by Layla Frost
EPILOGUE
Juliet
A Few Days Later
“TIME TO GET out, Juliet.”
Damn.
The weather was scorching, but thanks to the overcast sky, the pool temp was perfect. I wasn’t ready to get out.
“Or you could come in,” I tried, treading water with just my head exposed to the heat.
Maximo crossed his arms. “Now, Juliet.”
Maybe I can stay in just a little longer…
Underwater, I tugged the two strings holding my top in place. I stood so he could see my breasts as I tossed the scrap of fabric his way and repeated, “Or you could come in.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his cock hardening to push against his joggers.
It didn’t matter how often it happened, I’d never get used to the way Maximo wanted me. It was a heady power that made me bold.
Bold enough to slip off my bottoms and toss them with my top.
That did it.
In record time, Maximo stripped and jumped into the pool, landing near me. He palmed my ass and easily lifted me in the water. I wrapped my legs around him as he began walking.
Disappointment filled me as we neared the ladder.
Oh well. I probably earned a punishment later, at least.
But Maximo didn’t go to the ladder. He took us through the waterfall to the hidden alcove. Turning me around, he set me on the bench and positioned me on my knees facing away from him.
“This is going to be hard and fast because we don’t have much time, so play with your clit.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“That’s my good girl,” he praised as he slammed into me.
My hand went between my legs to do as he said, the pad of my middle finger rubbing tight circles on my clit.
Each ruthless thrust took me higher, forcing moans that echoed in the small space. His hand suddenly covered my mouth, taking me by surprise.
But then I heard it.
Muffled voices.
There was no way they didn’t notice my bathing suit or Maximo’s discarded clothes.
Mortified, I tried to shift away, but Maximo wouldn’t let me.
Lowering his front to cover my back, his mouth was at my ear. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
Since his hand prevented me from speaking, I shook my head frantically.
“Play with your clit or I’m going to pull out of this sweet pussy and slam into your tight little ass instead. I’ll fuck it so hard, neighbors miles down the road will hear your screams.”
As tempting as that threat was, I resumed rubbing my clit. It was wicked and wrong and so damn hot.
His pace slowed, but the power in each plunge remained brutal.
He’s getting off on this depraved torment.
Despite our company, my body began to tingle and a rush of electricity and lava flowed through my veins.
And so am I.
Thankfully, the voices faded quickly because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out.
“You close?” Maximo asked, harsh and raw as his thrusts took me off my knees.
I nodded as my finger worked my clit with frenzied strokes. My release hit hard, crashing over me like the water around us. Even with his hand over my mouth, my cries were loud.
“Thank Christ,” he grunted before coming with a low groan.
At the sound and the feel of him, another aftershock of pleasure rippled through me.
Rather than giving me his weight or rearranging us so he could hold me like he usually did, Maximo backed away. “Jesus, you make me lose control.”
Of all the compliments Maximo gave—sweet or obscene—that was the most profound because he didn’t lose his carefully held control often. But I could make him do it.
I turned and smiled up at him.
“Don’t think you can give me that sexy smile and you’ll be off the hook,” he said, but the only heat in his voice was from lust not anger. “I’m still going to spank your ass raw for not listening to me, but it’ll have to wait because now we’re late.”
“For what?” I asked, but he didn’t answer.
Ducking out of the waterfall, he paused for a moment before turning back. “Come on.” When I swam out, he gave me the look and ordered, “Wait here.”
I did as he said, enjoying the view as he climbed out in all his naked glory. He grabbed my towel from the lounger and dried himself as he returned. “Out.”
My gaze lingered on his cut, tattooed body. “You know—”
“Now, Juliet.”
“Fine,” I said, but only because I was curious where we were going. I climbed the ladder and took the towel, wrapping it around myself as Maximo tugged on his joggers.
I ran through what I knew of his schedule but came up empty. There were no events at the resorts. No warehouse fights.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he started for the door.
“To get married.”
That was it.
That was all he said.
He didn’t ask.
Didn’t explain.
Didn’t even pause.
Simple as that.
“What?” I shouted, my heart freezing before pounding frantically in my chest as butterflies created a mosh pit in my belly.
He reached the door before turning around. “You better hurry or you’re getting married in that towel. We leave in an hour.”
“What?” I repeated, both because of the bombshell and the time crunch.
“I tried to give you more time.” He opened the door and closed it behind him.
I stood and stared, completely stunned.
Married.
He wants to get married?
Married!
Remembering the limited timeframe, I rushed after him, but he was nowhere to be found. I clutched the towel and ran upstairs.
When I opened the bedroom door, there was still no sign of Maximo. There was, however, a gray dress and shoes on the bed. It may not have been the traditional white, but there was no mistaking what it was.
Holy shit, a wedding dress.
Hurrying to shower off the chlorine, my thoughts raced like crazy, but none of it was bad. No panic. No terror. And not even the tiniest hint of doubt.
