50. EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

Rome

“Can I get you something to drink, Ms. Palmer?” Sadie, the flight attendant, smiles at Quinlan first. “A mimosa, maybe? I squeezed the orange juice myself right before you boarded.”

Our private plane boarded fifteen minutes ago. We’re flying domestic, going to meet Liam’s parents like we should have months ago. They were busy with work.

We had other matters to attend to.

First, we waited for Jagger and his girlfriend to return from their vacation around the world. We lent them the plane for as long as they liked.

Damien’s foster brother had helped us in more ways than one. Even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’s a part of the family. We have more money than we know what to do with. He could’ve asked to borrow the plane for five years and we would’ve still said yes. Gladly.

But Jagger didn’t need years. The couple had spent a month in Southeast Asia, then traveled to Paris, where he met with Anne and Nick, Laurel and her husband. They were excited to meet Quinlan. Laurel went as far as to deem Quinlan her new sister.

It’s a second sister Quinlan has now, since Anne claimed she’d licked her first.

Damien, Laurel, and Jagger had some alone time on that day we spent together. The three of them had conversations they couldn’t have over the phone, no matter how secure our lines are.

We celebrated. We had fun.

Then we came back home.

There was business to attend to. A front to maintain, in case anyone connected the dots between the strange disappearances of Joseph and Elaine, Aria and Rex. No one was supposed to. It made no sense that anyone would.

We did it anyway, returned here after a day. At home, we made a public announcement to deliver a statement about us being the real partners in BLF Capital. Our names are everywhere now.

We’re done hiding. Done planning. Done plotting.

Life is good.

So here we are, in our private plane, with the brushed metal finishes and expensive wood decorations. Sitting in plush leather seats wearing casual slacks and white button-downs on the way to Miami.

Everything screams casual, fun vacation.

I’m anything but relaxed.

The thought of Quinlan and alcohol…

The vein in my head throbs. Raw skin stretches across my knuckles as I grip the arms of my seat.

My gaze is latched on to one thing.

One person.

Quinlan. Sitting across from me in a flowy black dress that matches the ballet flats on her feet. The outfit the three of us chose for her this morning. An outfit meant for comfort.

Meant to accommodate a swelling belly.

Our woman is beautiful. Ethereal. Gorgeous.

Her lips curve upward. From the corner of my eye, it’s obvious Liam’s glowering at Sadie too. She doesn’t notice, her full attention fixed on Quinlan. She has that effect on people. More so recently.

Damien, who’s at Quinlan’s side, squeezes her hand. The one with the giant ten-carat brilliant round cut on her ring finger. Her engagement ring.

His expression is neutral, eyes warm. He’s so mesmerized by her that he probably didn’t hear what our flight attendant just asked.

Alcohol. Motherfucking alcohol.

Quinlan did hear her, though.

She opens her mouth to answer Sadie’s question. She’s going to do it by herself. Be nice about it.

I’m too pissed for niceties. Too pissed that Sadie could’ve missed how Quinlan glows .

“No mimosa.” The bite in my voice is audible. No one scolds me for being rude, least of all Quinlan. Her soft smile says she loves my overprotectiveness. “Christ, can’t you tell she’s pregnant?”

Whose babies are there, there’s no telling. Not yet. All the doctors could tell us this early in her pregnancy is that there are three.

Three fucking babies.

We went back and forth over this. Over the two weeks when we assumed Quinlan had conceived, a little over a month before the flight to Paris.

The three of us fucked her. Bare. Raw. And just so we wouldn’t leave anything to chance, we shoved our cum back inside her.

So there was no way of telling whose babies are inside there. Mine, Liam’s, Damien’s. The three of ours. Could be. It could happen with twins, why not triplets?

None of that mattered, though, that early in the pregnancy.

Quinlan’s well-being did. The babies’ did.

That was the second reason we stayed back in Chicago instead of taking her to meet Liam’s parents right away.

The third reason was that we helped put her parents in a proper facility. With their consent, clearly. They’re in the best mental hospital money can afford, being treated by the best professionals out there.

Her family is far from her, but she hasn’t been lonely. Never.

We were always there, taking turns to stay with her at home for her morning sickness. Those were awful. Broke my fucking heart to be this helpless against every wave of nausea. Every sprint to the bathroom.

I’m not too proud to admit that, other than being torn about her pain, I was scared.

