Epilogue
LANTANA
I sat perched on the granite countertop, my legs dangling, watching Legion. His large frame moved around the kitchen making the space feel smaller than usual. He was rummaging through drawers until he found what he wanted, presenting it to me with a smile. I could only smile back as I watched him.
Using the paring knife he began slicing apples with such expertise that I could only raise a brow at him.
Every time he stepped past me to reach for a bowl or a towel, he left a lingering kiss on my knee, or a graze of his lips against my shoulder.
It was a silent reminder that I belonged to him, and he to me.
"You're distracting me, Lan," he murmured, though he didn't stop. He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a familiar shiver racing down my spine.
"Am I? I'm just sitting here," I replied, a smirk playing on my lips. I reached out, my fingers sliding into the thick hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him slightly closer. "Maybe you're just easily distracted."
He chuckled, a low vibration that I felt in my own chest. He turned back to the apples, but his hand lingered on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles.
"Jameson called again this morning," he said, his voice dropping an octave.
I stiffened slightly. "And let me guess. He still thinks Louisiana is the Promised Land?"
"He thinks you're wasting your potential in the city and that we should move South.”
I scoffed, leaning back on my palms. "He can think whatever he wants. I'm not leaving the Duchess or the girls. This city might be a chaotic shithole, but it's my shithole. You could tell him I said he can stop dreaming."
Legion paused, the knife hovering over a slice of apple. He looked up at me, his dark eyes scanning my face, then dropping down to the slight, almost imperceptible curve of my stomach.
"I already told him," Legion said. "I told him I staying here. With you. I'm not moving anywhere when I've spent the last six months making sure you were good and pregnant.
I felt a surge of warmth at his fierce, protective heat.
I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"You better be sure about that, Legion. Because if you ever decided to pack up and leave me here, I wouldn't just cry into my pillow.
I'd hunt you down. I'd find where you're hiding and I'd make you wish you'd stayed in those gutters. "
He grinned, a flash of white teeth and raw hunger. "I know you would. That's why I'm terrified of you."
"Good," I whispered. "Keep that fear. It keeps you honest."
He set the knife down and stepped between my legs, his heat radiating through my thin leggings. He rested his hands on the counter on either side of my hips, pinning me in place.
"Speaking of honesty," he began, his gaze intensifying. "How are the girls holding up? Any word from the Rotten Apple Chapter?"
"Crucifix is pissed," I sighed, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
"The Bloody Scorpions are wanting to retaliate for what we did to them, which means now the Rotten Apple Chapter has to work with the Harlots.
Not to mention the intel Hoax was true. The Bloody Femmes are carving out a reputation in the city, and they're doing it by hitting the smaller establishments first. No bueno.”
"F.O.C.U.S. has been picking up the slack," Legion noted. "I've run a few jobs with them recently. They're efficient, but they're unstable."
“Yeah, and this only the beginning.”
“I don’t want you doing runs, not while pregnant.” He patted my belly.
“I’ll work around it. Duchess knows this, but I’m still their Road Captain, and I have responsibilities, you know that.”
He nodded. “I get it.”
After a fe moments of silence his voice rose as he rummaged for the pie pan beneath the counters."And Vesper?"
I felt a flicker of disgust at the mention of her name. Duchess had paid the bitch off, promising her a place in the Harlots as long as she bled the truth about Vane and the Bloody Scorpions to the Feds. She got five months in prison, and now she was out and playing nice among the girls.
“Keep your enemy close,” she’d said to me when I fought her on it.
I, on the other hand, along with Roulette, Rainbow and Obsidian, would like to rip her throat out if we had the chance.
"You still hate her." Legin asked.
"I don't hate her, Legion. Hate takes energy. I just don't trust her. She came to me a few weeks ago, trying to apologize. Told me she was sorry for the fight." I rolled my eyes. " She nearly fucking killed me.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told her to watch her back every time she entered a room with me. She got the message, now we barely speak."
"That sounds like you," he murmured.
He shifted, burying his nose in the valley of my cleavage, inhaling deeply.
"You smell like vanilla and something... sweeter," he whispered.
"It's the pregnancy," I breathed, my head tilting back. "Or maybe it's just you making me crazy."
