Damaged Vows – A Fake Marriage Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Crime, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
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“Yes,” I gasp, staring down at him, mouth hanging open. “Oh, yes, I want to come for my husband.”

He moans and the pure ecstasy in his expression at that word husband shoves me over the edge.

I come in an explosion that rides up my spine, stiffening my muscles, making my vision tunnel. I’m panting, my skin flushed. Spots form in my peripheral, and I’m gasping for air, but he’s relentlessly licking me, sucking me, growling like a beast as he does it. When I’m finally done, and I’m barely more than a twitching mass on the mattress, he makes me lick his fingers clean then buries my mouth with his.

“Wife,” he whispers when the kiss is over.

“Don’t get used to it,” I say, only half-awake again. I pull my robe around myself, rolling onto my side. “That was nice. Goodnight.”

His laughter drives me crazy as I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to convince myself that I didn’t just have the best orgasm of my life, and that I don’t want him to fuck me into a coma.

He settles himself behind me, his hard cock pressed against my ass, and holds me tight as we drift off together.

Chapter 17

Nolan

She’s still asleep when I come back to the room with coffee around ten the next morning. I set it out in the sitting area before lingering by the bed, watching her chest rise and fall. The robe she wore last night is askew, revealing her lovely breasts, her pink nipples, that smooth skin I can’t seem to get out of my head.

Marrying her is going to cause me so many problems.

I can already hear Carson’s rage in the back of my head. I know what he’ll say, all his arguments for why I’m making an enormous mistake, all of them boiling down to his precious wife.

None of that matters to me. Not right now, sitting in this hotel room with the morning light glowing on my wife’s skin.

No, right now, I feel like I made the greatest decision of my life.

I undress down to my boxer briefs then slip into bed. I move close to her, feeling the heat she left beneath the sheets, pulling her against me. She stirs, mumbling something, waking slowly. I lie close, my lips near her throat.

My wife. The idea seems absurd. Why did I go through all this trouble to marry this girl?

It won’t fix my problems. She won’t magically make my life better. If anything, now I’ve embroiled myself in about a dozen new issues that will demand my attention for months ahead.

Yet still none of it matters.

Not with her turning toward me with those big eyes. Her dirty-blonde hair askew. Her robe essentially worthless at this point. I gently nudge it open again and she does resist. She lets out a little whimper, grinding her hips closer to me, rubbing against my hard cock.

I kiss her. Gently, slowly. Exploring, testing. She kisses me back tentative at first, like she isn’t sure if this is a dream or reality, and she isn’t sure if she wants to wake up either way.

My kiss gets more insistent. Her mouth opens, her tongue rolls against mine. I pull her on top of me, sitting up, pushing her robe off. She lets it go, sits naked in my lap, only my boxer briefs separating her pussy from my thick, pulsing cock. I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’ve never wanted someone so badly before.

“Do you plan on fucking me without saying good morning?” she whispers as I kiss her neck.

“I was, but that’s out the window now.”

“Good morning, Nolan.”

“Good morning, my wife.” I bite her chin then her lower lip. “How did you sleep?”

“Like shit. You?”

“I slept very well, thanks.”

“What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe not to you.” She moves her hips, grinding against me, shuddering. “Tell me.”

“Around ten.” I groan, unable to help it as she keeps moving. She lets out these soft gasps of pleasure that drive me absolutely wild. Her wet pussy’s slick, soaking through my boxer briefs, the warmth of her core like an oven.

“You should’ve let me sleep more.”

“I planned to, but then I couldn’t help myself.”

“You need to learn self-control.”

“Maybe, but it’s my honeymoon, and I want my new wife.”

“Your temporary wife.” She pushes me back, her hands on my chest, her elbows pressing her breasts together.

I don’t think I’ve seen anything more beautiful in my life.

“I’ll take temporary if that’s the best I can get.”

“Please,” she says, closing her eyes, moving her hips. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Why can’t you accept that I want you?”

“I accept it. I can feel it. You want to fuck me. But you don’t want me.”

I sit up again, this time rolling her onto her back. She yelps in surprise as I lean back and take off my boxer briefs. I kneel between her legs, stroking myself with one hand, teasing her pussy with the other.


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