Sure, I’d learned a lot about women through Anne. What tampons to buy and what dress goes with what heels.

Throwing up and shaking and crying? I had no fucking clue what to do about that.

We were there, though, anyway, doing whatever we could. Came with her to every doctor’s appointment, all three of us. Showered and bathed her. Bought her a whole new wardrobe.

Anything, including a new workstation we had set in our living room. Despite our protests, she asked to keep working, and we couldn’t resist her.

Just like we couldn’t stop loving her.

We could never stop loving her.

Damien is the one who makes her laugh a second after she’s done throwing up.

Liam has researched everything there is to learn about pregnancies. Ordered in a million different pillows and vitamins.

I, other than tending to her every need, fret over what she eats. I thought our pantry and fridge were adequately filled before. We added a new fridge ever since we got the news about her pregnancy. More shelves have been installed in the pantry.

I’m there to make sure she has whatever she wants at every hour of the day.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Mr. Langford.” Sadie’s face is flushed as she turns to Quinlan. “Ms. Palmer. I apologize, truly.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Quinlan’s face is even softer than before.

Her cheeks a deeper shade of pink. The color is back there after weeks of morning sickness. It’s finally over. The fire is back in her eyes as well. Her gray eyes are a stormy night as she trails her gaze over me, Liam, then Damien.

She’s done talking to Sadie.

She wants us. Our cocks and too many orgasms to count too, if I had to guess. She needs to come until she cries for us to stop. Until she’s delirious and panting. A beautiful mess.

Pregnancy hormones have another effect on her than just morning sickness and food cravings.

They’re making our Quinlan horny as fuck.

There’s a room in the back of the plane to take care of that for her. Jesus, for us. I need to have my cock inside of her.

We have another thing to give her. That’ll have to wait, even though I’m dying to start there. Except I can’t. She needs us to take care of her pretty pussy, so that comes first.

“Yes, but—”

“Leave us,” Liam quips. He sees what I do in Quinlan’s gaze.

“If you come back before the plane lands”—Damien’s expression is pure evil. He’s been letting this side of him out these days. Quinlan asked him that—“you’re fired, Ms. Mimosa.”

Sadie gasps. Who cares? I’m too engrossed in Quinlan’s tongue and its slow, seductive swipe along her bottom lip.

“What are you still doing here?” I stand to my full height.

She scurries out, gone in a matter of seconds.

I outstretch my hand to Quinlan. “You wanted something, Ms. Palmer?”

Her small palm lands in my much larger one. Damien has his hand on the small of her back and Liam has her other hand in his.

“I can walk by myself.” Her voice is thick with lust, her eyes playful.

She’s right. Our help isn’t unnecessary.

Our three babies have her swelling on her first trimester, but she’s still small. She could get up all on her own. But we love touching her. Can’t get enough of it.

“You wouldn’t be able to after we’re done with you.” Damien grazes his lips on the spot between her shoulder and neck.

Quinlan shivers, her breath hitching.

“We have hours, sweetheart.” I would have kissed her, except her clothes are on her, and that pisses me off as much as Ms. Mimosa had. “How many do you think we can squeeze until we land?”

“Rome.” Her blush deepens, reaching her delicate neck.

“I’d say more than five, and that’s underselling it.” Carefully, I take her in my arms and carry her to the back room.

“In three hours?” There’s a clink as Liam’s Zippo hits the table behind us. “Definitely underselling it.”

He got a new one for himself after the day in the warehouse. An identical golden Zippo like he bought the three of us. In aeternum is engraved on each one of them. Forever in Latin.

“What if I throw up?”

I get hard from the image she’s planted in my head. Desperate. Blind with need so primal that my bones howl for her. Quinlan being free to be herself around us is the biggest fucking turn-on imaginable.

“We’ll clean it up, sweetheart.” My lips press to the top of her head. “Then keep fucking you.”

“Oh.”

A partition separates the center of the plane and flight attendant area. It isn’t enough. Here, in the room in the back, we have a bed and a private bathroom with a shower. More importantly, a wood door to keep everyone else outside.

Easier to violate Quinlan without having to worry that we’ll have an audience.

“Come here.” Damien helps her down, careful as he hugs her to his side. He lowers his lips to her ear. “You think there’ll ever be a day we’ll stop taking care of you? A time we won’t want to fuck you, darling?”

