Someone stroked along my spine. Someone else massaged the backs of my thighs. I buried myself deep in Fallon’s ass and stayed there as long as I thought might be comfortable for him. I carefully backed off and watched intently for any sign my cum came out of his hole, but it stayed in his ass along with Aspen’s, and a strange smugness had me feeling good about myself as a man, along with the afterglow.
“Feckin’ sexy,” Cillian growled behind me, and I laughed, feeling nothing but joy for the first time in a long while.
Rowen leaned down and kissed my ear. “Ye’ve officially got me curious,” he said, and at first I was confused, but he nodded at Fallon where he lay blissed out with his eyes closed and a smile curving his lips.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Maybe sometime when we’re alone,” I murmured.
He gave me a single nod, and whatever had been holding him back from me recently seemed to be gone.
“I love you all,” I said with a sigh and moved over until I could flop onto my back and stare at the sky on the other side of the crystal clear glass ceiling overhead. “And that’s not a metaphor or anything, I mean it.”
I got back four tired, blissed-out grunts in reply and snickered.
There was obnoxious hooting that had to be Conall, and polite clapping I assumed was Sloan. Smiling, I let my eyes drift closed.
Sometime later a blanket was tossed over me, and eventually warm, strong arms picked me up off the tiles. I snuggled against Aspen’s chest.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered in my ear, and I knew he would. They all would. And maybe I wasn’t very deadly, but I was pretty sure I’d kill to keep the happiness I had right now, and I couldn’t be bothered to try to work out the ethics of that. Love doesn’t have rules.
EPILOGUE - PART 1
CILLIAN
Club Bellissimo’smusic was pounding, a delightful electric shock that sizzled through my body and landed in my balls, making them all tingly. There was nothing better than the heat of crowded bodies jumping and swaying in time with the tempo of the music—but we weren’t here for this section of the club. It took us five minutes to get in, and we missed the line of partygoers because I was a regular theywantedin their establishment. I spent the money they loved and had a reputation among those who needed to submit. I’d never thought of myself as a Dom, but I enjoyed a bit of play every now and then.
To the right side of the dark room was a staircase that led down to the basement, where the real, members-only fun was happening. I saluted Giuseppe, one of the big Italian fuckers who guarded the entrance to the sex club. He knew me but had never been a fan, not that I blamed him. We might be allies with Elio Folliero, but that didn’t mean they had to like us or vice versa.
Vail cuddled up closer to me as he raised his gaze to Giuseppe’s face. The guard towered over Vail, was even taller than me, and wide enough to make him scary. The mean look in his eyes didn’t help, but that’s how Giuseppe kept away those who were curious. No one ever approached him unless they were a member. His black beard was longer than I remembered and his hair shaggier, hanging loosely around his ears—orear, considering his left one had been chopped off by some Russian and looked like an unopened flower bulb.
“Good evening, ye bastard,” I greeted, with a teasing grin.
He turned a glare on me. “Not you again,” he grunted out, crossing his muscular arms over his white dress shirt. “You haven’t been here for a while. Thought I wasn’t going to see your ugly face anymore.”
“I didn’t know ye missed me so much, mate.” I used the full extent of my Irish accent.
He glared. Stepping out of the way, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Get the fuck in there, Shaughnessy.”
I laughed and wrapped my arm around Vail’s shoulders, tugging him closer. I gave Giuseppe a wink on the way past, and his glare intensified. Given half a chance he’d gut me like a fish.
“Where are we?” Vail asked, his gaze jumping around as we descended the staircase lit up with red lamps. The narrow stairs glowed a deep crimson and led down into the basement like a tunnel of sin.
“I’ve wanted to take ye here for a long time, bug.” I grinned and kissed him on the cheek. He was delectable in a pair of leather pants I’d bought for him specifically for tonight, and a tight black shirt that hugged his body like a second skin. I couldn’t keep my hands off him, and every time I gave his arse a squeeze, he blushed and chuckled.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs the room didn’t get any brighter. The play area was dim, but we had enough light to see what was happening around us. That was the entire point, though, because the sex room was about the racy atmosphere. The air was smoky from a machine in the corner of the room, and there was low music with a male voice singing to a slow beat. The only other sounds were the moans coming from other members.
The walls were black, only broken up by a few “mirrors,” and various pieces of BDSM furniture were scattered around the room. Toward the far wall was a couple on a St. Andrew’s cross, with the young blond sub strapped to the piece of wood. His torso gleamed under a spotlight above him, freshly oiled by the looks of him, and leather pants barely covered his round arsecheeks. His Dom—a tall Black man sprinkled with glitter—stood behind him wielding a nine-tail whip. The sub moaned prettily every time the whip came down on his flushed back.
Vail watched the same scene as me, and he winced against my side. “We’re not doing that, are we?” he whispered. “I couldn’t handle that.”
“Ach. No, sweet pea. That’s hard-core. I like a wee bit of pain but not like that.” I turned to him and hooked my finger under his chin, tilting his head back, something I’d learned would keep his attention on me for longer than normal. “I would never hurt ye more than ye’d enjoy. I promise. It’s not me style.”
“I object to that statement” came an annoying voice behind me. I sighed and stared up at the ceiling, praying for the strength to deal with him tonight. “It depends on who you are and who you’ve pissed off.”
I curled my arm around Vail’s shoulders and turned to look at Oisín but stopped short at the sight of him holding a chain that linked onto the collar of my old friend Reed. It was an interesting scenario, seeing Reed with a shock collar, and he didn’t seem too impressed to be here. He kept roving his glare from Oisín to me and back again as he limped along. He pulled at the collar with his forefinger, and Oisín yanked the chain, and it was clearly a warning because Reed winced and let it go again.
Reed didn’t appear half as cocky as he had been when we were torturing him. He was shirtless, his deeply tan skin gleaming under the blue lights of the room. Some of the wounds we’d given him were still healing and covered with bandages, but others were fresh, shiny pink scars. His mouth curled, and he only wore tight jeans that fit him like a glove, clamping on his strong thighs. One knee was supported by a metal brace, and being intimately familiar with the damage I’d caused, I figured he’d be wearing it for life.
“Have a new pet, do ye?” I asked, smirking at Reed.
