by Eva Ashwood
When I come, I do scream Zaid’s name—although it’s muffled by Hale’s cock. A second later, Hale spills inside my mouth, letting out a stream of curses as his cum hits the back of my throat. I swallow as much as I can, lapping at him as he slowly withdraws. I’m panting, gasping, and when he bends down and lifts my head in one large palm, I slam my lips into his, kissing him frantically as my soul returns to earth.
Hale and I break apart as Zaid tugs me toward him, and when he slides inside me again, I know he won’t last long. I can see it in his face, in the ravenous desire that gleams in his eyes.
He fucks me like he’ll never get enough, his fingers digging into my hips. His teeth scrape against my collarbone, and he bites down hard on the place where my neck and shoulder meet as he comes hard.
His body goes lax on top of mine, his cock pulsing inside me a few more times.
“Oh, shit. You wrecked me, kitten. You fucking killed me.”
With a groan, he lifts his head to kiss me.
Somewhere next to us, I hear Lucas chuckle. When Zaid draws out and flops onto the bed beside me, his brother leans over. “You good, princess? You want more?”
I grin. My body feels like it’s been through a marathon, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to move or walk tomorrow. But I don’t care.
“Of you? Always.”
He smiles back, cocking an eyebrow. “Good fucking answer.”
I reach for him, and he leans over me and kisses me thoroughly. When we break apart, his hands are gentle as he rolls me over and draws me up to my hands and knees. He teases me with his cock for a few minutes, giving me a chance to recover a little as he slides through my wet folds.
He’s so close, his cock so near to breaching my entrance every time he moves his hips. It doesn’t take long before I’m arching my back and pressing my ass back toward him, begging him silently for more.
Running a hand down my spine, he lets out a low groan. His hands grab my ass cheeks, kneading and massaging the flesh, and I look up as he begins to press slowly into me, desperate to find a pair of gray eyes.
Ciro kneels a little way away on the bed, watching us, his gaze fixed on me as he strokes himself. I lick my lips, mewling softly as Lucas bottoms out inside me.
“Ciro,” I whisper. “Can I…?”
He swallows, then nods, moving closer as he holds my gaze. Lucas continues to fuck me from behind as I lean forward and wrap my lips around Ciro’s cock, taking over as he releases it from his grasp. Trusting the two of them to keep me steady, I hollow my cheeks and take as much of him in as I can, loving the tortured groan that spills from his lips.
I’ve only done this to him once before, and I love it as much this time as I did then. The look on his face is so fiercely beautiful that I can’t tear my gaze away, watching him through my eyelashes as I suck his cock.
After watching what Hale and Zaid did to me, I think he was close to the edge already. When he pulses and swells in my mouth, I suck him harder, running my tongue up and down his length and swallowing when he hits the back of my throat.
“Grace.” He grunts my name as he grabs a fistful of my hair, his hips jerking as he floods my mouth with cum. “Fuck, sunshine. Oh, fuck…”
My stomach clenches at the sound of that name. He called me that once before, and hearing him repeat it makes something in my heart crack open wide, spilling warmth through my chest. Lifting one hand, I grab his ass, swallowing every bit of his release as Lucas curses behind me.
Ciro pulls out of my mouth at the same time Lucas’s fingers find my clit, and the two of us fall over the cliff together, grinding and moaning as we both come hard.
My arms give out, but Lucas catches me, wrapping his arm around me before we both sink down to the mattress. He slides out of me, and a gush of cum spills down my thigh.
I’m sticky and sweaty, so exhausted and sated that I can barely keep my eyes open. I lost track of where everyone was during the middle of things, but in the aftermath, I can feel all of my men. They move closer to me, all finding a way touch me somehow—to remind me of their presence, of the connection between us.
My eyes slip closed, and I doze contentedly for a while. At some point, one of them gets up and grabs a few towels, and they clean up a little. I murmur something when I feel warm hands on my thighs, a wet cloth wiping up the cum that coats my skin.
“Shh, princess.” Lucas kisses my temple. “We’ve got you. Just sleep.”
I do sleep.
I sleep better and harder than I have in weeks, surrounded by the four men I love. The four men who are mine as much as I am theirs.
When I wake up again, it’s barely light out, probably just before dawn. I’m not quite sure why I’m awake, and I roll over, planning to go back to sleep, when something draws my attention.
Blinking my eyes into focus, I lift my head a little and gaze across the room.
Ciro is sitting in the chair where I found him when I woke up the other morning, his posture relaxed and his legs stretched out in front of him. At first, I think he’s asleep just like the other men who surround me on the bed, but when he moves his head a little, I catch the glint of his eyes in the dim light.
Careful not to wake the others, I slide off the bed. I’m still naked, and so are all the men. I have a feeling everyone passed out quickly after our little orgy.
But did Ciro?
Or did he escape to the chair as soon as everyone was asleep, keeping himself separate to make sure he wouldn’t hurt any of us?