More red on her cheeks. More black taking over her pupils. “But puke? Gro—”

“No buts.” The door clicks shut behind me, and Liam turns the key, locking us in. He walks up to her, helping her out of her dress. Strokes her scars, her entire belly. He then grabs her chin. “Your eyes were begging for us to be inside you. Make you come. You’re a horny little thing, and we’re here to tend to your problem. We don’t give a fuck about body fluids. Unless…”

“Unless.” I step in and tear her panties in half from her pussy while Damien relieves her of her bra. I inhale her underwear, my eyes staying on her the whole time.

Her gaze turns hot, hotter still, when I tell her, “Unless it’s your soaked pussy, sweetheart. In that case, we give all the fucks.”

“How wet is she?” Damien gestures for the wet fabric, and I pass it on to him.

“Soaked.”

He sucks in a breath, making a satisfied sound at the back of his throat.

“Little flame.” Liam wraps an arm around Quinlan’s back, his lips crushing into hers.

He’s demanding. Aggressive. The complete opposite of how he handles her carefully onto the bed on her back. He crawls between her legs, sliding his tongue from her slit to her clit.

“Love the taste of you.”

“Liam, please.”

Her plea drags him away from her pussy. He climbs up her body, caging her between his forearms. When he settles between her thighs, small whimpers and urgent pleas spill from her pretty mouth.

She spreads her legs wider for him, and we don’t need the panties to smell her anymore. No. Her arousal carries to us, so delicious that my mouth waters.

But it’s not about the scent. It’s about possession. About our sick, primal needs. Liam lifts a hand from the bed and Damien gives him her panties. His eyes roll to the back of his head the moment he mashes the fabric to his nose.

I lose my shirt, as does Damien. They fall in a heap on the floor with our belts. With our goddamn hearts.

We’d join them, pleasure her in her three holes, except the pregnancy has changed our dynamics. We’re cautious. Sort of. Doing the best we can.

So we watch, crossing our arms and letting Liam roll his hips. Soak the front of his pants with her arousal. Keep Quinlan’s torn panties pressed to his nose.

This woman who grinds and moans beneath Liam—the woman who stole our hearts—is perfect. Every facet, every smile, every tear, every mood swing. All of it is up there, perfect.

“Liam, please.” Quinlan’s fingertips caress his cheeks, skim the scar tissue in a way that makes him groan. “Please. Fuck me already. I need you. I have to have you. I’m so horny it hurts. Ple—”

“I love seeing your mouth full.” Her panties go between her lips, and Liam shifts his hips up to take himself out.

God, my dick strains in my pants. I have to do something with my hands before I tear him off her. I remove her flats. Kiss the arch of one foot while Damien does the same with her other foot.

Her muffled moans. The sweet shiver raking over her body. It’s intoxicating, and I wish I could stay on my knees and worship her through it all.

The need to be there and watch her face light up when Liam pummels into her is stronger.

“Our little cum slut. All gagged and gorgeous.” He removes the panties from her mouth, tosses them. “I changed my mind about the gag. Need to hear you. Beg for me. Beg for us to fill your swollen pussy, Quinlan.”

“Please. Please, please, my God, please.” Her nails dig into his back, her entire body arching for him. “Fill me up, I’m begging. I’ll die without it. Fuck, it hurts how much I need you.”

“Such a good girl.” Liam cups both sides of her face, angling his hips. He pushes into her in one shove, settles in, then ruts into her. His abdomen doesn’t so much as graze her belly, but the rest of him does. Lips, hands, thighs. “You’d have been on your knees for me if I told you right now, wouldn’t you? On all fours. Crawling like the needy little thing you are. Would’ve done anything for my cock.”

Her yes is a strangled groan. She lifts her feet, her heels pressing to Liam’s ass.

“Yeah, you would.” He kisses her like he’d never have another chance to do it. Kisses her like I want to. Like I crave to. “That’s why you’re such a good girl. My sweet whore, squeezing me like this. Oh, fuck ,” he moans when her mouth parts in a silent cry. When her orgasm hits. “Quinlan, fuck.”

My cock jerks in my pants, precum wetting the tip when he comes. I love both of them. Watching her come around him, listening to her senseless mumbling. It’s a close second to being the one inside of her.

Close.

A few harsh thrusts from Liam, and Damien steps in. He’s no longer hiding the scars on his abdomen. Quinlan knows us inside out. And just like she told Liam, she thinks Damien wears them so fucking well. That they’re a sign of his bravery. Of his devotion to his foster siblings.

