Sin, page 28
“Still saying yes.” She’s admiring it. How perfectly it fits.
“Never though you wouldn’t.” I pull her out of her chair, leaving the others to receive my cleaning crew. While we celebrate out tonight with family and friends, they’ll take care of the man that’ll soon become a distant memory. Leave nothing behind like his son.
“So cocky, Mr. Asher.”
“Look at me…” she does, and whatever she sees in my expression melts her against me “…I love you.” It’s my vow. A promise. My truth. There will never be anyone else for me. No one would ever compare to the perfection in my arms.
“I love you, too.”
My lips come down on hers then, and the world fades away. Her taste overtakes my senses, and I let her. She’s the only person in this world with the power to destroy me, and yet, I know that my home will always be at her temple.
My tiny dancer.
Epilogue #1
Six months later…
“YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL, cousin. The bracelet from Grandma Isadora looks perfect,” Aurora says from behind me as I stand in front of the mirror adjusting the Swarovski tiara Malcolm insists I wear. He didn’t want a veil or anything to cover my face because his queen never hides. Even this dress; with the sweetheart neckline and mermaid-style bodice in lace—how the bottom curves over my behind, accentuating one of his favorite places to grab—was bought with him in mind.
To please him. See his eyes shine with hunger as he takes me in.
That man. Christ.
He’s changed my life in the best of ways. Completely.
I’m no longer afraid. I’m no longer running.
Because of him I have a family, love, and a chance to be anything and everything I want to be. No rush. No expiration dates. He supports me.
Like my wanting to find Aurora and tell her immediately who I am. To build a relationship when she could’ve easily told me to disappear. It’s because of him that I didn’t chicken out. That I have someone from my side of the family to walk with us down the aisle of this beautiful cathedral.
Just like Earl and Mary give us their blessing on my mother’s behalf.
“Thank you so much for coming, and for this.” I lift my wrist and inspect the delicate tennis bracelet with diamonds and sapphires throughout. It’s my something borrowed and blue. “Having a piece of the family to wear today means more than you’ll ever know.” Turning to face her, I take in her appearance in the elegant little black dress I chose for her and Mariah. Take in our similarities. Like our high cheekbones and skin tone. The plumpness of my lips that seems to come from my dad’s side. “It means a lot that you could make it. That you wanted to do this.”
“I’m going to flick you if you thank me again, chica. Stop it.”
“Ass,” I mutter, but she hears and smacks my arm.
“Dork.”
“You bruise me, and you’ll deal with Malcolm.” In the last few months since we connected, if I say something like that she laughs and hits me again. Our relationship feels like what a sibling one should be—what I’ve missed out on. However, this time she gets a pensive look instead. “What gives? What’s with the look?”
“How well do you know his groomsmen?”
“Which one?”
“British and a complete lying asshole.”
“Casper?” I ask, thrown off by the change in her demeanor. “Did he do something to you?”
“Other than exist?” At my nod, she lets out a huff that’s full of annoyance. “We don’t click.”
“Why?” Because I get the feeling there’s something she isn’t saying. “Do I need to involve—”
“No. It’s me.” Now she’s petulant, almost looks close to stomping her feet, and I’ve never seen her so out of sorts. Like she…
“Do you like—”
“I’m coming in,” Malcolm calls out through the door a second before barging in. His eyes fall on me immediately, hungry and calculating. “Aurora, we need a moment before the ceremony. Please find Casper and let him know I’ll be down soon.”
For a second, I shift my stare toward her and see that she’s fluffing her hair a bit. “Of course. Just behave, kiddos. Leave the fun stuff for the after…”
The second the door clicks behind her, he’s on me. Turning me around to face the vanity, he lowers my zipper carefully and then pulls the dress down. Lets the expensive gown pool at my feet as he takes in my nakedness.
“No panties, Twirl. Such a beautiful little slut.” His filthy words cause a moan to slip from my lips, for my thighs to rub together. The way he’s looking at me. How hungry he is…
“Your slut. All yours.”
He hums in the back of his throat as two fingers slide over my slit, rubbing my clit in firm strokes. “He likes her, you know. Acting a bit like me when I met you.”
“Fuck, I know. She’s interested.” It’s a whimper. A plea for more. “I’ll hook them up later.”
“Much later,” Malcolm growls out, burying two fingers deep as my body bows into the pleasure. They move in and out of me at a face past, bringing me close to the edge so fast my knees almost give out. “Hold onto the edge, sweetheart. This is going to be rough and fast.”
My knuckles dig into the edge of the counter, trembling as he lowers his zipper. The bulbous tip skims my opening and I clench, needing him inside. “Please, Mr. Asher. Take care of the ache you…fuck!”
He slams in, grabbing my hips to hold me up as I begin to fall forward. His hips are punishing, taking me with fast strokes. “Quiet, London. You don’t want the priest to hear your moans. How much of a dirty little girl you are.”
