Savage Mafia King (Vicious Heirs #3)

Epilogue—Isabella

I press my fingertips into my temples and massage them lightly as I try to keep my focus. I feel like my eyes are beginning to cross with all the work I've been doing on this final project.

Right now, I'm in the midst of laying out the potential earnings and savings that could be implemented if my marketing strategy was applied to a new launch—all hypothetical, of course, but I have to pull from the numbers I have access to and prove my point to convince my professors that I really deserve to pass.

I can't believe how close I am to being done with all of this. It feels a little surreal, knowing that I'm going to be leaving so much of what has become my normal, day-to-day life behind me. I'm not going to be living at the sorority anymore, though, honestly, I've all but moved in to Marcus's penthouse anyway. And while my plans for post-college do involve working in the charity department for Termina to make a real difference in the world, it will be strange not to have to slouch from class to class, not to be on campus any longer.

But it's a change I'm well and truly ready for. With everything that has happened in the last year, I know I will thrive in the next new stage of my life. I feel like I've gone from being a girl to a woman in the time since Marcus came into my life, being faced with the enormity of everything that my family name carries with it but being able to make the moves and steps I have to make in order to keep them safe. Working with the Silvas might not have been what I expected, but they have shown themselves to be strong allies.

But I can't think about my family business right now. No, I have to stay focused on my studies. I'm at the desk that I've put up in his penthouse, the one that overlooks the city. It's a gorgeous view, though I've hardly lifted my head long enough to appreciate it in the last few hours.

The door to the elevator that leads to the penthouse opens, and in strolls Marcus. He's just come back from the gym, and his shirtless body is glistening with sweat, showing off the muscles beneath his skin. He makes his way over to me and drops a kiss on top of my head.

"How are you getting on?"

I groan. "Ugh, I feel like I'm going crazy. All I can think about are these numbers..." I gesture to the stacks of papers in front of me, and I feel a smile cross his lips where he's still leaning against my head.

"You want to see if there's something I can do to get your mind off of it?"

I glance up at him, feeling a little flutter in my chest. I should have known that he was going to come back from his workout in a very specific kind of mood. He usually does, the endorphins pumping around his body turning into something else entirely.

I pout at him playfully. "I don't know if anything could get my mind off of this..."

"Let's find out."

He takes it as a challenge and pulls my chair away from the desk, spinning it around before he sinks down to his knees before me. He parts my legs with ease, his strong touch melting me at once. Grabbing the hem of my skirt, he pushes it up and shoots a glance up at me, his eyes dark with desire.

He presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, and I close my eyes, my head tilting back as a rush of pleasure consumes me. But before I can totally lose myself to it, he pulls back. When I look down at him again, his eyebrows are raised pointedly.

"I want to see the look on your face when I eat you out."

I let out a low groan at the sound of his words. I love it when he talks to me like that, as though he can't imagine anything better than pleasuring me. And as best I can, I keep my eyes fixed on him as he traces his lips up the inside of my thigh, letting me feel the heat of his breath on my skin, and then, at least, he reaches my pussy.

He kisses the outside of my panties, and even that is almost more than I can take. I squirm in my seat, and he slides his hands beneath my ass to hold me in place as he brushes aside my panties and finally plants his lips against my clit.

"Oh, fuck," I gasp as I feel his tongue swirling with a long, slow spiral against my clit. The sensation is almost more than I can take, and I fight the urge to pull away, the intensity of it nearly pushing me to come right then and there.

But he gives me no choice but to feel this pleasure. He kisses my clit, drawing it between his lips, and I run my nails along his bare back, watching as his muscles flex beneath his skin. I love the way he looks right now, so masculine, so strong, like he was made just to pleasure me.

As he begins to suck slightly on my clit, he looks up at me again, and our eyes meet. Fuck, the way he looks at me when he's going down on me, it's the hottest damn thing in the world.

I push my fingers through his hair, holding him there as he swirls his tongue around my clit once more, the pleasure coursing out in waves through my whole system.

He moves a hand between my legs, slipping a finger inside of me as he sucks and laps at my clit. My hips are beginning to move almost of their own accord now, pushing back against him, my body begging for as much of this as he can give me.

I can feel the orgasm building inside of me already. Just like he promised, the thought of my work has utterly vanished from my mind, and all I can think about is how close I am to the edge. He teases me with a slow kiss on my clit, making sure to use plenty of tongue as he moves his finger inside of me, reaching up so he can press the tip against my G-spot.

And it's that motion that takes me over the edge, the mess of feeling from the inside and the outside, all my most sensitive spots stimulated in the same instant. I cry out, my fingers digging into his hair, holding him there as I grind myself against his face. I know he will stay there for as long as I ask him to. He's never been selfish when it comes to getting me off.

But the intensity leaves my pussy feeling overstimulated, and I have no choice but to push him back, just long enough for me to catch my breath. My clit is still throbbing as he pulls back from him, grinning up at me, clearly a little cocky about how hard he just made me come.

He rises to his feet, planting his hands on either side of the chair, and kisses me on the mouth. I can taste myself smeared all over his lips, and I grip onto the nape of his neck, pulling him against me hungrily.

He presses his forehead to mine and lets out a chuckle. "See? I told you that I could get your mind off of it."

"Yeah, yeah," I reply, waving my hand slightly, trying to make like my legs aren't still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm he just gave me. "Whatever."

"Whatever?" he shoots back, playing at hurt. "Oh, I'm so not done with you yet..."

I giggle as he kisses me once more, deeper this time, his tongue slipping into my mouth. Winding him up a little is always the best way to get some seriously hot sex out of him. Though the two of us have overcome our differences for the most part, there's something sincerely fun about pushing his buttons once in a while, just to feel the way he fucks me in response.

"How about a glass of wine first?" I suggest as I close my laptop and slip my papers back into the drawer of my desk. "I could use some time away from all of this."

"I'll make us some food. I'm starving."

He straightens up and heads over to the kitchen, and I watch him go. I know there's so much going on outside the four walls of this place, but when the two of us are here together, I feel like I can forget all of it, for just a while. This apartment, him, they're my sanctuary, the place I can come to when the world is getting too much for me and all I want to do is hide.

This might have started as something fake, as a way to protect ourselves from the dangers that have pursued both of us because of who we are, the families we've been born into. But when I'm with him, I know that I'll never have to fear again. This man will do anything to protect me, support me, to love me.

And as I listen to him hum to himself in the kitchen, I know this is all I could ask for.