He groaned, his teeth grazing the top of my breast through the fabric of my shirt. He nipped the peak, a sharp, sudden sensation that made my hips jerk forward.
"Aren't you supposed to be baking a pie for me?" I gasped, though my hands were already pulling him closer, my nails digging into his shoulders.
"I want my dessert first," he growled against the sensitive skin of my ear, his voice a raw, guttural command.
Legion was never tender in his lovemaking, and that’s what I loved about him.
His lips crashed against my neck as if he were starving and he made me laugh and then sigh as he sucked a dark mark into my skin, claiming me in the middle of the kitchen.
I arched my back, my fingers clawing into the hard muscles of his shoulders, pulling him flush against me.
He let out a low, animalistic sound that vibrated through my chest and settled deep in my core, making me cream for him instantly.
Sliding his under the hem of my top, his rough, calloused palms grazed my ribs. The contrast of his rough hands against my softness made me whimper. With one fluid, violent motion, he yanked the fabric upward, stripping the shirt over my head and tossing it blindly onto the floor.
My breasts felt the cool air of the air conditioner for a heartbeat before the heat of his mouth replaced it.
He clamped his lips over one nipple, sucking hard, the pressure immediate and demanding.
I cried out, my head snapping back as he used his tongue to swirl around the peak, teasing the bud, flicking it into an aching, throbbing point of need.
He switched sides, his teeth grazing the other nipple, sending a jolt of pure electricity straight to my core. I could feel myself growing wet for him. That heavy, pulsing heat was even more pronounced ever since I got pregnant.
"Are you wet for me, Lan," he whispered, his voice thick with lust, his breath hot against my skin.
“No,” I gave our a shaky whimper not wanting to give in to him. But I was weak.
He reached down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. He didn't bother removing them; he simply ripped the lace aside, pushing the fabric enough to expose my center. He slid his hand down, his fingers finding the drenched folds of my pussy, and he growled in satisfaction.
“Ohhh, what a fucking liar you are.”
I whimpered he rubbed his thumb over my clit, circling the swollen nub with a steady, crushing pressure that made my vision blur.
"Legion, please," I whimpered, my voice breaking.
“Should we punish you for lying to me?”
“Yes. Yes, please punish me!” I cried out for him.
He didn't make me wait as he pressed the palm of his hand on my chest, pushing me back gently on the counter.
He dropped to his knees between my legs, the position leaving me completely exposed, my thighs spread wide on the cold granite.
I gasped, feeling his hot breath ghosting over my clit for a second, a torturous tease, before his tongue made contact.
He licked me from bottom to top, one long, slow, wet stroke that gathered my juices and smeared them across my opening. I gasped, my fingers locking into his hair, pulling his face harder against me. He buried his face in my heat, his tongue flicking rapidly, relentlessly against my clit.
The sensation was overwhelming. I could hear the wet, sucking sounds of his tongue working against my flesh, the squelching of my own lubrication as he drank me in. He looked up, smiling at me before he spanked it.
My hips jerked upward as he rubbed at my opening before spanking me again, my stung so sweetly and pulsed in the air.
“Ohhh, there’s my good girl. That’s what you get for lying to me.”
E spanked me again, my clit throbbing under his hand, and then he used his fingers to stretch my lips open, exposing the deep pink of my interior.
“Such a sweet, wet pussy for me,” he groaned as he slid two fingers inside me. He pumped them in a steady, driving rhythm while his tongue continued to lash at my clit.
I felt the pressure building, a tight, coiled spring of tension in my lower belly. I bucked against him, my hips jerking upward, trying to merge my body with his.
"Yes, right there... oh god, right there," I moaned, my voice a ragged sob.
He sucked my clit into his mouth and the friction intensified until I couldn't breathe.
I felt the first wave of the orgasm crash over me, a violent shudder that started in my toes and ripped through my spine.
I screamed his name, my pussy walls clamping tight around his fingers in a rhythmic, desperate grip.
I came hard, my juices flooding his mouth, the taste of my own release mingling with his saliva.
He didn't stop until the last tremor faded, sucking the remaining nectar from my folds with a slow, possessive hunger.
I panted, my chest heaving, my skin flushed a deep rose. I looked down at him, his face glistening with my wetness, his eyes dark and predatory.