King of the Cage: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Devil’s Own)
King of the Cage: EPILOGUE

6 Months Later

“Welcome to fight night here at The Blue Rabbit!” The gathered crowd cheered loudly. Raffaelle Navarro was standing in the middle of the octagon in his underground fight club, his grin as wide as a Cheshire cat’s. Of course it was. Tonight’s fight was huge, and bets had been flooding in.

“Look at that, even Mr. Hot Doctor is here tonight,” Sol mused, sipping her drink and peering at Keiran.

“Mr. Hot Doctor?” Quinn questioned the nickname. Bran’s little sister had become my shadow. I didn’t mind. I liked it. I loved it.

“What, you have to admit he’s hot,” Sol protested.

Quinn looked across the room to where Keiran was waiting ringside.

Declan, her appointed bodyguard, cleared his throat beside us, and sent heat leaping up Quinn’s pale, freckled cheeks.

She wrinkled her nose. “Pass. He’s like my brother.”

“More for me, in that case,” Marco sighed, sinking into a seat beside me.

“I don’t think he’s gay,” I told Marco apologetically.

He just shrugged. “That’s only because we’ve never been formally introduced.” Marco tossed his head confidently. “Now, if you bitches would shut up, Daddy’s about to fight, so pipe down.”

“I don’t know how I feel about you calling my husband Daddy,” I muttered to him.

Marco just grinned. “Honey, I just say what everyone’s thinking,” he jerked his head toward the stage.

“Have I missed Bran getting his ass kicked?” a deep, familiar voice asked behind us.

I spun around to see my brother standing there.

I shot up and hugged him, pressing a kiss to either cheek.

“You came?”

“You invited me, and like I said, I can’t pass up a chance to see Bran get punched.”

I pulled Elio down to the seat next to me, as Marco moved along to make space.

“How’s everything at Casa Nera?” I wondered.

Elio stared at the stage a moment, a muscle ticking in his strong jaw. “Fine.”

That one word sounded ominous.

“Really?” I prodded cautiously.

“It will be,” Elio responded, the words sounding final. There had been a lot of changes at Casa Nera, with my brother most of all.

Before I could try and replace out more, the music started and the lights lowered, leaving only the stage spotlights on.

It was fight night, and like always, I was here to see my husband pound some guy into the floor… and then it was my turn.

As soon as the fights were over, Bran walking out of the ring undefeated, as per usual, Sol turned to me.

“So, you wanna get out of here and head to another bar?”

“Where?”

“This cool place uptown. Quinnie, you can come with us, and bring your sexy bodyguard along for eye candy.”

Quinn glanced up at Declan and then quickly away.

“I’m tired, I think I’ll head home.”

“I’m in,” Marco announced.

I looked at the empty ring.

“Bran expects you to wait on him after the fight,” Declan reminded me, unnecessarily.

I stood up and grabbed Sol’s hand.

“If he really does, then he still hasn’t learned a damn thing,” I grinned at Declan.

I hugged Quinn and Elio goodbye and headed out with Sol and Marco.

“Tell your boss I’ll be waiting, if he can replace me.”

I linked my arm through Sol’s, and just like that, we were gone.

Sol wanted to go to a private karaoke place. We locked ourselves in a room and sang our little hearts out. Thank God the place was soundproofed. Singing was not my strong suit, but it was fun as hell.

When we left, there was a tall, broad figure waiting for me outside. Sitting astride his motorcycle, my husband waited as I said goodbye to my friends and came over.

“So, you found me? You missed you chance to sing a solo for a captive audience,” I teased him.

His visor was down, and he twisted, pulling my helmet onto my head.

His voice came through the helmet low and full of heat.

“There’s only one captive I want, and that’s you, selkie. Hold on.”

I swung my leg over the back of the bike and wrapped my arms around his middle. His words had me all hot and bothered. It was scary how well he controlled my desire.

He pulled out and drove us through the city toward Hell’s Kitchen.

He drove through our neighborhood and deep into the riverside area of the district. I wasn’t very familiar with the dark and dangerous areas where the O’Connors conducted their less savory family business. I still worked for Renato, after all, though I did help out with O’Connor business as well, if my skills could be useful.

Still, I could never forget that I’d married a very dangerous man. He was a killer, an ex-con, a mob son… a gangster born and bred.

He pulled up at a huge, imposing brownstone on 48th Street.

