Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy #3)

“How long do you think you’ll be able to hold out while I keep you on the edge of orgasm?”

“I guess we’ll see.”





Mount





“Please! Just let me come!”

“Tell me.”

My wife bares her teeth at me like a wild animal. I can attest to the fact that she is by the scratches on my back, and I wouldn’t have her any other way.

I press against the plug in her ass, loving how her wetness drips down to it as I tease her piercing with my tongue.

“No!”

“Stubborn, stubborn hellion.” I toy with the plug. “I bet when I sink my cock into this tight little ass, you’ll scream my name and whatever else I want to know.”

She arches her back, lifting toward me.

In all reality, I couldn’t care less where we’re going, but being with Keira—especially locked in a battle of wills that’s playing out naked—is my most favorite thing in the world.

“Try me.” She grits out the words, desperately reaching to steal her orgasm, and I let her have it because I can’t deny her anything for long.

When she screams my name, I’m actually proud she held out against telling me. I’ve never liked surprises before, but with Keira, everything is different.

Life isn’t black and white anymore. It’s filled with color, and not just gold.

“Are you going to follow through, Lachlan, or did I do all this prep work for nothing?”

She challenges me every day. It keeps me on my toes—and my dick hard—nearly 24/7.

“Oh, hellion, you should know better than to test me.”

I pull the plug from her ass and grab the lube she had stashed in her purse. Have I mentioned she’s also the most resourceful woman I’ve ever met?

I coat my finger before pushing it into her nearly virgin hole. “Who owns this ass?”

Her expression turns mulish. “I do.”

I push a second finger inside and press a button on the remote beside me. “Want to try again?”

“That is so not fair!” Her voice rises an octave as she presses into my touch, vibrations ripping through her body from the toy in her p*ssy. “I’m going to come.”

“Not until I’m buried deep inside that ass I own. My woman. My wife. My love.”

A tender expression flashes across her face. “You don’t play fair.”

“I never have. I never will. Not when it comes to you. Now, tell me what I want to hear.” I move my fingers in and out, and her muscles clench.

“I love you.”

“And?”





Keira





I swear, he always wins.

But lucky for me, when he wins, I win.

Lachlan pulls his fingers free and grabs a wet wipe I stashed with the lube. Because while I might still technically be a virgin in this area, I’ve got plenty of experience now. He coats his cock with the lube, and I tense as he presses the head against my tightest hole.

With a tug, he pulls the remote-operated vibrator out of my p*ssy and presses it against my piercing.

“That isn’t fair!”

He pushes himself forward just enough to breach the ring of muscle, making my nerve endings zing with pleasure and sparks burst across my vision.

“Tell me,” he says as he teases my clit.

“I belong to you.” Triumph flares in his gaze as he pushes inside, and the sensations have me moaning the last part of my declaration. “But you belong to me.”

As he buries his cock in my ass, my husband smiles. “You better f*cking believe it. Body. Heart. Soul.”

He pulls back and f*cks into me, but I’m already on the edge of orgasm.

I come again and again until he roars his climax and it echoes in the cabin of the plane. Our hearts hammer in time, sweat dripping from both our brows.

“Now, where the hell are we going?”

I smile. “You’ll see.”





Mount





As the plane touches down on the runway, Keira pulls a folder from her bag and hands it to me.

“What is this?”

“Don’t get mad . . .”

I tense at the caution pervading her tone. “Why would I get mad?”

“Because I stole your DNA, submitted it under a false name using a PO box . . .”

I blink twice, replaying her statement in my head. “Why the hell would you do that?”

I snatch the folder from her hand and stare down at it. I’ve never wanted to know about the woman who left me in front of a church, but I can’t deny I’ve always wondered about my roots, especially after seeing how Keira felt when she saw Dublin.

“Because I wanted you to know where you come from. I wanted to be able to tell our kids what their heritage is—from both sides of the family.”

My gaze cuts to her face. “Are you—”

Keira shakes her head. “Not yet. But I definitely want to talk about it soon.”

Kids. A family. Things I never considered before her, but think about all the time now. I used to avoid any connection for fear of weakness, but now I have no doubt that she’s my greatest strength. She gives me a reason to wake up every morning and rule our empire with honor. Even if it’s tarnished and dented.

I open the folder, and the results are on the first page.



73% Italy/Greece





“So, where the hell are we?” I lift my eyes from the page, shocked beyond belief.

“Greece. I thought we’d start here and see what you think. Sicily is next. Seemed appropriate. Then I figured we could head wherever you want to go next from there.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to give you something I didn’t think you’d ever give yourself. Something you gave me—a chance to see where I came from.”

“I’m . . . literally f*cking speechless.”

“And that’s totally fine. But in case you’re wondering, it doesn’t matter where you came from. All that matters is that you became the man you are. The one I love. The one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. The one I’m going to raise a family with. And someday, the man who’s going to meet my parents, preferably before we have our first kid.”

She says the last part on a laugh, and I stand and pull her from her seat.

“They can meet us in Italy. Greece is our honeymoon. No parents allowed.”

A smile breaks over Keira’s face.

“Deal.”





Epilogue





Keira





One month later – Mardi Gras

Sometimes, making a deal with the devil is the best thing you can ever do. Especially when you realize he’s not the devil at all.

Except tonight.

I school my features into a smile at the toy vibrating inside me as I listen to the owner of the New Orleans Voodoo Kings extoll the virtues of Seven Sinners whiskey, and his new favorite—the Phoenix Label.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I’ll be buying up as much as I can. I bet the commissioner would enjoy a bottle or two. And here I thought you couldn’t top the Spirit of New Orleans.”

“I’ll make sure to hold a few bottles back for you, sir.”

“I’d appreciate it,” he says before taking another sip.

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I need to check on a few things.”

“Of course. Y’all throw a hell of a party. We’ll definitely be bringing the boys back in the future.”