. She loves this. Loves when I take control.
Her hands go to my shirt, fumbling with the buttons in her haste. I let her struggle for exactly three seconds before I lose all patience and tear it open. Buttons scatter across the marble floor, pinging off the walls.
She makes a sound, half-laugh, half-whimper, and I silence her with another kiss, deep and devouring, my tongue claiming her mouth the way I’m about to claim the rest of her.
“Keep going,” I demand when we break apart, my breath coming hard.
She pushes the shirt off my shoulders, her palms sliding over my chest and stomach, and I watch her face as she touches me. The way her lower lip catches between her teeth. The way her gaze drops to the obvious bulge straining against my shorts. My cock jerks under her attention, desperate for her.
I grab the folded bath sheet from the towel bar and drop it at her feet. “On your knees.” My voice drops into that register I know does things to her. The register that makes her obey without question, that turns her pliant and needy. “I want to feel that pretty mouth before I fuck you properly.”
She sinks slowly, deliberately, her hands hooking in my waistband and dragging my shorts down with her. My cock springs free, already hard and aching, thick and heavy against my stomach. She looks up at me through her lashes with an expression that makes me want to ruin her completely.
“Open,” I command.
She obeys, tongue darting out to wet her lips, and I guide myself between them with a groan that echoes off the marble. The heat of her mouth, the wet suction as she takes me deeper, takes every ounce of control I possess not to thrust into her throat immediately.
I grip her hair instead, fisting it tight, holding her in place while I watch my cock disappear between her swollen lips.
“That’s it,” I murmur, my voice rough with restraint. “Take it all. Show me how much you want Daddy’s cock.”
She moans around me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine, and I feel her hands grip my thighs for balance, for anchor.
I start to move, slow at first, giving her time to adjust to my size, then faster as she relaxes into it.
I feel her throat open for me, her eyes watering slightly, as she takes me even deeper.
“Fuck, Nadia.” I tighten my grip in her hair, tilting her head back so I can see her face. See her lips stretched around me, her cheeks hollowed with suction. “You look so good like this. On your knees for me. Taking what I give you. Who does this cock belong to?”
She tries to answer, the vibration of her attempted words making me groan, but I don’t need to hear it. I know. I feel it in the way she submits, the way she gives herself over to my pleasure.
“Touch yourself,” I order, my voice cracking slightly with the effort of holding back. “I want you dripping by the time I’m done with your mouth. I want you so wet you can’t think straight.”
Her hand slides between her legs, and I feel her moan vibrate through my entire body as she starts to rub her clit in tight circles, her hips shifting, seeking more.
The sight of her, pleasuring herself while she pleasures me, is almost enough to make me come right there. To spill down her throat and watch her swallow every drop. But I want more. I want everything.
I pull back abruptly, my cock leaving her mouth with a wet, obscene sound that makes us both groan. She’s panting, her lips swollen and red, her eyes glazed with need.
I help her to her feet. My hands go to her sundress, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her in nothing but a thin lace bra and panties. I snap the bra open with practiced ease and peel it off, then hook my fingers in her panties and drag them down her legs.
“Step out, angel.”
She does, and I rise slowly, letting my hands trail up her calves, her thighs, feeling her tremble beneath my touch. When I stand fully, I grip her chin and make her look at me, her eyes dark and dazed and completely mine.
Then I reach into the shower and turn it on. She frowns at me, confused.
“Steam,” I tell her. “Trust me.”
She nods.
“Turn around,” I say softly, dangerously. “Hands on the sink. I want you to watch while I take you. I want you to see what you do to me.”
She obeys, turning to face the mirror, and I watch her reflection as she places her palms flat on the cool surface. Her eyes find mine in the glass, wide and hungry. I move behind her, my big body dwarfing hers, my cock still wet from her mouth, jutting out hard and thick against her lower back.
“Look at us,” I murmur, my hands settling on her hips with a possessiveness that makes her shiver. “Look at what you do to me. Look at how fucking beautiful you are.”
I bend and press my mouth to her shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and she arches back into me with a whimper that sounds desperate even to my ears.
My hands slide up her ribs, slow and deliberate, until they cup her breasts, weighing them in my palms, my thumbs brushing over her nipples until they tighten into aching peaks.
“These are mine,” I say against her skin, my breath hot. “Say it.”
“Yours,” she breathes, and I watch in the mirror while I roll them slowly between my fingers, drawing it out until her head falls back against my shoulder.
I can feel her trembling, can feel her pushing back against me, seeking more, always more.
“Daddy,” she breathes, and the word feels right, feels like claiming, feels like everything I’ve ever wanted to be for her. “Please, Daddy, I need you.”
“Not yet.” One hand leaves her breast and slides down her stomach, slow, torturous, until my fingers find her center. “You’re so fucking wet. Is this all for me? Did sucking my cock make you this desperate?”
“Yes. You always do.”