Silence surged in when the rumble of the motorcycle engine died.

“You’ve brought me here to kill me,” I muttered doubtfully as I looked around. The river was only a block over, but the traffic from over on 12th Avenue was distant and muted.

It was quiet in the street. Trees lined the avenue, and the cozy row of brownstones looked like the New York of the old movies I’d watched as a kid, across the sea, lonely and scared, wishing to replace a home to call my own. With a man who loved me, all the parts: too loud, ugly, dramatic, inconvenient, and everything in between.

“No, not to kill you, but to keep you… all to myself,” Bran said cryptically and helped me off the bike, then followed. He pulled me close to him and settled our helmets on the motorcycle.

“Keep me… you’d a need pretty strong cage to keep me in indefinitely,” I warned him, and he just laughed.

“I don’t know about indefinitely, but I definitely need a better cage for you, selkie, so you don’t go searching for your skin anytime soon. A castle fit for a queen,” he murmured and reached into his pocket.

He held his hand up, dangling keys.

I took the key and looked around. “Are you serious?”

He just nodded.

I stepped away from him and turned to the brownstones behind me.

“One of these?” I wondered, my heart leaping in my chest. I’d gotten used to our little studio above The Selkie’s Rest.

I gripped the key and took a step toward the smallest house on the block.

“This one?” I wondered.

Bran tutted and shook his head. “Think bigger.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. Sure, since becoming a De Sanctis family member, I hadn’t hurt for money. I’d been able to buy whatever I’d wanted for years, but a house, a brownstone near Midtown, at that, was another story entirely. Most of all, I didn’t let guys buy things for me.

“Buying a house without my input? I thought I told you that I don’t like bossy, domineering men,” I reminded my husband, unable to keep a smile from my face.

“No, I remember, and I remember that I’m your exception,” he tugged me back for a long, hot kiss and then turned in toward the biggest place on the street.

“Let’s go home, selkie.”

Bran slapped my ass as I bounded up the stairs to the house.

I turned the key in the lock and the door swung open. Before I could a step inside, Bran’s arms went around me from behind and he lifted me.

“This time, I’m starting things out on the right foot and carrying my bride across the threshold,”

“What does that tradition even mean?” I wondered as he walked into the dark hallway. A stained-glass window over the door turned the falling moonlight red and purple, shining down over us.

“No fucking clue, but I’ll take any excuse to hold my wife,” Bran muttered and flipped the light on.

He let me down to explore. It was beautiful. High corniced ceilings and sanded, perfectly polished floors mixed with modern appliances and furnishings.

My office was a marvel, with wall-to-wall screens and a new gaming chair that I couldn’t wait to break in.

“Ah, now onto to my favorite room,” Bran murmured in my ear as we went into the huge family bathroom.

“Your favorite? That’s a little too much information about your personal hygiene habits for me,” I tossed at him, and yelped as he pinched my behind.

The bathroom was huge, with a marble double vanity and a mirror that ran the entire wall.

“Take your panties off, wait in the bathroom, and bend over the sink for me,” Bran intoned. He’d shut the door and was leaning against it.

I stood in the middle of the large room, watching his eyes glitter darkly in the moonlight.

He looked me up and down with a lingering gaze that was scandalously full of intentions. Before this man, I’d never known what it was like to be truly wanted, mind, body, and soul. I was wild about this man, and I’d never recover.

Bran smirked. “Tonight, wee one, you’re mine.”

“You’re trying to tell me what to do, O’Connor?” I goaded him. I took a step back and then another. He watched my movements with his customary predatory grace.

Without giving him a chance to answer, I turned around and faced the mirror over the vanity and tossed my hair over my shoulder.

“Well?” I prompted as he watched me.

He approached slowly, taking his sweet time, and building my anticipation with every step.

He tutted as soon as he got close enough to draw my skirt up over my ass, bunching it in one hand.

“I thought I told you to lose the panties… you’re not used to taking direction very often, are you?”

He rested a hand on my ass and squeezed one cheek.

“No… most wouldn’t dare,” I murmured, arching my back into his touch.

He nodded and tugged my panties down, spreading my cheeks wide as he went.

“That’s right, they wouldn’t. That privilege is reserved for me, isn’t it, selkie?” he murmured, sinking a finger inside my cunt without warning.

I gasped, heat working up my neck, making my face hot and clouding my brain. My head fell back as he fucked me leisurely with that finger before he added another one.