My heart aches a little at the thought, but I try not to let myself dwell on that pain. He’s changed so much in the time I’ve known him, done so much to beat back his demons. It’s a process, a constant battle, and not something that can be solved with the snap of a finger.
“Ciro?” I whisper as I pad toward him. “Are you okay?”
He nods, watching me as I approach, his gaze trained on me. He’s still naked too, and he looks like some kind of beautiful predator, wild and dangerous.
“Do you still not trust yourself?” I ask, keeping my voice soft. “Is that why you came over here?”
“No, that’s not it.” He shakes his head, then stops, considering. “Well, not the only reason. I’m getting better. I haven’t had as many bad nights lately.” He shrugs. “I just wanted to look.”
My brows draw together a little. “Look at what?”
A smile curves the corners of his lips, and he glances at the bed where I was lying with the men just a moment ago. “At my family.”
The simple happiness in his voice almost knocks me off my feet. I stand there frozen for a moment, absorbing his words. Then I step forward, moving carefully as I crawl onto his lap.
He welcomes me, helping me settle into place with my knees on either side of his hips. He catches my face in his hands and smiles at me, and I rest my own hands over his, leaning in to kiss him.
His family.
Our family.
That’s what this is—what this is the beginning of. Something bigger than I could’ve ever imagined.
I kiss him with everything I have, pouring my emotions into the connection between our lips. And when I feel his cock stiffen beneath me, I roll my hips against him a little, feeding that connection between our souls and our bodies until it burns hotter and hotter.
He lets out a quiet noise, and I draw back, locking gazes with him. Then I reach between us and stroke his length lightly, loving the way his eyelids droop in response. I fist him at the base, angling his shaft to meet my pussy as I rise up and sink back down, impaling myself on his cock.
As I take him inside me, we both watch each other like we’re seeing each other for the first time, and when he’s fully rooted in my warmth, he wraps his arms around me, holding me close.
We move like that in the early morning light, our bodies rocking gently against each other, our soft sighs and moans filling the quiet room until we finally fall apart in each other’s arms.
And it’s everything I could
’ve ever hoped for.
No.
It’s more.
25
Grace
Six Months Later
I take my normal seat at Hale’s right-hand side—a position that speaks for itself.
Hale never made any kind of official announcement about my role in the syndicate, and no one ever bothered to ask, question, or challenge him. It happened as naturally as anything after the shit that went down in the warehouse months ago.
Seated beside Hale, my position speaks power. Influence. All of the things that my mother murdered in cold blood to get, all the things she craved and fought for. The things she betrayed my father for.
But in the end, she got nothing. Her precious kingdom came burning down around her.
Because of me.
From the time they rescued me from my wedding, nearly a year ago now, I’ve been a valuable asset to the mafia in more ways than one. Once, I was a bargaining piece, the daughter of a man who’d held power in the syndicate, a man falsely accused of being a traitor. Then I was a pawn, a piece to be played in my mother’s sick game.
Now, I have a voice. I’m respected. I’m even feared—in the same way Hale is respected by his captains and soldiers and feared by those who would threaten his family.
Hale slides his hand down my thigh beneath the table. It’s not a suggestive gesture, but a comfortable one. Possessive and affectionate. It’s a gesture he does without thinking these days, as if always needing to remind himself that I’m close by his side and safe.
I give him a reassuring smile as the rest of the captains come filtering in one by one, taking their usual seats around the heavy oak table. When Lucas and Zaid come in, they each give me a playful wink, making me fight down a smile. Ciro gives me a nod, his gray eyes warming the instant he sees me.
He’s been healing.
Slowly. Sometimes painfully. But with an unceasing march toward something better.
Ever since the night that each of the men professed their love for me, something has changed in Ciro. Like flowers growing in a graveyard, making darkness and death beautiful somehow, Ciro has become more open, more at peace with himself.
His demons will always chase him no matter what, for the rest of his life, but that’s why he has each of us. Me. Hale. The twins. We’re all here for him, and we’ll fight by his side anytime the darkness in him becomes too much.
Hale’s grip gives my thigh a quick squeeze before letting go and turning his attention to the men gathered around the table. He rests his elbows on the dark, polished wood and leans forward a little, and the room goes silent.
“We have cause for celebration today,” Hale says, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Even he has changed in the past several months, healing in his own way. The transition into leading the Novak Syndicate was hard on him, guilt and pain at his father’s death making it difficult for him to fully accept the role. But now, he sits in the place of honor at the head of the table as if he was born to occupy that seat—which I think even Damian Novak would agree, he was.
This is his birthright.
His responsibility.
And he carries it well.
“The last members of the Rook Syndicate have been rooted out and are currently in holding,” he announces, and I catch Zaid and Lucas smirking.
It was intel the twins found that helped us track down the final holdouts of the mafia organization my mother built. They were trying to rebuild it, probably hoping to pick up where Camilla left off, but we’ll make sure that never happens.