“I’m addicted to your moans, you know that?” He’s inclined on the wall behind the bed, leaning back on the pillows. Reaching his arms for Quinlan. “Going to drag more of those out of you.”

Liam pulls out and flips her on all fours. Her cunt is wet, their orgasms dripping the inside of her thighs and Liam shoves it back in. Doing so won’t put a fourth baby in her.

But her moans, Jesus. How her head drops. The push back of her hips.

How can we not give it to her?

“Go to Damien, little flame.” Once Liam’s done, he places his hand on the curve of her ass.

“That’s right, darling.” Damien beckons her to him as he slides down to lie on the bed. The glint in his eye as he shoots me a look is an invitation. He wants me to make this even better for her. To be a little less careful. “Crawl to me.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I don’t see her eyes when I remove the rest of my clothes in a haze. Don’t see the corner of her mouth quirking as she sways her gorgeous hips on her way to Damien.

Don’t need any proof of just how much she enjoys herself. How badly she gets off on teasing Damien. On teasing any of us.

I’m the happiest when she’s happy. She doesn’t know it, but I’d be the one on my hands and knees for her, if that’s what would make her happy. I’d do any-fucking-thing.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises her as she comes closer, his voice hoarse. “I’m your Daddy. Now come sit on me. Fucking ride me.”

Liam’s in the armchair next to the bed. Hard again, stroking himself.

It’s impossible not to be, when Quinlan’s like that. Seductive. Glorious. Not afraid of taking what she craves for herself.

Which she does. She straddles Damien, and he holds the base of his cock up for her. Grabs her hips with one hand and helps her lower on his length.

“Not so fast.” I’m behind her. I have my hands on her hips, above Damien’s, spreading her for me. Tilting her hips up and away from Damien’s cock.

Pulling her sweet little cunt to my mouth.

I’m dying to pleasure her. That’s why my tongue dips into her dripping hole, why I take extra care in rubbing her walls. Suck on her juices and Liam’s cum.

I’ve gotten used to tasting my friends on her. It’s us. It’s right. It’s so fucking right.

“Rome.” My name’s on her lips. She cries harder when I tilt my head to find her red, taut clit and suck.

I would’ve made her come on my tongue, except I’ve run out of time. I’ll only have her after Damien does.

“My name.” We move together, him and I. I straighten on my knees, and he pulls her to him, impaling Quinlan on his cock. “Say my name, darling.”

“Damien.” There’s no hesitation, not a second of it. He grinds her on him, kisses her, steals her breath with every stroke of his cock, and she still moans, “Damien, fuck me, please.”

I spit on her tighter hole, then cut my gaze to Liam. He leans forward in his chair, his rapt attention on Quinlan’s face. Hypnotized by her.

So am I. I return my attention to her ass, rubbing my saliva around her the rim, grabbing a fistful of her ass cheek.

“You drive me crazy, sweetheart.” I can’t help myself. Can’t go slow and gentle. I need to stretch that other hole. I’ve been dying to have her there. Everywhere. “You make me want things,” I hiss, cursing. Push my thumb deeper. “Filthy things. Defile you in so many ways. Even more so now that you’re carrying our children.”

“Do it,” Quinlan groans, her plea choked.

“Do what?” Damien slows, grabbing her by the hair and turning her face to me without hurting her. I can tell he’s being gentle. I can tell it’s costing him. “You’ll have to be more specific, darling.”

Her lips are swollen, parted. A blush has taken over her cheeks.

“Fuck me there. I want—no, I need —you in my ass, Rome.”

I shake my head, though deep down, I’m already in there. Already making her wet enough, stretched enough so it wouldn’t hurt.

Her pout is fucking adorable. “The doctor said it’s okay.”

My hand cracks down on her ass.

“You asked?” I spit on the hole I’ve been denying myself for weeks. “You asked your doctor if two men can stretch you like this?” Two fingers go into her.

She groans. Liam does too.

I curl my fingers inside her. Pump in and out of her ass. I’m high on the sounds she can’t stop making. On how she clenches around me.

“Told him you’re our little sex toy?” She’s full of my fingers and my saliva. I spit on her again. As rough as I’m being, she needs the prep. We haven’t been inside her ass for too long. “That you’re a whore for three men?”

“I have needs.” She slides up on Damien’s cock. Pushes into my fingers. “So yes, I asked.”

