Page 95 of Brazen King

His lips brush the shell of my ear, and he murmurs, “Mrs. King,” like a soft caress.

I cry out, an orgasm ripping through me and leaving me tingling at the sensual sound of just how completely I belong to Killian now. I love it. Knowing he and I are tied together from now until eternity. And as my pussy throbs around his fingers, Iknow nothing is going to make me happier than calling him my husband.

Because life with Killian makes me ready to face anything head-on.

Deftly working his belt open, followed by his pants, I’m eager to consummate this marriage. And while Killian and I have had sex in just about every way imaginable at this point, knowing that I am his and he is mine, now and forever, makes it all the more sweet.

“My fiery little tigress,” Killian murmurs as I reach inside his slacks and guide his thick erection out. “Can’t even wait for me to get undressed?” he teases.

“That will come next,” I whisper, nipping at his full lower lip. “Right now, I want to fuck the devastatingly handsome man I saw standing up at the altar today. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone wear a tux quite as well as you, Killian King.”

Killian purrs, and as he hikes my dress up higher around my hips, fresh anticipation tingles through my core. Our frantic desire somehow doesn’t feel rushed at all. Because when we have eternity together, it doesn’t matter how many times it takes. We can passionately speed through our first round of love making without even getting undressed.

And for round two, I can take my time removing every last shred of clothing so I can kiss the winding trails of his intricately entwined tattoos.

White fabric in a pool around me, I wrap my legs around Killian’s hips. And though we can’t see a thing with all the layers of fine fabric, we line up perfectly. His thick, silken tip finds my entrance, and Killian presses inside of me to the hilt.

He pauses there as a euphoric moan escapes my lips. And it feels so intoxicatingly good to become one. Two bodies, one soul. So thoroughly tangled together that it doesn’t even matter where he ends and I begin.

Once upon a time, I never dreamed that I could find a man who could convince me to give up my independence, my freedom, my willful desire to forge my own path.

But with Killian, I haven’t had to give up any of that. He loves me for exactly who I am. He inspires my independence and encourages my freedom, allowing me all the room I crave. And yet, our partnership feels strong enough to be forged from iron.

Me and my brazen Irish King. I never knew that anyone could make me feel so happy.

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

QUINN

“Quinn! Dinner!” Mom calls from the foot of the stairs.

Closing my math textbook with a thump, I appreciate the break from my studies. Junior year is really kicking my butt, and while I’m loving my science class, I think my brain might explode if I have to do another equation for precalculus.

The house is a little too quiet for my taste these days, considering Killian’s living in his own apartment downtown for the summer and Lance moved out a few years back. I miss the noisy ruckus of too many brothers filling the house.

But even Henry’s off at college now, graduated last spring. Which leaves me as the only child that stands between my parents and the term “empty nesters.” I know they’re dreading it. They like a noisy house as much as I do. Which is why they try to coerce Killian and Lance to come home for family dinners as often as possible.

And to my intense excitement, as I make my way downstairs, I can hear Killian’s playful lilt echoing from the front entrance of our family home in Brooklyn Heights.

“Killian, is that you?” I call, racing the last few steps down to the hall and rounding the corner to find my favorite big brother at the front door.

Then my heart skips a beat as Lance’s towering form follows him inside. At six foot five, Lance is nearly tall enough for the top of his head to brush the door frame as he passes through it. And his broad shoulders have muscled up after years of competitive sports and working out that he all but fills a doorway every time he steps through it.

He might be the single most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on, with thick brown hair and deep blue eyes that never miss a thing. And it might be wrong to have a crush on someone who’s as good as family—like a brother to Killian if not a son to my parents. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve held the dream that someday I might marry Lance Knight.

Only, I’m pretty sure he thinks of me, at best, as Killian’s annoying little sister. At worst, he thinks of me as hisownannoying little sister. Which is why I’ve safely locked that pipedream away in the same category as my hope of someday marrying the Dread Pirate Roberts—aka Westley from thePrincess Bride.

Still, a girl can dream.

“Hey, Quinny!” Killian says, flashing his charming, dimpled smile. “If it isn’t my favorite annoying kid sister,” he teases.

“I’m your only sister,” I say crisply, but that does little to deter him.

Heat radiates in my cheeks as my older brother scoops me up and gives me a twirl, like I used to love when I was a little girl. But I’m sixteen now, and I desperately wish I could be seen as something other than a child. Especially when Lance is around.

However, when Killian finally sets me down after I give several vocal protests to my mistreatment, Lance hardly seems to notice. His typical silent, brooding scowl is in place—that lookthat both reminds me of the past that haunts him and the reason why so many people find him intimidating.

Which is why his work with my father is a perfect fit. He and Killian are creating all new kinds of trouble around town making a name for themselves in Dad’s chain of command. And from what I hear, they’ve both earned plenty of respect for whatever it is they’re doing in the business—a business Dad seems to think I’m better off knowing nothing about.

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