Page 92 of A Fine Line

“As if he could stop her. I had no idea how wild Antionette was, but sometimes, I think she might be the craziest one out of all of you.”

“Come on now,” I say with a laugh. “You know it’s a sliding scale. We all take turns with the crazy.”

She gives me a soft look, then sighs. “Is it really over?”

I raise a shoulder noncommittally, then reply, “Is it ever really over?”

“So, you’re saying there’s zero chance you want to retire and come live with me in the suburbs with a white picket fence, a dog, and a passel of kids?”

My eyes widen, and I try to keep the horror out of them, but then her lips twitch, and I realize she’s fucking with me. “Just for that, I should keep you pregnant for the next decade and see how much you enjoy hanging out in the kitchen.”

“You can try, but remember, I don’t cook, so joke’s on you.”

“Nah,” I reply smugly. “Joke’s on you ’cause you’re stuck with me, and you haven’t caught on to the fact that one way or another, I get what I want.”

“Oh, really?” she asks with raised brows. “And what is that?”

“Only you, sweetheart. Only you.”

Epilogue

Tony

Two months later…

Ifanyonehadevertold me that one day, I would be married with children, I would’ve laughed in their face.

But here I am, a married father of one, constantly contemplating impregnating his wife.

Just that word “wife” heats my blood and speaks to that purely animalistic part of me that I didn’t know existed.

That being said, no one ever explained to me the many restrictions of having a small child around all the time. Not that I’m complaining, but the distinct lack of privacy is a problem when you want to stick it in your wife twenty-four-seven.

Until now, I never realized how easily a man can be edged, and the fact she doesn’t even have to put her hands on me to twist me around to the point I’m a throbbing, reckless animal, entirely focused on destroying her pussy or her mouth or her ass, basically any part of her that I can get my dick into, is hilarious.

For example, right now, she keeps looking at me, licking her lips like I’m a tasty snack, and she knows damn well there’s nothing we can do about it until Nettie gets here to take the cock-blocking child off our hands for a few hours.

What she doesn’t know is that Nettie and Dare are keeping Flora overnight, so I have a full twenty-four hours to torture her. The first thing I’m gonna do is spank her, then stuff her full of my cum, and then I’m going to stick her in the box and let her cool off for a few minutes…or maybe an hour.

In the months since our impromptu wedding, things have remained mostly quiet. Nettie has been in sporadic communication with her father, though she still refers to him as the sperm donor, and I suppose that will go on until she decides he’s earned the right to be called anything different.

So far, all the chatter regarding Carolina has died down. It seems our cease and desist or else message was received and believed.

That doesn’t mean there isn’t still a threat. We can’t let our guard down entirely, but the more we dismantle the organizations that these people want to acquire, the less likely they are to bother.

And we’ve been very busy on that part. The extensive network of illegal operations that Vincent and Dimitri were operating was extreme. Carolina has helped with a few of them, but for the most part, she’s been happy to sit back and allow us guys to take care of it for a while. It’s the first time in her life she’s been able to sit back and not worry about what comes next, and though it took her some time to acclimate to this new mindset, she’s been settling in nicely.

I’m in the process of cleaning the kitchen when she enters the room after seeing off Flora. She’s standing on the other side of the large island, and I ask, “You mind pushing that pan over to me, please.”

She eyes me suspiciously, but she places her hand on the pan and leans forward, pushing it in my direction. I reach over the pan and snag her wrist, quickly cuffing it before she can snatch it back. Her eyes light with excitement, but she frowns at me. “Really, Tony? This is how you’re gonna play it?”

“Take off your shirt, sweetheart,” I reply as I release her cuffed wrist. “And then give me your hands, and I’ll show you exactly how I’m gonna play it.”

“My shirt?”

I nod. “Take it off or I’ll cut it off.”

She cocks her head at me, and I can tell she’s considering making it difficult for me, which is perfectly fine with me since it doesn’t matter what order she goes in the box as long as she ends up in the box.

---