Epilogue #3
“Yep. I just told her about the wedding.”
“Oh.” Kingston smiles, and I almost drop dead.
Seriously, what is it with men and their smiles? Why do they look sexier and even more gorgeous?
Meanwhile, women are always trying to show the right amount of teeth, not smile too big, get the right angle, etc. It’s exhausting.
After I met Kingston in person for the first time, I totally understood Adelaide’s infatuation with him. And when I saw them together, I knew she’d never have to worry about losing him again. That man isn’t going anywhere without her. I think he’d cheat death just to stay with her.
“Is Lachlan around?” he asks. “I wanted to say goodbye.”
“I believe he’s…” I search the terrace and pool area, spotting him stepping into the lawn in the direction of the random guests who are left. I point at him. “Right there.”
My phone dings.
I take it from my pocket.
Mom: I left with Pippa to help her with the baby. See you soon.
Classic.
I lower my phone.
“Is everything okay?” Adelaide asks.
My gaze drifts to my gorgeous husband in his light gray fitted pants and white dress shirt, his dark chocolate hair tousled away from his face, making him look like a sexy European billionaire from a dark romance. “Everything is perfect.”
We walk to Lachlan as he joins the crowd and say our goodbyes to Adelaide and Kingston.
When everyone is gone and it’s just us, we enter the house through the back doors that lead to the Tiffany blue and silver formal living room where a baby grand piano sits to the left.
Lachlan tells the head housekeeper we’re retiring for the night and to send up wine and a charcuterie board.
“Right away,” Margo says.
She’s so much like Lorna; I had to hire her when I met her.
In the French marble entry, I stop at the bottom of the steps and take off my shoes. Before I can straighten, Lachlan swoops me up into his arms.
I squeal and drop my heels. They hit with light thuds. “Lachlan, my shoes!”
He starts up the stairs. “One of the staff will find them and bring them to you.”
“You’re so controlling.”
“And you love it.” His lips tilt with a smirk at one corner.
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t. He’s right. I have a love/hate relationship with his controlling behavior. I love it and hate that I do.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Is it your cock?”
He almost stumbles at the top of the curving staircase.
I’m shocked.
“That mouth of yours needs to be taught a lesson.”
I’m all for this lesson, still I say, “I burnt my mouth on the food. It’s really bad.”
He peers at me from the corner of his eyes as he carries me down the hallway to our suite. “I could always teach your ass a lesson.”
I jolt, and my butt clenches in response. Is he talking about spanking or the back door entrance? We’ve never discussed the latter. Would I like it? Do I even want to try?
“Have I ever done anything you don’t like?” he asks as we approach our bedroom door. This house is like the one I grew up in. Two floors, plus an attic and a basement, all spread out with an east and west wing.
“No,” I admit hesitantly.
“Do you think I would ever do something you don’t like?”
I shrug.
He stops at the door. When he kicks it open, I get a teeny bit nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. He crosses the bedroom and sets me on the bed, his gaze hungry. I scoot back a little and push up onto my elbows.
“Look at you, my golden ray of light ablaze in that dress. I spent the party fantasizing about taking that off and doing wicked things to you.”
My core squeezes with need, and my panties get wetter.
“I’m not going to do any of those things to you.”
Wait—what? “You’re not?” I frown.
“No. Tonight you’re in charge. You decide what we do and how we do it.”
“Wait.” I lick my lips and scramble to my knees. “What if I want to tie you up?”
“I’ll help you.”
A huge smile breaks across my face. “What if I want to ride you with your hands bound so you can’t touch me, only watch?”
His aqua eyes pulse with light like they’re freaking glowing. “I would break free.”
I laugh. “That’s not fair. You’d have to keep them there.” I get on my knees and inch toward him. He scoots close enough for me to touch.
I unbutton his shirt and run a finger down his chest over his firm pec then kiss his Celtic tattoo. “What if I want to lick you all over?”
“I’ll strip right now.”
My eyes bug. “Margo is coming. With food.”
“I’m sure she’s seen a bare ass before.”
“Oh my god.” I shake my head and rest my forehead on his upper chest. “You are shameless.”
“And I’m yours.”
I lift my head. “I love that you’re mine.”
He takes my cheeks and kisses me passionately, until my head grows fuzzy. I haven’t passed out during sex in a while. Tonight might break my ongoing record.
A knock sounds on the door.
Lachlan releases me and turns toward Margo and her helper, Fable.
She’s new, pretty, and young compared to the rest of the staff—only two years older than me. I’ll be honest, I was nervous to let Margo hire her at first. Not because I worry about Lachlan straying. I worried about her being around him and Wes—and Rory when he visits, which he does on occasion.
They can be brutes when they’re together at times, playing rugby in the yard, sparring, and there’s their crass humor.
She just seems so innocent, like the way her face turned beet red, and her gaze darted away when she saw me and Lachlan kissing as if she’s never seen anyone kiss before.
I climb from the bed and walk to the sitting area in front of the fireplace where they’re arranging the tray and wine.
Margo gestures to it. “Is there anything else you might need?”
“It looks wonderful. Thank you.”
“Have a good night.” Margo nods, and Fable follows behind her, averting her gaze the way she often does.
The last time Wes was here, he noticed her and did a double take like he’d seen a ghost. Something was up with that stare. I can’t imagine someone like Wes with someone like her. He’d corrupt her in every way imaginable.
Lachlan comes up behind me and presses his erection against my lower back and butt. He runs his hands down my arms and leans over my shoulder. “What would you like to start with?”
“Food or sex?”
“Your call, mo bhana-phrionnsa.”
That voice in Gaelic, and his oaky rainstorm scent. I stifle a moan.
“The strawberries look good. Hey!” I turn to face him, noticing his shirt is completely off. “You said you had a surprise for me.”
He grins. “You distracted me. You always distract me.”
My lips reflexively tilt with a smile. “What is it?”
“This.” He holds out the palm of his hand. “It’s our contract.”
“There’s nothing there.”
“Because there’s no contract. I had it terminated.”
I blink in shock, mulling over what this means. “Are we still married?”
“Yes. At the Sea House, it was official. I made sure of it. It’s why we signed new documents.”
I let this sink in further and walk my fingers up his chest. “Does that mean I’m free to go?”
He lifts his chin, his eyes darkening as he grips my hips. “You can leave, but I’ll be following you.”
“Even if I go to Scotland?”
He thinks for a minute, turmoil showing on his strained features. “Even there.”
He won’t go there for anything, but he’d go there for me. Once Lachlan is yours, it’s forever. The man is fiercely loyal. Little did I know that was the kind of man I needed.
I clasp my hands behind his neck. “Lucky for you, I don’t have a trip planned anytime soon.”
He kisses me in the commanding way he does everything, owning the moment, owning my body, my heart, leaving me breathless–even passed out on occasion—and always desperate for more. My love, my beast, my everything.