“Who did you say we were to you?” Damien pulls her face to him, his voice hoarse with lust.

None of us explained to her doctors who the hell we were to Quinlan. We pay them extra to keep their mouths shut. Not to ask any questions. But if Quinlan asked for their advice about being fucked in more than one hole, she had to have told them something.

No, I’m not mad. I’m curious as much as Dame is. As much as Liam is, who stopped fucking his hand and is just there, staring at her.

“Hmm? What was it, Quinlan? You said we’re your kidnappers?” Damien’s hands are on her neck, going down to her breasts and up to her cheeks. When she doesn’t answer, he pulls her to him, his lips parting on her neck, where he bites her. “The men who’d been obsessed with you for years? Psychopaths? Your owners, who wouldn’t stop fucking you until you were pregnant?”

“I… I said you were my fiancés.” Damien releases her face, and her beautiful gray eyes dance between the three of us. “I said I’m yours. And that I’d be miserable if I couldn’t have you inside of me together. They can’t tell anyone anything under their NDA, right?”

“Adorable.” Liam releases a breath, his tone gentle and so full of love.

“No, they can’t.” I spit on my hand, rubbing myself. Lubing my cock for her, even though my tip is already leaking. “Clever girl. Sweet girl.”

“I warned you, though, about lying.” Damien pinches her sensitive nipple. “Didn’t I, darling?”

She gasps. Finds his eyes, her body tensing. “I wasn’t lying.”

His cock driving harder into her. Slow and rough. He gave her a big enough hint to our surprise, that he’s gone silent. Too choked, if I had to guess.

“We’re not your fiancés.” Liam digs into the suitcase he left by the nearest wall. He extracts four boxes that he places on the bedside table. “We’re marrying you. We’re your husbands. As of today.”

Polygamy is a felony in the state of Illinois.

So is kidnapping.

We don’t give a fuck about either law.

A marriage license or outsiders’ approval means jack shit to us. We haven’t made it official in our eyes yet because we planned to surprise Quinlan with the wedding at Liam’s parents’ home.

Earlier, they sent us pictures of their backyard, of the lanterns they’d scattered around and the cake they’d ordered. We could have dinner over there instead of the wedding itself, sure.

We’re getting married, and we’re doing it now.

“You said we had time.” Quinlan’s eyebrows shoot up, and Damien cups her cheeks again, forces to look at him while he fucks her. “Months. That you wanted to do something special.”

She didn’t want a big party. Didn’t care for a dress or a ceremony. Quinlan demanded the four of us have our gold wedding bands on as soon as we put the diamond on her finger.

We were the ones who insisted on making it into a big thing.

I groan, nudging the tip of my cock to her opening. Putting a ring on her after we just fucked her in the plane isn’t a big thing. It’s not a white dress and a four-layer cake.

It’s our thing.

“And this isn’t special?” Liam slides his hand between Quinlan and Damien, and I feel it.

The second he touches her clit, she clenches over the tip of my cock. I want to slam into her so badly that I have to physically stop myself. I have to slow down for her.

“You’re telling us you prefer to wait?” He rubs her, his lips planting wet kisses on her back.

“No. This is special. I was—” Her voice is laced with tears of frustration. Of need. “You know I want… Please. Don’t stop.”

“We know.” My patience has been stretched thin. There’s nothing left when I finally slam into her, going balls deep in her ass. She screams, and it’s so sweet. So mine. “You’ll get it. We’ll give you the world.”

I’m trying—Lord, am I trying—to be slow. I bend without putting my weight on her. Damien moves beneath us, his lips on her cheek.

My lips brush past her other cheek, trailing slowly to her ear. “Anything you want. Wife.”

“Oh, God.” Her pregnant, perfect, soft body becomes pliant in our arms.

The three of us don’t let her down. We won’t ever.

We stroke, thrust, and ravage her. We tell her what a good girl she is. Coax three orgasms out of her before either of us comes. Before Liam empties himself on her pretty lips.

Twenty minutes later, we’re showered, wearing lounge clothes and back on the bed. On clean sheets.

Liam’s at the far right, and I’m at the left side of the bed. Quinlan sits on Damien’s lap, her back to his chest. She snuggles into him, but her love is so strong that it carries to Liam and me as if we were the ones holding her.

The four black boxes from the bedside table lie in her lap.