Just excitement.
Okay, confusion at the abrupt sneak attack and a hefty bit of shock, but mostly excitement.
After my shower, I blew out my hair. Knowing how much he loved my hair in a high ponytail, I pulled the bulk of it up but made it stylish by wrapping the remaining pieces around the elastic and sliding some gemmed bobby pins into place. I added loose curls to the ends and the pieces framing my face.
Once I was done with my makeup, I hurried into the bedroom. Skipping a bra, I tugged on a pair of minuscule lace panties before carefully sliding on the thick strapped dress over my head. It was understated but stunning, with a deep V between my breasts and a high slit up my thigh. Sitting carefully, I secured the matching strappy heels into place and moved to stand in front of the mirror.
I’m wearing a wedding dress.
Because I’m getting married.
To Maximo.
But not if I don’t hurry up.
After a few quick touch-ups, I rushed from the room. I expected to find Maximo in his office, but it was empty. As was the rest of the hall.
Nearing the stairs, voices traveled up from the foyer. I clutched the banister so I didn’t tumble down the steps on my trembling legs. I was grateful for my tight hold when I caught sight of Maximo. He must’ve showered in one of the other bathrooms because his hair was still damp. He wore the black suit and shirt combo I loved so much, but with the surprising addition of a gray tie that matched my dress.
When I dragged my eyes up his body to meet his, I lost my breath. There was so much intensity, fire, and love burning unrestrained in them. He stared as if watching me walk was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen.
He moved, reaching the bottom of the stairs as I did before takin
g me in his arms. I got the distinct impression—based on the desire in his brooding eyes and his hardness pressed against my belly—that he liked what he saw.
“You look so damn beautiful,” he whispered roughly, “and I’m so damn lucky you’re mine.”
My heart squeezed at his sweetly possessive words. I didn’t fight to block them out in a feeble effort to protect my heart.
He already owned my heart.
And I knew he’d die to protect it for me.
Before I could speak, he said, “We have to go.”
But he didn’t release me or move.
After a long moment, Ash cleared his throat. “Boss.”
“Right.” Maximo took my hand and walked to the waiting Lincoln. Once we were in the backseat, Ash began driving.
Unable to hold it in, I asked the question that kept ricocheting through my head and dancing on my tongue. “Are we actually getting married?”
“Yes,” Maximo said simply.
“Like, legally-legit married?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even ask me,” I pointed out.
“I told you things would be done my way and that I’d seldom ask, even for major things. Is that a problem?”
That was true, he had told me. I just hadn’t realized it would apply to lifelong, legal commitments.
Concern filled his gaze as his brow furrowed. “I asked you a question, Juliet, and I expect an answer.”
Was it a problem that Maximo Black wanted to marry me?
Hell no.
It was the opposite of a problem.
Shaking my head emphatically, I smiled so wide, my cheeks felt as though they’d split. “I’m just in shock. It’s very sudden.”
“Not for me. I’ve wanted to marry you for months, but I knew you weren’t ready. I’ve been patient. I’ve waited. And I’m done. I want you tied to me in every way you can be, wrapped up like I am.”
“I already am.”
“And now it’ll be official. You’ll be completely mine.”
I knew what people would think if they heard the way he talked. They’d think he was deranged. Dysfunctional.
Obsessed.
And maybe he was.
But so was I.
Because his possessive, controlling words didn’t scare me. They thrilled me. They wrapped around me like a security blanket, warm and comforting. They flowed through my veins, breathing life into me and filling my heart until I thought it would burst with happiness.
We rode the rest of the way in heavy silence, lost in our own thoughts. My impatience and excitement grew in equal measure with each passing mile.
After a while, I recognized one of the buildings in the distance.
“Are we getting married at Nebula?” I asked.
“Yes. We’re staying there tonight and catching a flight tomorrow afternoon.”
I’d never flown before. In all our times moving, we’d just loaded our limited belongings into our car and a small rented trailer we’d towed behind us.
As terrified of heights as I was, the thought of flying was actually exciting.
Another in a long line of new experiences thanks to Maximo.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’ll see.”
My curiosity couldn’t leave it at that. “Is it on the west coast or east coast?”
“It’s not in this country.”
“Is this why you had me get my passport?” I asked. He’d had Marco take me before a trip to the fabric store, claiming it was so I could travel for business with him.
“Yes.”
“That was months ago.”
“I told you I’ve waited months.”
Before I could respond, Maximo unlatched my seatbelt and nudged me toward the door I belatedly noticed the valet was holding open. Another took Ash’s spot in the driver’s seat.
Once I was out, Maximo wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me through the packed building. We got into the elevator, and I got my first glimpse of us in the reflection of the gleaming steel. It was no wonder people had stared.
He looked powerful and commanding in his suit.
I looked lovely in my dress.
We looked beautiful.
Like we belonged together.
