Page 372 of Don’t Say Mafia

I sighed. “You two are assholes.”

“Yeah,” Maddox said cheerfully. “But we saved your life, so you have to accept it.”

The cuff between our wrists shifted softly as the car moved, and I turned it once with my thumb, feeling the solid weight of the lock still holding it closed. I glanced down at Eden.

“Can we unlock this?” she murmured sleepily.

I thought about it for a moment, then tightened my fingers around hers. “Not yet.”

She smiled against my shoulder, and neither of us let go.

Maddox glanced back again in the mirror a couple of minutes later. “You really think this is over?” he asked quietly.

I looked down at Eden, who was now sleeping, a temporary ill-fitting ring glinting on her finger that Lawson had gotten from who knows where.

“No,” I said as I kissed her temple. “But tonight, it is.”

The SUV merged onto the highway. Around us, Vegas glittered, beautiful and ruthless. And somewhere out there, the Irish were already planning their next move.

Let them come. I had a wife now.

And I’d burn the whole city down before I let anyone touch her again.

EPILOGUE 1

EDEN

Imoaned around his cock, the sound muffled and desperate as my tongue swirled over the thick head, tasting salt and heat and him. The vibration pulled a low, erotic groan from Jagger’s throat, and his hips jerked against my face.

We’d barely made it through the front door of our new place.

It had been a week since the Elvis chapel. A week since I’d said “I do” in a torn blouse and skirt while he stood there in a bloody shirt with cuffs linking our wrists in a vow no one could break. It had been a week of hospital visits to Gage and Cruz and quiet nights in hotel suites while we began the process of moving into a new penthouse where I didn’t have to remember the sight of Zachary’s body or being hunted through the halls.

Our new place smelled of fresh paint and new beginnings, and we hadn’t yet managed to unpack a single box.

Instead, Jagger had backed me against the nearest wall the second the elevator doors slid shut, kissing me until my knees nearly gave out beneath me. Then he lifted me and carried me to the center of the empty living room, where the late-afternoon sun spilled light across the hardwood floors, and laid me down right there.

Jagger had stripped me slowly, lifting my T-shirt over my head inch by inch while his hands lingered over my skin before finally sliding my shorts down my hips. Then he shifted me beneath him until our bodies were aligned in perfect opposition, his thighs bracketing my head while his cock rested heavy and thick against my lips.

I opened for him instantly, taking him deep. My cheeks hollowed as I sucked and licked, greedy for him.

He answered by spreading my thighs wide and burying his face between them.

His tongue flicked over my clit in slow, perfect circles, teasing at first, then firmer, faster, matching the rhythm I set with my mouth. Every time I took him deeper, he rewarded me with a long, flat drag of his tongue down my folds, ending with a hard suck on the swollen bud that made my hips jerk off his face.

I moaned again and pulled back so it was just his head in my mouth, and I could torture him by suckling and tonguing the slit. His hips flexed, and he thrust back into my mouth, the piercing on his cock catching the back of my throat in a way that made my eyes water and my core clench hard.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed against me in a muffled voice. “That’s so good.”

I swirled my tongue and tried to relax my throat so I could take him deeper while his fingers dug into my thighs, holding me open so he could lick and suck and tease until my legs shook violently around his head.

He slid two fingers inside me while his tongue stayed relentless on my clit. I was bucking against his mouth, and he groaned in approval before biting down on it gently. The combination of his fingers and his teeth shattered me. My thighs clamped around his head on instinct as I came, and I cried out around his cock. Jagger cursed as I grabbed his ass and shoved more of his cock down my throat.

“Fuck,” he growled as he pulled out and flipped us around so that I was now on top, straddling his chest with his cock digging into my stomach.

“Welcome home, wife,” he rasped.

I shifted forward until the blunt head of him nudged my entrance, slick and ready from his mouth. Rising up, I sank down slowly on his length, inch by thick inch, feeling every ridge, every vein, and the way he stretched me open until I was shaking.