“Do we…” In comparison to what we just did, this is nothing. It makes Quinlan’s flustered state even more adorable. “Say our vows? Or should we skip it?”

“Fuck no.” I grab her box. The one with a small gold Q engraved on it.

We haven’t written our vows. Preferred it to be spontaneous. Original. Us.

That’s exactly what we’re going to do.

Since she’s been Damien’s first, I pop the box open for him. He plucks out the first thin gold band out of three. His smile wavers, the emotions cracking his well-constructed veneer.

His chin quivers, and that’s when Liam pulls her into his arms. She has to see this. His heart. His devotion. How much he loves her.

“Darling.” Her hand is in his, and he holds her firmly, his undivided attention fixed on her. “For the longest time, I considered the moment you were born the best one of my life. You saved me. You saved my foster siblings. You did it when no one else would or could. You were so special that my monster fell for you and kicked us out. You were pure and wonderful and perfect, and that was enough for me to know you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. That was everything. I loved you for it. I adored you even when I knew I’d use you to get back at him. I loved you as my savior. I loved you as the little sister I could never talk to or hug or play with. I was content with loving you from afar. Then my love grew alongside you. It evolved, and when I got to have you all to myself… When you became ours… Fuck.”

He shakes his head. Once. Wipes a tear from Quinlan’s cheek. Smiles. “I never loved anything more. I’m obsessed and desperate and fucking insane for you. You’re everywhere, darling. Flowing through my veins. All the thoughts running through my head. You’re the air I breathe, do you understand? I’d die without you. They won’t need to burn me for my body to turn to ashes. I’d be nothing if I can’t have you. I won’t ever fail you for as long as I live. If I die before you, I’ll just come back again in another form. I’ll be your husband for an eternity. I’ll always love you. Always protect you. Be the man you need.”

“Damien.” Quinlan’s chin wobbles. Her hand quivers in his as he slips the ring on her.

He sucks in a breath. I can hardly catch one myself.

“My wife.” When he brings her knuckles to his lips, Damien’s the most serious I’ve ever seen him. “My forever.”

The gold band on her delicate finger shines just as bright as her diamond. Liam puts Damien’s in her hand.

“Damien. You psychotic, sweet, caring man. You’ve owned me from that day you stalked me home. Your sapphire eyes talked before your mouth ever did. I saw you through them. The real you.” He nods. He knows. The three of us know how wise beyond her years Quinlan is. How perceptive. “Thank you for being my guardian angel. For waiting. For accepting me the way I am. I’m no savior, but I hope—fuck, I wish with everything in me—that I’ll always be the person you turn to. You’re one third of my entire world and I love you. I love you, Damien Black.”

“I love you, wife.” He grins as the gold band slides down his finger. His second ring finger to be marked by her.

This isn’t my turn to tell her everything. I want to. My lips crave to move. My heart to slice itself open for her.

But it’s because I’m that desperate for it that I take her so she’s facing Liam.

The embers in his eyes are shimmering, and he looks part relieved, part grateful. He shifts on the bed, holds her ring in his hand and her fingers clutched in his other palm.

It’s beautiful to watch. Makes my heart warm and, fuck, that’s okay. I can be soft around these people and it’s perfectly fine.

“Loving you is the most uncomplicated emotion I’ve ever felt.” His mouth twitches. His lungs expand with a deep breath. “You take up every available space in my heart. Have been there for years. A healing wildfire. A nurturing force of nature. You bring life. You shine a light so bright the sun has nothing on you. Little flame, I’ve always figured that if I controlled the fire—if I just kept flicking my Zippo—I’d be okay. I’d be in control. I don’t need it anymore. I have a fire of my own…”

His hand clutches hers, and he lifts both their hands so his knuckles graze her cheek. Stroking her. “And it’s the kind of fire that I don’t need to tame. I’ll be the happiest man to burn alongside you. With you. Always.”

“Liam.” Quinlan’s cheeks glisten with tears. So many of them.

He slips the second wedding ring on her finger.

Waiting for her to wear mine is agony. I hug her, my lips resting on her shoulder. That’s all I’ll have until it’s my turn.

“Go on, sweetheart,” I whisper in her ear. “I don’t want to punish a pregnant woman, but I would if you don’t hurry.”

“I’m crying, damn it.” She scoffs.

Fucking scoffs at me. And that’s the most adorable sound I’ve ever heard. Especially when Damien and Liam crack a smile at her.

