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He’s a freaking god. Tall and lean, and as muscled as a superhero. Shoulders and arms built to take away your ability to speak. Chiseled abs and those grooved hip-muscle things that I don’t even know what they’re called but they seem to be evolution’s way of making even smart women go fucking stupid. Tattoos for days. Deeply tanned, Mediterranean skin, with a shadow on his razor-sharp jaw, and dark, perfectly tousled hair.
“And I lost a fucking brother,” Cillian snaps coldly. “But here we are. And you can either get on board, or go find a nice length of rope somewhere and join your boy.”
And why does the idea of Neve Kildare, with all her fight and all her attitude, on her knees looking up at me and begging for my cock, engulf me with a desire stronger than anything I’ve ever felt in my life?
“You know what?” I smile sweetly at him. “How about I go this way, and you go help Lucia find the missing front clasp on her gown. Or a fucking bra, for that matter.” I turn on my heel, yanking my arm away as I plunge into the crowd. I am not jealous. No. Fucking. Way.
“Now, you will address me with courtesy, or you will not address me at all. I am your king’s new queen, remember? And if you so much as fucking glance at my sister again, I’ll have you thrown off a roof.” Ezio’s eyes bulge as she suddenly steps closer to him, her hand jutting out and grabbing his collar in her fist. “I may even do it myself.” Okay. I’m impressed. And hard. What the fuck? Ezio’s face crumples, and suddenly, the man is honest-to-God crying.
I watch in a daze as my future wife turns a shit situation into solid gold. And for the first time, I realize two things. One, Neve is a fucking force to be reckoned with. She’s bold. She’s tough. And she’s ballsy. And two, all of that is a serious turn on. I’m so fucked.
And Ares is freaking huge. Like “how the fuck is that going to even fit inside of me” huge. Thick, swollen, gorgeous, making me shiver as it pulses against my thigh.
“I’m not jealous,” I grunt. My finger darts between us. “Not real, remember? Don’t even share a bed.” Neve rolls her eyes. And without another word, she stalks off. Okay, seriously. Fuck married life.
I’m thinking of ten other women in some freakazoid orgy. And God, do I hate how stabby and wound up that makes me.
And as his gorgeous cock piledrives into me over and over, his abs slapping my ass and his fingers wrapped tight around my throat, I lose myself in the savageness of it. I’ve been craving this, like a drug. Like a junkie aching for the next hit. All freaking week.
“Were you planning to let me walk into dinner with both of our families looking like this?!” He grins, shrugging. “Dick.” “Again? So soon? Well, if you insist, but Ya-ya is really going to be pissed if we’re late for—”
“Who is my WIFE,” I snarl savagely. “In case you’ve forgotten that.”
“Come for me,” he rasps into my ear. “Come for me knowing I’ll burn the goddamn world down just to have you in the ashes.”
“Come for me knowing I’ll fucking kill for you. But most of all, Neve,” he snarls, ramming his cock so fucking deep that I crash over the edge. “Come for me because you’re fucking mine.”
Greg opens his mouth and immediately snaps it shut again. It’s pretty clear he’s heard about his little pal Mike’s visit to the ER two nights ago. And I’m guessing coming face-to-face with the grim fucking reaper—aka, me—has him about a nanosecond away from shitting his pants.
Please. With the fury roaring inside of me right now, I’ll do it in front of a million witnesses.
“Bad.” He growls the word low into my ear as his touch trails to my other wrist. “That’s your safe word. I know what you’re thinking right now, Neve,” he murmurs quietly. “I know where your mind is going. But you know who I am. You know where you are. And you know this is not then and I am not him.”
And there isn’t. There’s not one horror I wouldn’t hesitate to commit, or army I wouldn’t take on myself. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep the woman I realize I’ve fallen completely in love with from harm.
“I have an idea,” I murmur into her red locks. “We’ve got this open bottle of Pol Roger. I say we order Chinese takeout and watch dumb movies while we finish it.” “How dumb are you willing to go?” “Maybe Adam Sandler?” She snorts. “Try harder, buddy. We’re talking mid-nineties Jim Carrey.” I laugh deeply as I kiss her head. “We have a deal.”
Wake up. You have to fucking wake up. You have to wake up because I love you.
She sobs as I clutch her to me, holding her tight, like I’m never going to let her fucking go. I kiss her forehead and her hair as she cries into my chest and clings to me. “I love you,” I hiss into her hair. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”
I mean, I doubt I’ll ever become a left-handed star quarterback for the NFL now. But that’s their loss.
Castle arches a brow. “Oh good, you look a little less like shit today.” “Stop it, you’ll make me cry.” He grins.
But luckily, Neve and I aren’t the only ones with type O-negative blood. Castle does, too. And that’s who I really owe my life to. That big asshole carried me out of the cabin, dumped me into the passenger seat of the car, and gave me a transfusion from his own veins while he drove us to the local hospital. That’s the only reason I’m still here. When he steps into the room, it’s the first time I’ve seen him since I’ve woken up. Before I can say anything, he shakes his head. “Don’t.” “Why not?” Castle shrugs. “You don’t thank family.”
Outside the hospital Eilish, Callie, Hades, Kratos—even Deimos, who’s flown in from London—are waiting for me, alongside Ya-ya, of course. There are hugs all around, and tears, and laughter. And I watch it all from almost outside my body, like an observer watching the impossible happen: rivals who turned into allies. Enemies who became family.
Sometimes, the idea that this man shot himself in order to save my life is absolutely bonkers for me to even comprehend. It’s also frequently an insane turn on.
