Indebted Epilogue

by Pepper Winters

  Alone.

  Swiping a hand through his slicked back hair, Jethro traversed the distance between us. We didn’t speak as the air intensified and love poured from his heart to mine.

  The white gold wedding band I’d had fashioned along with a few black diamonds I’d sourced at Diamond Alley graced his finger—absorbing the light rather than sparkling—sucking its life inward, protecting its secrets.

  The matching ring hummed on my finger. The large midnight stone grew heavier the closer Jethro came.

  “We did it.” His voice teased with disbelief. “We’re married.”

  I nodded, a little breathless and a lot nervous. “We are.”

  “You’re mine.”

  “I’m yours.”

  “There are no more debts. No more threats.”

  I moved toward him, stepping onto the silver rug he stood on. Our bodies swayed as a current rocked the yacht, but our eyes never unlocked. “We’re free.”

  Breathing hard, Jethro reached for me. His arms wrapped around me, gathering me toward him so the white silk of my gown rippled over my skin and floor.

  Stars and moon above were the only elements invited into our room. The skylight above had a ladder granting access to the private deck. The nose of the boat was out of bounds to anyone. We could make love down here with the sky as company or make our way upside and fuck with the air licking our skin.

  We could travel the world.

  We could kiss and touch and never have to hide our happiness from anyone.

  We have so much to look forward to.

  Jethro’s gaze drifted to my collar. His tongue swept over his bottom lip as the faint sparkle of diamonds kissed his chin. “You should know something.”

  I froze in his arms, my heart rate spiking. “Know what?”

  He shifted me in his embrace, cupping my throat with gentle fingers. His thumb ran along the diamonds. “You admitted you didn’t want me to find a way to remove this. You’ll never wear another necklace as long as you live. No matter where you go. No matter what you do, this collar will be with you every step.”

  “I know. I want it to be that way.” Resting my hands on his hips, I frowned a little, trying to understand his point. “You put it on me, Jethro. It will stay on until I die.”

  His back tightened, the muscles either side of his spine bunching beneath my fingertips. “That’s how I view what happened today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His forehead furrowed, shadowing his golden eyes. “I mean—marriage to me isn’t a simple ceremony and celebration. Marriage is like your collar. A one-time deal. Never to break, binding us together until death do us part. Just like there will never be another necklace, there will never be goodbye between us. No opportunity to sever what we’ve found.”

  My tummy twisted as flutters entered my core. “That’s how I view it, too. It wasn’t a meaningless vow, Kite. I willingly said the words.”

  “But do you fully comprehend that this is it? No other men. No flirtations or dalliances. Me. I’m the last you’ll ever have.” His head dropped. “Is that enough for you?”

  I laughed softly. I couldn’t help it. “You’re seriously asking me if you’re enough for me?” My heart overflowed. “Jethro you’re too much. You’re everything I could ever hope for. Why are you feeling insecure?” I snuggled closer, pressing my cheek on his lapel, avoiding the diamond pin through the fabric. “After everything we’ve been through, everything we said today and yesterday, you’re afraid I’ll divorce you and run?”

  Jethro didn’t respond. His chest rose and fell, his arms binding tighter as if he didn’t trust me not to vanish.

  I let silence and the creaking of the yacht ease some of his fear before murmuring, “I suggest you remember the day I ran from you after the welcome luncheon because that’s the one and only time I’ll ever run away. I chose you with my eyes open, Kite. I know what our connection will mean for you and the struggle I’ll sometimes have to keep giving you what you need. But I’m not a little girl. I’m a woman who’s chosen her soul-mate. I’m strong enough to love you unconditionally. I’m smart enough to know some days will be good and some days will be bad. And I’m brave enough to solemnly swear that we will be together until the end.

  “I don’t want anyone else. You’re my best friend, my rescuer. You’re the man I was born for as decreed by six-hundred-years of pacts. Don’t doubt what we have on the eve of what could be the happiest time of our lives.”

  Jethro suddenly groaned, wrapping his arms so tight he bruised me. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I doubted.”

