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Then his fingers twitch. Two shots, both through Roman’s heart.

Neither of them move. A distant buzz of shock hits my sternum, but no guilt or sadness follows. I’m not upset he’s gone—if anything, I’m relieved. Roman was a despicable man who hurt too many people. He needed to be killed, for the rest of us to heal.

Killian exhales, shoving off the wall. “Now it’s my turn.”

He leaves, and at my curious look, Briar winks. “Reaper is superb at cleanups. They’ll handle it, and I’ll take care of any digital footprint. Ready?”

“Almost.” Tugging him back into the hall, I drag him through the maze, back to the elevators.

When I hit the button, he asks, “Should I be worried?”

“Probably.”

The doors open on the second level, away from Hayes and Collins’s apartment. Sloane was still renovating another wing, though why I didn’t know. They had a penthouse, but she wanted a place here, too.

Further back, I pull him along, and he follows, a smile on his lips. Not the one he hides behind, not the devious one, but a pleasant one. My favorite.

I toss open his door and throw him inside. The room is exactly what I imagined before I found it. Dark furniture, a blue plaid comforter, and a desk with various mechanical items. The walls are still plastered with old movie posters—I smirk at the Transformers one. Of course, that would be his favorite.

Briar catches himself against the post and laughs.

“My old bedroom? How did you know where it was?”

“You snuck into mine. Did you really think I wouldn’t use the time to find yours?”

Placing my hands on his chest, I rub my nose against his. “Now strip.”

Briar does, without question, discarding his sweatshirt and jeans, tripping over his boots. Completely nude, I throw him back against the bed.

Stepping out of my soft mint-colored sundress, I straddle his hips, leaning forward. Our lips touch and a spark dances across my nerves. I’ll never get enough of the way my body responds to him. We were fated to fall in love.

Pulling back, his head drops to the mattress. “Have a thing for fucking in childhood rooms?”

“Call it a kink,” I quip. Returning to the closet, I hold up the device I purchased yesterday, when a devious thought took me.

The one thing about our relationship is our willingness to experiment. Anything I want, any whim, I can voice it, and he’s open to giving it a shot.

When his bright eyes see the strap-on, he swallows thickly. Heavy lust floats through his gaze, and he scans me, cock jerking in response.

“Well?”

“That looks like loads of fun for me, pun intended.” He smirks, sitting upright. “But how will it be fun for you?”

On the side, I hit the button, and the device vibrates. “It’s for us, both.”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes.

Stepping into the device, I adjust the sides, the vibrations indirectly hitting my clit. My body shudders, core fluttering. That’s new, and Dio, I like it.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll last long with this kind of stimulation. Holding the lube, I twirl my finger at my husband. “Turn around.”

He does, chuckling under his breath. His willingness has always been a turn-on.

Dripping the product onto the dildo and through his ass cheeks, I hum against the vibrations. Slowly, it winds me up, and leaning to the side, it gives me a little pressure. I moan, and he glances back at me.

“You don’t come yet, Sunshine. I demand it.”

My eyelashes flutter. “I’ll try.”