“I love you, Liam.” Damien places Liam’s ring in Quinlan’s palm, and she holds on to it. “You are so easy to love. Except…that’s not why I love you. I love you for how you give me everything and ask for nothing in return. I love that you do talk to me. That you’re harsh and soft and just…yourself. Your heart, baby.” She leans forward while I grip her hips for balance, kissing his chest. I help her sit back, and Liam wipes a tear off her cheeks. Not like it matters. They won’t stop pouring. “You have such a beautiful soul. Even when you’re quiet. Even when you’re at work. My soul is with you wherever you go. I’ll be your fire. I’ll be your ice. I’ll be your wife for eternity. There’ll never be a day I’ll be willing to spend without you.”

“My wife.” He cups her cheeks as soon as the ring settles on his ring finger, his thumb tracing along Quinlan’s tattoo.

“My husband.” Her palms find his cheeks. Her hand caresses his scar reverently. Adoringly.

“Before Rome loses it.” Damien’s amused tone doesn’t ruin their moment.

They both smile when they break apart. Quinlan’s still crying when my best friends twist her to me.

“Your eyes in the morning,” I start once Liam passes me my ring. I have Quinlan’s palm in mine, her full attention on me. My goddamn heart is in my throat. “That first second after a long night. Having you awake, back with us from your dreams. Nothing beats it. Nothing is better than that, Quinlan.”

Whether she wakes up with one of or more of us inside any of her holes. With our tongues on her pussy and breasts and neck. When she’s cuddled between us on a lazy Sunday.

Whenever she opens her eyes, she takes my breath away.

The gleam in her eyes and her reassuring nod tell me she remembers every single time she woke up with us.

“I will never take a single day, a single split-fucking-second with you, for granted. To have you in our lives—as our wife —is the greatest gift you could’ve ever given any of us.” I’m trying hard not to be too rough on her hand, not to hold so tight. I don’t know that it’s working. I don’t know anything other than how I’m hers and she is mine. “None of us could ever live without you. None of us would survive. And I’m sorry. For all the years we couldn’t come get you. For all the time we were forced to spend apart. Those years are over. You belong to us. I—Christ…”

Being this sentimental is a punch to the gut. The pain hits differently than anything else. This love. These words. They crack my ribs open and it hurts to get through with it.

I have to get through with it.

“I’m marrying you because you’re the light at the end of the tunnel. You helped me slay my dragons. You love my sister and, God, I love you even more for it. I had no idea I could, but I do.” This part worried me the most. How they’d get along. Fate, as cruel as it’d been, came through for us. All the pieces have ended up falling into place. “You’re beautiful, inside out. Every part of you is wild and wonderful and perfect. All the money in the world couldn’t buy a single day with you. No words could describe what a blessing it is to be near you. I love you. With all my heart. With every fiber of my being. I love you.”

Her tears continue to roll down her cheeks as I grip her chin. Tug her to me for a kiss that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. “This is it, sweetheart. The final destination. End of the road. I’ll die with your name on my lips, only to come back for you in the afterlife. We’ll always come back for you.”

The third thin band—my wedding ring—completes the stack on Quinlan’s ring finger. I press my lips to her knuckles. The inside of her palm. Her wrist. My hand goes to her swollen stomach, where Liam’s and Damien’s hands already are. Where our children grow inside of her.

“I’ll never leave.” One ragged breath, and she continues, “Just like you never scared me, Rome Langford. You’re a storm of a man, a hurricane personified. But you never scared me. Your physical strength is my comfort. You have the power over my heart and my soul, and that doesn’t scare me either. I’ll always put my life in your hands, blindly. I’m safe with you. I’m a part of you. You own me so thoroughly and I love the idea of belonging to you. You love fiercely, and I love you even more. You’re my everything. My home. My life. My husband.”

“My wife.”

I can’t wait to kiss her. Except I have to wait. For her ring to slide down my finger. For the moment she makes me hers.

And yeah, the ring is nice. It’s a symbol.

It isn’t this . This woman with her arms around my neck and her lips on mine. The knowledge that my best friends and sister are safe and with me for life.

Those are the things that have made Quinlan mine a long time ago. Ours.

Our family. Our connection.

This twisted fate. This warped gift from the universe.

All of this.

She’s always been ours. We’ve always been hers.

And that’s how it’ll be until the end of time.

Just.

The three.

Of us.

The end.