  “I know why.”

  He raised my chin with a fingertip. “Why?”

  I smiled, loving the way the moonlight highlighted the silver in his hair, making him look part god, part majestic sculpture. “Because everything is so good now. It’s hard not to suspect it will all vanish after a lifetime of having everything you loved stripped away.”

  He paused, biting his inner cheek. “You’re right.”

  “Of course, I’m right.”

  His lips tilted crookedly. “To this day, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m never letting you go.”

  “Good.” Standing on my tiptoes, I whispered, “Now, enough talk of divorce. Let’s enjoy being married first. Stop speaking and take me to bed, Mr. Hawk.”

  He jolted, a growl escaping. Letting me go, he grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward the towering mattress and turned down sheets. “It would be my pleasure, Ms. Wea—” His mouth shot closed, his eyes clouding.

  I knew his thoughts. Mine had already been over the technicalities. My father had changed his last name to match my mother’s as per the rules of the Debt Inheritance. By right, Jethro should become a Weaver.

  However, I had no intention of stripping the heir of Hawksridge his name. The very name he’d always strived to earn and change for the better.

  Sitting on the bed in a shower of white lace, I patted the mattress beside me. “I think the term of address you’re looking for is Mrs. Hawk.”

  His eyes shot bronze. “Are you sure? You don’t have to take my name. You can keep Weaver if you want—”

  “What I want is to belong to you. I want the world to know it. I want the ghosts who battled together for so long to hear it. I want us to become one.” Taking his hand, I yanked him beside me. “Try again, only this time, use the right name.”

  Pressing my shoulders, he slowly guided me onto my back. His breath skated over my mouth as he lowered himself beside me. “I’m going to love you until my heart stops beating and then beyond…Mrs. Hawk.”

  I shivered. “I’m glad. Because I had the exact same plan, Mr. Hawk.”

  He grinned, bowing his head to kiss me.

  My heart raced as his tongue slipped past my lips, seducing me with slow licks. His fingers slinked into my hair, pulling free pins and clips, letting the black strands cascade into a mess on the sheets. Once every decoration and slide was free, he massaged my scalp, dislodging a few remaining petals from the rice and flower confetti.

  “As much as I love you in this dress, I think it’s time it disappeared, don’t you?”

  I nodded.

  Jethro was mine in every possible way. He would continue to need me. I would continue to need him. We were no longer on our own but a partnership, lovers…a family.

  The stress of the wedding left my bloodstream, relaxing my shoulders into the springy bed.

  His hands slipped behind me, rolling me onto my stomach as he set to the task of undoing fifty-two pearl buttons down my back.

  The panels of lace decorated my skin, revealing the muscles of my spine and risqué glimpses beneath. I didn’t think I’d have time to sew something so delicate, but it’d been cathartic for me to sketch and create something so stunningly simple but intricately beautiful.

  Goosebumps erupted as Jethro’s knuckles brushed my skin, slowly releasing me from the gown. Half-way down my back, he swallowed a groan. “Goddammit,
I want to rip this off you. This is taking far too long.”

  I laughed into the sheets. “You rip it and I’ll make you fix it. Patience is a virtue, husband.”

  His touch halted. “What did you call me?”

  I looked over my shoulder. “Husband.” Loving the way his eyes hooded, I breathed, “That’s what you are now. Husband. My husband.”

  His mouth parted, dangerous darkness stealing over him. “Say it again.”

  I didn’t care my dress was only half undone, I rolled onto my back, slipping beneath his inert hands. “Husband.”

  His gaze dropped to the front corset of my gown. “That word makes me hard.”

  The spaghetti straps slid off my shoulders, tickling my skin. “How hard?”

  “So fucking hard.”

  “Show me.”

  He gulped. “Show you?”

  I nodded, reaching for his tented slacks. “I want to see.”

  Darting out of my grip, he climbed off the bed, a slow burn building in his gaze. “Why do you want to see?”

  Coyness slipped into my blood. He wanted to play? I could play.

