Page 85 of Red My Lips

“I’m not asking you to marry me, little devil.” He gestures around the kitchen. “This isn’t a proposal.”

“But you will. And when you do, I’ll say yes.” I pull him back down to recapture his lips with mine. “But you better ask me very nicely.” Gage inches back to rest his forehead against mine, our breath mingling between us with our proximity.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head. When I ask you to marry me, there won’t be any choice but to say yes.” One of his hands cups my face, his thumb tenderly stroking my face. His dark eyes remain connected with mine so deeply I can feel our soul ties tighten. “Cut me, fight me—hell, you can even kill me—but don’t ever fucking leave me again. You are my soul, Jillian Hart.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I’ve never meant anything so strongly in my entire life. “I love you, Gage Lawless. Forever.”

Epilogue

Gage

Paradise isn’t a place, it’s a person.

Jillian Lawless.

Watching her walk towards me—bikini-clad, my diamond sparkling on her ring finger as she carries her drink, dark hair swirling around her in the tropical breeze with her eyes set on me—it’s my wildest fantasy come true. Even from across the beach, she’s a fucking vision.

Her dark red string bikini does little to hide her voluptuous curves, a black mesh mini skirt hanging low on her full hips. The small triangles of fabric display her gorgeous tits and the marks covering them.

My marks.

Love bites and hickeys cover most of Jill’s perfect body, declaring her mine like the ring on her finger and her new last name. She’s finally mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to stake my claim on her so that she, and the rest of the world, know exactly who she belongs to. Just like how I’ve been hers from the moment I laid eyes on her.

The wedding was an intimate ceremony in a Gothic church. Jill wanted what she called ‘romantic elegance’ with hundreds of white candles, blood-red roses, and all of the guests wearing black. I’ll never forget when the church doors opened to reveal Jill standing in her ivory wedding gown, a black layered veil, and a bouquet of red roses. When she walked down the aisle, eyes locked with mine, her stunning smile brought attention to the red on her crimson lips.

Me.

Standing in front of our closest friends and family, declaring our vows, and committing to each other for time and all eternity—not even will death do us part—was the happiest moment of my life.

A honeymoon in St. Barths was Jill’s idea, one I happily agreed to. Sun, sand, and my gorgeous wife strutting around in tiny bikinis? Easiest yes of my life—after saying ‘I do.’

As Jill walks closer, I’m reminded again just how lucky of a bastard I really am. Lifting up a hand, I gesture with my pointer finger for her to give me a little spin. She flashes me a look and rolls her eyes but pauses a few feet from me to turn around, giving me a full three-sixty view of her in all her glory. That bikini was made for her, and the little mesh skirt adds coverage while still showing off the thong bottoms being swallowed by that lush ass of hers.

“Goddamn,” I groan, making her bite back a smile.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asks, closing the distance between us to walk into my awaiting arms.

“The most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth,” I state without hesitation.

“Do you want me?” She melts into me, her eyes softening like they do only for me.

“More than my next breath.”

“Do you love me?” The softness of her tone gives me life, a glimpse at who she is just with me. Seeing her be sweet and vulnerable is a privilege—one I plan to earn every fucking day.

“Like it’s my reason for existing.” I lean down to press a kiss on her forehead.

“Mmm,” she hums softly. “I love you.”

“I have a present for you.” I can’t help but grin at the way she perks up.

“What is it?” she asks, her eyes scanning around us for a package or a clue. Not seeing anything, she turns her narrowed eyes back to me. “You better not be playing with me.”

“Oh, I’ll be playing with you very soon,” I promise with a salacious grin. “Follow me, I’ll bring you to your gift.”

Taking her by the hand, I lead her away from the bar down a secluded path to a private beach. I can feel Jill’s eyes on me as we walk, growing more and more curious. A small maintenance shed sits tucked away in a grove of trees. Opening the door, I let her enter first before I latch the door securely behind us.

The interior of the hut is mostly empty—with a few rakes, sandbags, and some landscaping equipment tucked off to the side. But that’s not what I brought her to see. A man stands in the center of the room, his wrists bound above his head and tied to the support beam on the ceiling. He stands, body taut against his restraints, his ankles tied together tightly with a cord. He starts making noise against the rag stuffed into his mouth that’s been secured with duct tape as we enter, hoping we’re his chance at being rescued. When his eyes land on me, his tone changes to angry desperation.

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