I nod, hearing the threat in his voice.
My Malcolm is possessive of me.
Will kill anyone who so much as looks and lingers, something I secretly love.
How protective he is of the women he loves. How he treats me like his most prized treasure.
He shifts my loose curls over my shoulder and kisses the base of my neck where his tattoo is. A tiny owl that mimics his, just cuter. Bold and wise; a symbol of how I see him.
“I need you, baby. All of you.”
“Always.” He knows my body. What makes me clench, tremble with pleasure, and on his next stroke angles his hips to hit that spot inside me. Each of his thrusts is precise, hard with an edge of pleasurable pain that I crave.
Those fingers on my hips dig in, bruising me, and I welcome the marks. Live for them. They’re a reminder of our passion. This nearly psychotic need we can’t control.
Malcolm brings a hand to my neck and squeezes. The hold is tight—another way to show his dominance over my female form. I love it. Him. How those fingers wrap around my throat and pull me back to his chest, deepening each thrust.
“Oh, God,” I whimper, my mouth going slack as his breath comes to my ear, a harsh, panting groan against my skin before licking the shell.
“Come on me, Twirl. Mark me.”
“Malcolm,” I yell out, standing on the tip of my toes as a rush of warmth flows through my limbs. Building in its intensity. Pulsing until breathing is obsolete and I come with a brutality that brings forth his own release.
“Son of a bitch,” he hisses, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulses within my core. Rope after rope filling me—running down my thighs as I try to regulate my breathing. And yet, as I find the will to move, my eyes remain watching him through the mirror.
How he tucks himself back in and then fixes his shirt.
How he runs a hand through his perfect mess of hair.
He acts like nothing just happened, while I’m out of breath and with blushing cheeks.
My simple makeup isn’t ruined. My hair just needs to be fluffed a bit.
However, one look at my bright eyes and smile, and you’ll know.
“You did that on purpose.” It’s the first thing that comes out after a few minutes. Malcolm is kneeling at my feet now, pulling my dress up and zipping the back. He stands to fix my breasts next, lifting each one into the built-in cup with no shame on his handsome face.
Like he didn’t just set me up to walk down the aisle with his come drying on my thighs.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” he says, stepping into my space once more after deeming me ready. His smile is boyish. Happier than I’ve ever seen him. “Breathtaking.”
“You clean up well yourself.” I fix his lapel, straightening the slightly crooked rose inside his breast pocket. “My Prince Charming.”
“More like a beast, but I’ll take it.” He dips his face to kiss my lips. Just a soft peck. “Cold feet, or burning on a hot sandy beach?”
“I’m toasty warm and ready to become Mrs. Asher.”
“Well then...” he steps back to offer me his arm “...let me walk you down the aisle toward your forever.”
I giggle at that. Crazy man. “Is that even allowed?”
“My wedding. My woman. My rules.”
Epilogue #2
Three years later…
LONDON STANDS WITH our little prince in her arms as our family surrounds them. My parents, Aurora, Mariah, and Javier are all here with their little one, Charlotte—a baby girl born almost nine months to the date after their wedding, and who owns Javi wholly.
Beside them is Stacy, who now runs the club for me as the majority shareholder as per Liam’s will. Even being the bastard that he was, he made sure to take care of her the only way he knew how. He left everything to me that had to do with the club, making sure she wouldn’t be out of employment.
She’s a good employee who’s proven herself loyal, has become a good friend to London, and who Carmelo adores.
A group of adults varying in age, and they’re standing there watching the kids in action. One sleeping and being an angel, while mine is the center of attention.
But he was like that during the pregnancy, too. Kicking and shifting—keeping her up at night—but London always had a smile. So happy and grateful that we were starting a family after months of negative test results.
I knew it was the stress. That once her body began to relax and accept that her nightmare was over, it would happen.
And it did with the biggest blessing.
Maximus is awake now and clapping in that adorable way only toddlers can, with a cheesy grin, a head full of dark brown curls, and an enthusiastic disposition that has everyone in attendance eating out of the palm of his tiny hand.
Future dictator that he is.
Kids are brutal. Demanding. Lovable in that you-do-what-I-say-or-there’ll-be-mutiny until I get my way. Like father. Like son.
And I want another one.
He reminds me of myself. Even at two years old, he’s observant. Likes order and for his rules to be followed without complaint.
Makes me motherfucking proud while his mother just rolls her eyes. Tells us to chill or the one who runs the house will let us starve. My staff fears her more than me.
It’s a beautiful thing.
London is kind and generous, but that kitten has very deep claws when it comes to how our home is run. She likes to be hands-on. Cooks and cleans, only asking for help if it’s too high or her attention is needed elsewhere.
Over the years, I have learned to not fight this. A happy wife means a happy life, and I like getting my dick wet every night.