The elevator opened, and we stepped out into an open room with twisting light features hanging from the ceiling and a long bar to one side. Ash kept going toward a set of frosted double doors, but Maximo stopped and turned me to face him.
“I wanted to marry you at one of my properties.” He glanced around. “Someplace I’ll see often.”
“It’s perfect.”
I’d have married him at any Elvis chapel, gimmicky destination, or street corner.
His eyes seared into mine as he finally asked, “Do you want to marry me, little dove?”
My answer was immediate and honest. “More than anything.”
“I’ll control you, every aspect of your life,” Maximo warned, similar to when we’d first become us. “I’ll always be your Daddy. I’ll tell you what to do and punish you. I’ll love you and work every damn day to make sure you never regret giving me you. This will be your life from now on. Is that what you want?”
“‘Til the day I die,” I said, giving him the words he often gave me.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an engagement ring before sliding it onto my finger.
It’s important to commemorate our two-hour engagement.
“Ready?” he asked, though he was already walking.
“Wait.” I didn’t move, and Maximo stopped, worry evident on his tense face. Undoing his tie, I slid it free and tossed it onto a potted plant. “You don’t wear ties if you can help it.” I popped his top button free. “Perfect.”
It was a small gesture, but Maximo kissed me like it was huge. When he pulled away, he looked even more impatient as he guided me to the frosted double doors.
They opened on our approach, and I lost my tenuous hold on my tears.
The balcony was bursting with beautiful flowers and greenery. Like the night sky, twinkle lights arched in a canopy over us. With the sun setting in the backdrop, it was magical.
A fairy tale with a princess and her villain.
Maximo
Two Years Later
“Where are my pills?”
I fought to hide my smile as my frazzled wife rushed into my office. She had a soft measuring tape draped over her neck, pins stuck in her shirt, and multiple colored pencils jammed through her hair.
I’ll never get over how damn beautiful she is.
“Come here,” I ordered, evading her question. Not because I didn’t want to answer it, I just enjoyed playing with my little dove.
She didn’t move. “My pills?”
“Now, Juliet.”
At my tone, she rushed over and took her spot on my lap.
I started pulling the colored pencils from her hair. “How’s the dress?”
“Good. I finally found the perfect color combination to complement the design so it doesn’t look like a clown outfit or something out of an eighties club.”
“I knew you’d figure it out. You always do.”
Even if her outfits were ugly, I’d have secretly bought every last one if it meant she was happy. But that hadn’t been necessary. She’d made Dove Couture a success all on her own.
Ever since consigning her dresses with Hilda’s, she’d had more order requests than she could accept. We’d knocked down one of the walls to expand her workspace into a spare bedroom, and it wouldn’t be long before we’d have to expand again. People liked her designs and the approachableness in the style. It fit with Vegas life.
I’d told her she could put her own store in Black Moon once it opened, but she’d turned me down. She didn’t want to be so overloaded, she lost the availability to create for fun when inspiration hit.
I’d always support her, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy she’d declined her own store. It would
’ve been an intensive time commitment, and I was a greedy fuck. I liked having her time and attention to myself.
But I was ready to share her.
“I threw them out,” I told her, pulling the sewing pins free and dropping them into the container I kept on my desk for that purpose.
“Threw what out?”
“Your pills.”
Her brows lowered as she leaned back to look at me. “Why?”
“Because it’d be hard for me to put my baby in you if you’re on them.”
Her lips parted as she sat in stunned silence for a moment. “You want to have a baby?”
“Two babies. Maybe three.” I removed the tape measure last but kept it close in case I wanted to tie her wrists with it. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“Babies? Plural?”
“Is that a problem, Juliet?”
Usually my tone would make her eyes go hooded, but instead they were filled with panic. “I… It’s just…”
Softening my expression, I cupped her head. “It’s what?”
A tear streaked down her cheek followed closely by another. And another. “What if I’m a bad mom? Neither of my parents were a shining example.” Her words were choked when she forced out, “What if I fuck up our kid?”
Christ, she broke my heart.
With each passing day, Juliet had managed to shake off more of the damage from her parents. For the most part, she lived free from their toxic memories.
Or, as she said, she lived carefree.
But every once in a while, their ghosts came to haunt her.
“Your parents were a good example of who you didn’t want to be, and you’ve already proven you’re not them. You’re selfless, loving, patient, and everything they never were.” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in my mind when I said, “You’ll be the best mom.”
She didn’t speak, but her tears slowed.
Opening the top drawer on my desk, I grabbed her birth control pack and handed it to her. “We’ll wait until you’re ready, little dove. And if you never are, that’s fine, too. But don’t let your shitty parents control you.”
She gave a sniffling laugh. “I know, that’s your job.”
“‘Til the day I die,” I shot back with no hint of humor.
She fell silent again, flipping the pack in her hand. “You really think I’d be a good mom?”
“The best.”
“Would we still have time together?”