Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

Epilogue

EMORY

Six Months Later

A lthough it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, our days were filled with trust, love, and happiness.

With two days until Christmas, light flurries danced around us as we arrived at the cemetery, battling the sunlight that was determined to push through the gray clouds and splay through the trees onto the grounds.

Shadows of my new family and my brother’s cuddled together around our mother’s gravesite had unshed tears lining my eyes. It was only my second time visiting the grave—I was only an infant the first time.

The headstone was small and modest, our father refusing to give her anything else. But Basilio and I had since made changes to spruce it up.

Today, it was engraved to show the world how much we owed her.

My eyes roamed over the scripture, reading it over and over again: Forever our Mamma. Forever loved. Forever missed.

I stared at the grave for the longest time, thinking of the woman whose life had been cut short but had breathed life into us.

It was my brother who found the words to express what I felt.

“We love you, Mamma,” he whispered, holding tight to his son’s hand. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry for believing Gio that you would have so readily abandoned me.”

His voice cracked, and fresh tears pricked at my eyes.

“Is your mommy with angels, Mamma?” Amara asked softly, her gaze locked on the grave.

“She is,” I confirmed.

Amara’s dark brows furrowed as if deep in thought. “Mother Liana said her mommy isn’t with angels because she was bad.”

I tensed for a moment, the motherly instinct of shielding Amara from everything bad flaring within me. I didn’t want Amara to know of bad things that happened in the world. I didn’t want her to know how much pain humans were capable of bestowing on one another.

But I tempered it down. After all, Amara had seen it firsthand for the first five years of her life.

“Mother Liana is right,” I whispered. “But that makes her and Louisa that more special.”

Amara nodded seriously. “And you and Papa, too.”

Killian pulled her into a hug. “But you’re the most special of us all.”

I thought my husband would eventually recognize the need for a son, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. He doted on Amara, and had already planned out her next twenty years—self-defense lessons, shooting lessons, strategy lessons, money laundering schemes (to be had much later in life, thankfully), and their most favorite one, bow and arrow lessons.

“We should come more often to Grandmamma’s grave,” Amara whispered softly.

“All together,” Grayson added. “Amara can bring flowers and I can bring my cars.” Then as if he was scared to upset his late grandma, he whispered, “I don’t think she would like my toy guns.”

My brother and I shared an amused look.

“We’ll visit more,” I promised. “And anything you bring, she’ll love.”

“We’ll never stop coming,” Basilio agreed, his own family by his side. It was so heartwarming to see us all with our own families, and unlike our parents, ours were happy, protected, and blossoming under our affection.

Ever since I’d given up control of the Syndicate to Killian, I’d grown soft. It didn’t matter to me because my husband loved that side of me, and instinctively I knew it was what Amara needed.

Killian’s hand wrapped around my waist, lending me his warmth, while our daughter stood between us.

“She’s looking over both of you,” Killian said softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And I know she’s so proud.”

I looked at our daughter. Basilio swore that he saw our mother in her, more with every day that passed. Her bravery. Incredible strength. The protectiveness.

“We’ll do better for our children,” Basilio promised.

He was right. Our mamma deserved so much more in life, but we hoped she could at least find peace in death.

The first solid flake landed on her stone grave then, with each of us lost in our own thoughts, and soon it was covered in a crisp white blanket.

As if it were fit for an angel.

“Merry Christmas, álainn .”

The murmured words were breathed in my ear, my body hot and bothered, writhing underneath my husband’s weight.

“Are you my present?” I rasped, thrusting my fingers into his hair. His teeth grazed against my nipple and shot pleasure through me. He bit down hard, then eased the sting by sucking it gently, and my brain grew hazy with need.

My body was already on the brink of an orgasm and he hadn’t even entered me yet. This sensation would be something I’d chase for the rest of my life, but I knew only this man could give it to me.

I arched my back off the bed, the familiar craving and hunger for him driving me.

Killian’s mouth trailed down my stomach until his head was buried between my thighs. His mouth covered my pussy, sucking hard, pushing his tongue inside me. Each time he touched me felt new. He was branding me, ruining me, only to put me back together.

“Oh my God.” Bursts of pleasure shot through me as he roughly lapped at me, eating me out. My hips bucked at the sweet sensation. “Kill?—”

Panting, my body shook under his touch, but he refused to ease up. He fucked me with his tongue and his expert fingers pressed against my clit, torturously circling the bundle of nerves.

My body exploded into a million pieces, his name a breathless whisper on my lips.

“I need you inside me.”

Killian grunted something in Gaelic, which he seemed to do increasingly often and was the biggest turn-on.

“Spread your legs. I want to see my wife’s pussy.” My body ignited at the sound of his command.

He hovered over me, his body a masterpiece. His abs were ripped and power radiated off of him. My eyes shifted to that lone tattoo on his chest, commemorating us, and I traced it with my fingers.He had added Amara’s name to it, and this time, I was present when they inked those letters on his chest.

Our family.

Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be so happy. There were days that I pinched myself, just to ensure it wasn’t a dream.

“I love you, Em.” His eyes burned, threatening to set me ablaze.

“I love you , Killian.”

I spread my thighs wider and his gaze caught aflame. The hard, hot heat of his cock pulsed right through me. I lifted my hips off the bed, urging him on, his expert touch unraveling me and putting me back together.

He grabbed the nape of my neck in a rough move, pressing his starving mouth on mine. My lips opened for him and his tongue conquered what was already his.

His hard cock poised at my entrance, he waited, the tension stretching between us.

“Now, give me my Christmas present,” I demanded, and he smiled wickedly.

In one swift move, he drove deep, filling me to the brink, and the flames licked both of our bodies. My nails dug into his butt, urging him on. He held nothing back, taking my body rough, each stroke harder than the last.

Words fumbled from my lips on a moan, my raw need reflecting his.

“Fucking mine,” he growled, pounding into me. He thrust in and out, satisfying my every need. Nothing mattered right now but this sensation we were chasing together.

“Yes… Please… Yes…”

His hips worked like pistons, punishing me and rewarding me at the same time. Slick, hot skin on skin, the pain and pleasure mixed in the most delightful way.

My moans became louder as he rode me hard and fast, my ears buzzing with intense pleasure and stars swirling behind my eyelids.

He pressed his mouth onto mine, swallowing my screams of pleasure. I was lost, everything forgotten except this powerful man who fucked me with unrelenting strength, grunting and wild.

I cried out his name each time his cock slammed into me with a brutal force.

And as he fucked me harder, I swore he grew thicker inside me.

“Mine.” He bit my lower lip, staking his claim.

I gasped, aching; my pussy squeezed him for all he could give me. “Yes, yours.”

He was pushing my body to the highest peak.

“Ohhh!”

A blinding sensation shot through me as I climaxed and a scream ripped from my throat. He muffled it with his mouth just as I muffled his roar of pleasure as he reached the edge with me.

My body broke out in goose bumps as he trailed soft kisses along my neck, murmuring soft words.

“Hands down the best Christmas present ever,” I rasped.

He grinned against my mouth. “I aim to please, wife.”

The day was officially off to a great start.