  Sitting up on my knees, I struggled against the imprisoning nature of the silk layers and licked my lips. “Because it’s mine and I want to see what my marriage has bought me.”

  His hands fisted. “Bought you?”

  “Uh huh.” The conversation turned anchor-heavy with want, sinking through the yacht to the seabed below. I’d never been so needy, so ready for sex. I wanted him desperately, but at the same time, I loved the anticipation, the building joy that we could touch whenever we wanted but chose a little self-denial.

  Jethro’s hands flew to his belt. Never taking his eyes off me, he unbuckled the clasp, slipping the black leather from the loops. “If you get to see me, I want something in return.”

  “Oh?” My knickers grew shamefully wet. “What’s that?”

  Taking a step back, he crooked his finger. “Get off the bed.”

  Without a word, I obeyed.

  My bare toes hit the soft carpet. My high heels had fallen off as Jethro carried me down the gangway to our room after leaving the party.

  “Take your dress off.” Jethro’s left hand looped his belt tight around his fist while his right one disappeared into his black boxer-briefs.

  The train of my dress resembled a wake of lace, the undone buttons giving me enough room to slink out of it and let the combined corset and overlay slip to the floor.

  I stood before him in the sheer teddy I’d had Jasmine order for me online. She’d hidden it for me so it would be a surprise on our wedding night.

  Tonight.

  We’re married.

  The words sporadically kept popping into my head like toys on Christmas morning.

  I’m a wife.

  I have a husband.

  There was nothing more erotic than that. Nothing more tantalising or desirous.

  Grabbing his cock, Jethro swallowed hard. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

  The intensity in his eyes stripped me bare. I struggled to keep my hands by my side and not pluck at the garter belt attached to the unsubstantial G-string or run my prickling palms over the silky pantyhose.

  I let Jethro drink me in because I had every intention of doing the same.

  My eyes were selfish. My body greedy. My soul hungry.

  “I want to bite every inch of you. I want to rip off your lingerie and take you hard. I want to bury you in my arms and never let you fucking go.”

  Jethro’s voice mimicked a tidal wave on sand, velvet and soothing but rough and wild.

  His hand worked harder, his quads tensing beneath his slacks. The action alone made my nipples throb with need.

  “I can’t stop staring at you.” Jethro’s jaw clenched as he stroked faster. “Nothing else matters knowing you’re mine and I can touch you, taste you, fuck you however I want.”

  The urge to touch him overwhelmed me. I wanted to consummate our marriage.

  Now.

  However, Jethro drove me to breaking point. The least I could do was return the favour. Drifting my hands from my throat to my breasts, I tweaked my nipples through the sheer teddy. “I love knowing you’re mine. That your fingers belong inside me, your cock was made to pleasure me, your mouth designed to kiss me every day.”

  Jethro stumbled. “You have no idea. Every day, Nila. Every fucking day I’m going to give you those three things.”

  The room swam with lust, inviting the ocean below to transform air into liquid and oxygen into molten heat.

  Dropping my hands to my pussy, I fingered myself through the lace. “I want to see you. I want to see your hard, long cock. I want to get on my knees and suck you. I want to feel you shatter and lick up every drop.”

  “Fucking hell.” Jethro broke first.

  My heart leapt with triumph as he stalked toward me, wrenched his hand from his trousers, and grabbed mine to replace it. His other hand latched around my nape, the buckle of his belt clinking against my collar. “Touch me, Needle. Fucking feel how much I want you.”

  My fingers instantly obeyed, stealing his invitation and invading his underwear. The moment my touch met velveteen steel, his stomach rippled with tension.

  Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he growled, “I want your lips around my dick. I want your tongue lapping what I give you. But for now, now, I can’t fucking think straight. I can’t do this anymore. I need to be inside you. Immediately.”

  His lips smashed against mine, his groan slipping deep into my chest. I battled his tongue, hints of violence and danger unravelled my decorum faster and faster.

  The kiss turned fatal, killing off any last worries or maladies.