There will be other upstarts who try to seize more power than they should. There will be other organizations that challenge us. But the Rooks and all that they stand for?
They’re done.
The trafficking ring fell apart after the FBI bust. I was right—it was a huge coup for Agent Brady, and more than enough to satisfy his agency, at least for the time being. It made national news, my mother’s face splashed across headlines. I spoke to Lucy briefly in the aftermath, just long enough to make sure she was okay and to thank her for helping us expose Camilla’s operation.
“Every day,” Hale continues, his tone serious, “we’re getting closer to returning the Novak name to what it once was in Chicago. We honor the memory of my father by pursuing the goals he laid out for this syndicate. But we won’t stop there. We will become bigger. Better. Stronger and safer. Feared by our enemies, but just as importantly—respected by our allies.”
There’s a chorus of agreement, several men nodding their heads.
“That being said.” Hale chuckles. “There’s a group that’s been encroaching on our new territory in Humboldt Park. We’re still securing that area, so it’s important to squash their effort to get a toe-hold there.” He turns to me, warmth shining in his dark blue eyes. “Grace, do you have any thoughts?”
In spite of myself, a smile pulls at my lips.
This is another one of the ways that things have changed in the past several months. Not only have I found my place within the syndicate and with the four men I love, but Hale has openly offered me a seat at the table—a share in everything, including his power.
Even Damian’s old captains have learned to respect me, despite the hatred they once felt for my family. My father has been exonerated, the resentment and anger that was once directed at him transferred entirely to the person who deserves it.
Camilla.
I once told her I’m not like her. That I would never want to be like her.
In some respects, I guess you could say I am like my mother. I was born to play the role of mafia queen, born to give orders and flex power.
Once I knew that Hale welcomed me by his side, I fell into the role very easily. The life I built for myself in Washington, the suburban home I hoped to have with Brian? All of that always felt like an act, like a costume I was wearing that didn’t fit quite right.
But here, at the head of this large table, seated beside the men who stole me from that fake life, I feel completely comfortable. At ease.
As if I was born for this just as much as Hale was.
I pull my gaze away from his and address my answer to all of the men gathered around. “They need to get the message that this territory is ours, clearly. But since it’s still a disputed area, maybe we can make a deal with them. Give them rights to carry out their business with a small kickback to us, in exchange for their help in protecting the territory.”
“I like that,” Zaid offers, grinning at me. “We could always take them on directly later if we need to, but this keeps things nice and civil and helps us solidify power in that area. Win-win.”
A few other men speak up, offering their opinions and thoughts as we formulate a plan and discuss details.
As the meeting wraps up, Hale stands and straightens his jacket, offering me a hand. I take it with a knowing smile, and he pulls it to his lips, kissing my knuckles smoothly.
“Ready to go home?” he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips over the shell of my ear.
Ciro steps up behind me, encasing my body between his and Hale’s. I love the possessive familiarity of his touch as his hand comes to rest on my hip.
“Home sounds good.”
I grin as the last few men leave the meeting room, their gazes flicking to us as Zaid and Lucas join the three of us. It’s no secret among the Novak Syndicate that I live with all four men.
That I love all four men.
And that they love me back.
It’s unconventional, but no one has raised any issue with it. The organization is flourishing, and that matters to these men more than our slightly unique relationship dynamic.
Zaid steps closer, shifting my hair over my shoulder so his lips can find my neck. When Lucas approaches on the other side, a pleasurable shiver runs up my spine. I’m surrounded on all four sides, and the feeling of touching all of them at once makes my heart beat a little faster.
Once, about a month ago, all four of them fucked me
in this room—on the table, against the wall. Ciro laid me down on my back and ate me out like his life depended on it while the other three watched, then Zaid and Lucas made me come so hard a second time that I screamed their names. By the time Hale slid inside me, I’m sure everyone in the building knew exactly what we were doing in here.
But I didn’t care. I still don’t.
Because these men are mine, and I’m theirs.
And I want the whole fucking world to know.
Epilogue
GRACE
One Year Later
When we get back from celebrating at The Blind Pour, everyone is slightly buzzed, but not me. I didn’t drink all night, and I know the men noticed. All four of them shot me quizzical looks at one point or another. Usually, I can sling back whiskey with the best of them, holding my own with the generous servings Charlie is known to pour.
But not tonight.
It was just a precaution on my part, since I don’t know anything for certain yet. I made an excuse that I’d had a bit of a headache earlier in the day, and that seemed to ease Ciro’s worry. He’s the most observant of my four men, and I could see concern darkening his eyes when I turned down a glass of Glenfiddich.
I can’t wait any longer though. I need to know for sure.
Nerves bubble in my stomach. It’s normal to be a couple days late, right? It’s not like every period is going to be spot on. In fact, the period I should’ve had before my almost-wedding was completely skipped. My doctor at the time said it was common, just because of stress.
But I highly doubt that’s the case now.
Sure, there’s the usual stress that comes with mafia business, but that’s nothing to lose a period over.