His thumb rose to my ass and circled the puckered skin, before sinking just inside.

I rose up on my toes, feeling full of his thick digits and utterly debauched.

“I said, isn’t it… my love?”

“Hmmm, only you. Only you can survive me,” I gasped out, my thoughts confused, all my attention falling to his fingers, pumping slowly in and out of me in both holes.

“That’s right, my little man-eater… You’re mine and I’m yours,” Bran muttered and pulled his fingers from me. I watched him in the mirror as he pulled his belt free and let his jeans fall, kicking them and his boots off all in one go.

He eased his cock down my slit, getting himself nice and wet, before pushing inside me.

“It’ll just be you, me, and ten kids in this place,” he grunted.

I stiffened and twisted to look back at him. “What?”

He held onto my hips and sank deeper, pining me in place with his cock.

“I said it’ll just be us and our kids here in this house…”

“You said ten!” I exclaimed.

He grinned. “It’s a nice, round number. You’ll be a fucking great mom.”

“Three,” I countered, gasping as his cock rubbed me just right. I pressed back into him. “You can have three.”

“Agreed. I suggest we start this instant. I can’t fucking wait to see your belly swollen and round.”

“Too bad for you I have an implant,” I said sweetly, fucking back into him as he picked up the pace, fucking me harder and harder.

“Isn’t it?” Bran mused, reaching for my ass again, slipping his finger inside.

My brain blanked. I felt so full. His other hand snaked around my hip and found my clit.

I went boneless in his arms. I couldn’t hold myself up. Everything felt too good.

“Though, now that I think about it, have you checked that implant lately?” he murmured in my ear.

“What?” I asked, losing my train of thought under the onslaught of his cock and fingers.

“I mean, really… considering who I am, and who you are… have you had it checked lately?” Bran voice was full of teasing.

My eyes hazily opened and fixed on him behind me in the mirror.

“I mean, my best friend is a doctor, after all. I’d be more careful if I was you,” he murmured, fucking me hard now.

I braced my hands on the sink and tried to glare at him, though the pleasure washing through me made it difficult.

“Brandon O’Connor, you better not have done something you’ll live to regret,” I hissed and then ruined my foreboding tone by crying out as he pinched my throbbing clit.

“I couldn’t regret anything about you, selkie. Not replaceing you, or catching you, or keeping you… I’ll never regret anything that makes you more mine,” he grunted and caught my eyes in the mirror. “A horde of babies should do it.”

“Bran!” I exclaimed. I was going to come, I couldn’t help it, and it was just dawning on me that my psychopathic husband might have really had my implant removed while I was sleeping. I was shocked. Outraged. I was… excited? Yes. I was excited to start a family with this man. His crazy had rubbed off on me, clearly.

“You’d better not come inside me,” I warned, only to feel my own orgasm bearing down on me.

“Oh selkie, from now on, I only come inside you… my wife, my only,” Bran grunted.

I came hard, tightening all around him. He followed seconds later, pulsing deep inside me, filling me right up. There was something about knowing that there was nothing to stop me from getting pregnant that only made his claiming hotter. He was all in and had been from the start. There was something indescribably hot about that determined commitment. That was Bran O’Connor all over, reckless and impulsive until it mattered and then he was stone-cold serious. Unhinged, but serious at the same time.

I’d barely finished coming when he slipped free and turned me around, lifting me onto the sink.

“Lie back,” he said huskily.

I fell back onto my elbows, spent and satisfied, as he knelt in front of me. He picked up both my legs, placing my knees over his shoulders so his face was nestled against my pussy.

“What are you doing?” I murmured when he leaned in and licked my clit, making me squirm.

“Doc’s order… apparently female orgasm can make the sperm travel further, increasing the chances of pregnancy,” he said, and lifted his head to smile at me. “So, this is science.”

“I’ve already come,” I pointed out.

He nodded. “Yes, you’ve come once… but this pretty little cunt is still full of my cum. I figure coming a whole lot more will only make it more effective.”

“You’re literally leaking out of me right now,” I protested, the thought of coming again right now almost more than I could take.

“Hmmm, once you stop leaking, I’ll just refill you…” He grinned at me like his plan was perfectly reasonable. “Hold on, selkie, it’s going to be a long, long night.”

Then he lowered his mouth, fastened it around my clit, and got to work.