  The ignition between us turned viperous as our past was suddenly deleted. The lid on our previous lifetimes snapped closed with finality. And a blank new page spread out before us. We were the quill and ink ready to pen a new chapter.

  “Nila—” Jethro’s touch turned savage, his tongue making mad love to mine with unscripted synchronicity. His touch became a Ferris wheel of caresses and demands, pushing me onto the bed again.

  Splaying my hips, he stepped between my spread legs. The moment I rested on my back, he ripped at my knickers, yanking them down my legs. The garter belt fastenings pinged away, relinquishing the pantyhose and leaving me bare.

  I couldn’t breathe. I could barely stay within the boundaries of my skin as Jethro slammed to his knees and yanked me closer to his mouth.

  His breath seduced me first, breezing over my clit, followed by filthy, delectable words. “I have no doubt we’ll fight and make-up. We’ll spend every day sharing a different experience, but this…this is the best part of today.” His fingers danced over my entrance, teasing me with distraction. “I’m going to eat you, Needle. I’m going to lick and fuck you with my tongue before I fuck you as my wife.”

  His fingertips flew to my pantyhosed thighs, holding me down. “You’re the sunbeam to my black diamond…”

  My heart billowed at the poetic confession. “Jet—”

  My hands dove into his hair, looping through the strands. He lived in my heartbeat, my breath, my thoughts. And now, he lived in my soul because we’d traded one for the other with our vows.

  His tongue touched me first, a tentative lick—followed by the wet heat of his mouth. I bucked, my fingers clutching his hair for an anchor. Dizziness took me hostage; I didn’t know if it was vertigo or Jethro’s mastery.

  He kissed my clit, moving to my entrance with a pointed tongue. The first quest inside me wrenched a moan from my chest. A very loud moan.

  I craved more, more, more.

  Tugging on his hair, I arched my hips, demanding what I needed.

  Jethro chuckled, turning my world topsy turvy. “Not enough for you, greedy wife?”

  His head ducked, his tongue pushing inside me…deep inside.

  “Oh, God.” My entire body contracted, begging for everything he wanted to give. The first ripple of an orgasm made me gasp.
Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

  “No, not yet.” Jethro stopped, ending the ladder of bliss.

  I growled, pushing my cheek into the bedding. “Tease.”

  He blew on my pussy, drying his saliva and activating a whole other world of enslavement.

  “I don’t want you coming. Not until you’re screaming.”

  My eyes met his. “I’ll scream. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  He grinned. “I’ll remember that next time you’re arguing with me over some mundane thing.”

  “Our life will never be mundane.”

  His gaze clouded a little. “You’re right. You’ve shackled yourself to a VEP.”

  Smiling, I stroked his bristled cheek. “Wrong, I shackled myself with a diamond heir who I share six-hundred-years of history with. That alone means our future will never be drab.”

  His head tilted in my hold, his glistening lips pressing against my palm. “You’re right.”

  Tearing his face from my touch, his mouth landed back on my pussy. “Let’s start rewriting history right now.”

  His tongue dived back inside me, tearing away comprehension.

  I writhed as the promise of a release built quickly and sharp. A violent crackle of lust doused my system as his tongue thrust so deep, I convulsed on the covers.

  Gone was the patience of making me wait. Gone were the threats of wanting to make me scream. It was no longer a threat but a promise.

  He would make me scream—with or without my permission.

  A release, as well as the sharpest cry, percolated in my heart like bubbling champagne ready to escape the bottle of my body.

  “Will you scream?”

  His tongue penetrated again, destroying every last wall and filling up every remaining crevice inside me. I became whole as his groans vibrated against my slippery flesh, the physicality of sex turning into an emotional reward the longer he licked.

  Pleasure built and built and built as his rhythmic sucking destroyed me.

  “Scream, Nila.” Two fingers suddenly replaced his tongue, spearing deep, tearing my orgasm from eager into existence.

  I had no choice.

  I came.

  And came.

  And came.

  Two fingers became three, twisting me open, dragging far more pleasure than I thought possible.