“Congratulations, bloke,” Casper says, walking up to me from the crowd and giving me a hug. He’s smirking at me, while his eyes stray every few minutes toward a giggling Aurora. She’s ignoring him while making faces at my son, and you can see how frustrated he is by her refusal. Something happened between them while we were on our honeymoon, yet neither wants to explain. “Not many have the guts that you do, Asher. Out in the open like this...”
“Interpol can look but can’t touch. Not in this country, at least.” With the success of my Shanghai location, I’ve built two more in major Asian cities. The ribbon-cutting ceremony today for the Hong Kong building in the middle of their financial district is my largest. My customers here include a few syndicates, but the main source of transactions come from the counterfeit market: the purses, shoes, and clothing that are sold in the States and in a massive quantity.
Those items are produced all over Asia, but they come to this location to secretly deliver deposits. China would be too obvious for those following the paper trail, and it doesn’t hurt that the government here loves me.
Love my business motto and the money I bring to the country’s economy.
If they thrive, no one asks stupid questions. Cheeks turn while they shake your hand.
“You have my respect.”
“And money. Don’t forget that.” My eyes scan the large crowd, and I spot a few of my other clients milling about, each with their families and happily celebrating out in the open with no fear of repercussion. My success is to their benefit.
As my empire grows, so do the risks. However, the rewards outweigh them.
Money rules the world, and I dominate the market.
That’s what sets me apart. The fact that I have no fear.
“Very true, and I also think it’s time our families grow. Unite.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Is London still looking to sell her childhood home?” Once more his eyes flick toward my wife’s cousin.
I raise a brow and nod. “Yeah, why?”
“Is Aurora still working at the foundation with her?”
“Yes.”
“Then Chicago is about to become my permanent home base.”
Two warm hands wrap around my midsection then, interrupting, and a head sneaks under my arm. “Hello, gentlemen.”
“Hello, Mrs. Asher.” Her smile is wide, so fucking sweet each time I call her that. “Ready to go?”
“Just about. I’m waiting for Aurora to leave with Sam—”
“Who the fuc...fudgesicle is Sam?” Casper corrects himself quickly, shooting us an apologetic look. “Where is she going?”
“Aurora?” She’s playing coy, and I narrow my eyes.
“Yes,” Casper grits out, his eyes on the woman standing a few feet from us and talking to a couple from the new office here.
“She said something about a prior engagement with Sam. Not sure if it’s the guy, or...” And just like that, Casper stalks off in her direction. We hear the gasp that follows, a curse or two, and then the crowd laughs as he throws her over his shoulder and leaves. Not that Aurora put up much of a fight. Even from her upside down position, I can see the sly grin she’s fighting back.
The same one her cousin isn’t.
“Who was the mastermind?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, husband. I’m an angel.”
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her in close and lean down just enough to nuzzle the soft skin of her neck. “I’m going to punish you for that lie. Make you choke on my cock as you beg for forgiveness.”
“Promise,” she mewls low, smiling out into the crowd. “Are you going to make it hurt?”
“Where’s Maximus?” My lips kiss the shell of her ear.
“Your parents are taking him. Giving us the night off to explore the city.”
“Is that so?” Her nod is my reply. “Then head upstairs to my office and strip down, Twirl. You’re going to dance for me like that first night before I split you in two. I want us to explore the option of baby number two and make it a reality.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” The tone she uses makes me pause and pull back enough to look into her eyes. The radiant blue is glistening with unshed tears while her bottom lip trembles. In that moment as reality hits me, I fall in love with her all over again and thank God for putting her in my path. For gifting me the privilege of loving her. “I found out a few days ago, Mr. Daddy. Asher baby number two is already on its way and growing strong.”
“I love you so much, London. So fucking much.” Without giving a single fuck about the people around us, I lift her into my arms and leave the stage toward my building. I don’t stop until we’re alone and locked away at the very top overlooking the city.
Not until her clothes and mine lay in tatters somewhere by my desk.
Not until I feel her bare skin against mine and I’m buried deep inside her against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her back to my chest.
Because this is where I find my heaven. The temple I repent to.
I love her slowly. Tenderly.
Thanking her with every kiss for giving me my babies. For trusting me with her heart.
I pour my heart out to her with every thrust. With every moan I draw from her shaking body, and when she reaches her peak and turns to look at me from over her shoulder, I whisper, “I love you,” into her mouth as we break apart and come together again.
My life is crazy. Thrives on danger and moments of chaos.
Yet with her I find my balance.
The reason to be a better man.
And I’ll spend the rest of my life ruling this world so I can gift it to her every single night.
She will always be my Twirl. My best friend. My queen.
The End.
But what happens between Casper and Aurora?
COVET
Coming Late 2019
Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45295889-covet
About the Author:
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami, Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would.
As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth-grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned.
