Epilogue
“Fuck, Annie,” Wick groans. His head drops backward onto the mattress as his thighs tense. I circle the head of his shaft with my tongue and flick over that spot under the tip that makes his calves shake.
“Marry me,” he mutters.
I chuckle, and it makes his grip on my hair tighten while he forces my mouth lower onto his cock.
“You think that’s funny, mate?” he asks, his tone full of sharp reproach.
I relax my neck and let him use my mouth.
My mate enjoys it, and, with his guard down and his instincts in control, it’s a thing of beauty.
After I suck hard again, he growls and flips us on the luxurious bed in our city condo. He settles himself on top of me and between my legs.
Wick traps me on the soft surface, and I hook my knees over his waist. My heels dig into his ass to encourage him to hurry up and sink into me.
He smirks. “Did you want something, gorgeous?”
“Oh, fuck you, Wick.”
“Not unless you ask.”
Cackling, I twist and make for an escape. “Eh, I’ll go find someone who wants me enough to not make me beg for it.”
A big hand plants over my shoulder and traps me before I can escape.
“Get your legs around me now, or I’m fucking you in whatever position I like... and it will be whatever makes you the most submissive to me.”
The thought of him forcing my ass up, my face in the bed, and sucking in air through the special mattress he bought primarily for that position makes the mate bite on my neck pulse.
It shoots a shock of pleasure straight to my pussy.
But the stylist spent a lot of time straightening my hair this morning, and it’ll already be disheveled enough.
Parsens is announcing my partnership at the end of the day, and I want to look nice for Wick.
Not for the rest; never the rest.
Wick did insist I take the morning off for a spa day. My nails are neatly painted in a sharp french tip, my skin is so soft it should be illegal, and the new wrap dress he bought me is in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Vi and Brynn are meeting us for dinner later, and our lunch grows cold several rooms away.
This man even moved his investment in my employer into a blind trust to avoid grumbling about the unanimous approval of my promotion. That he’d cede control of such a major investment for me is still on my top ten list of aphrodisiacs.
So, I do as he asks and wrap my legs around him. He surges into me so forcefully, it makes me gasp.
No amount of acclimation adjusts to this man.
He doesn’t have the chance to withdraw before an electronic trill fills the air.
On the nightstand, my cell phone buzzes to life.
The Caller ID reads, “Cheating Ex.”
Damn it, Violet! Of all the times her selective use of my phone that night so many weeks ago could have backfired, now is an epically bad time.
Because my mate doesn’t pull out of me when he plucks my phone from the nightstand.
“Don’t—”
“Annie Barrett’s phone,” he answers. I slap my hands over my mouth. I haven’t heard from my ex for weeks, although I did hear from mutual friends he got fired for fraudulent timekeeping and is on the verge of losing his apartment.
Which was not the least bit satisfying.
It was, in actuality, a lot bit satisfying.
“Hello? Is this Annie’s phone?” Trent replies on the other end.
“It is. Is this the cheating ex?”
He harrumphs on the other end of the line. “Is that what she’s telling people? She’s full of—”
“The only thing she’s full of right now is my cock, fucking her good and full of my cum.”
“I—what?”
“You heard me. What do you need? I don’t let others hear my woman come, and she’s about there.”
“Fucking hell, man. Overshare.”
“Yes, I know you aren’t used to women coming for you. Tell us what you want, Trent. We’re busy.”
“I just wanted to talk to her.”
“You’re lucky I let you speak her name.”
The pout is so pronounced on the other end that I can visualize Trent’s snide face doing it. “Then I want my stuff back.”
Wick pauses. “We don’t have anything of yours.”
“She does, though. I tried to get it myself, but the key didn’t work and the super kicked me out.”
He growls into the phone. It’s metered, but the simmering hostility is there.
Whenever he gets territorial, it makes the fire in my belly flare to life.
“No, asshole. You no longer own anything you’ve left at her apartment. You will leave her alone, or I’ll ensure that you never lay eyes on any woman again—let alone mine . Be grateful I’ve let you live. Understand?”
His growl into the phone spikes more sex into my veins.
I squeeze around him involuntarily, because that’s what he does to me, and it’s exaggerated when he claims me like this.
“There’s no need to be hostile,” Trent replies weakly.
My dragon roars a laugh. “Oh, child, you don’t understand. Annie Lane is mine. Everything of hers is mine. Everything she was and will be is mine. Stay away from what’s mine, or I will rip your heart from your scrawny chest, and the only thing I’ll regret is dirtying my claws.”
He hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the floor.
Wick had that entire conversation while still sunk deep inside me.
“That was excessive,” I comment halfheartedly.
“It was necessary.”
“I liked it.”
“You did, huh?”
“Yes. Tell me more about what’s yours.”
He thrusts into me. “This pussy is mine.”
Again. “This body is mine.”
A third time. “This heart is mine.”
Once more. “This beautiful, brilliant mind is mine.”
Again and again, he chants his claim over me and my life, and it shoves me right to the edge of oblivion.
But it doesn’t push me over the cliff yet, not until he groans out a final claim.
“Yours.”
THE END