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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Instead, I accept his attempts at distracting me, because maybe he’s right. I need sleep, and I’m pretty sure my brain’s not going to shut up unless someone forces it to.

“I agree, I’m persistent, but that’s a good quality in my line of work.” His mouth finds my lips, kissing softly. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for every problem that arises from our union.”

“Our union? That’s putting it nicely.”

“You know what I’m saying.” He presses me down tighter, staring into my eyes. “Forgive yourself.”

I keep my mouth shut. If he only understood what he was saying—well, if he knew the full extent of what’s happening, he wouldn’t be talking to me like this.

The thought terrifies me.

Even after all my other problems are solved, I’ll still be pregnant with his child.

And he still doesn’t have a clue.

He kisses me. I throw myself into that kiss, ready to embrace my distraction to the fullest extent. His growl in response is low and sultry, a beautiful groan of lust and need, and it drives a wedge of excitement into my core.

His thigh presses between my legs. I grind into him, needy, feeling like my brain might explode from the pressure. There are too many problems, too many ways this can shatter into a million pieces, and I’m terrified of them all.

“This is what I love about you,” he murmurs as he pulls off my top then kisses down my throat to my breasts. He licks my nipples, sucking them, making them even stiffer than they already were. Each beat of my heart is a steady pulse of need. I want this man, more than I’ve ever wanted before. I shouldn’t—if I were a normal person, I’d be running the hell away.

Instead, the more time we spend together, the more I feel like I’m drifting closer to him.

“Tell me more,” I murmur, grinning as he slips my shorts down my legs.

“You have that filthy, frustrating mouth,” he says, kissing my inner thigh. “You love to fight. You’re stubborn as all hell. But the moment I touch you, suddenly it all melts away.”

I groan as his tongue finds my wet pussy, lapping me up. “Don’t make me say the safe word.”

“You won’t.” He sucks me, slides his fingers inside. “You know why?”

“Go ahead, tell me. Maybe that’ll piss me off enough to end this.”

“You won’t say it because you like the way this feels. You want the power to get away, but you don’t want to use it. Because you love it when I’m down between your legs.”

“Fucker,” I whisper, but he’s so damn right. It feels too good to stop. I’m grinding against his face, whimpering, soaking wet and needy, and all my problems vanish. I’m dimly aware that this sort of lust is what got me into trouble in the first place, but whatever—he’s too damn good at what he does to stop now.

I let him have me. I obey, even when I want to fight. That’s the contradiction. His hands grip my hips, his mouth buries mine, and I taste my pussy on his tongue as he undresses. His thick tip presses against my wet clit until he slides down, finally pushing inside of me, holding me down as he fills me to the brim.

“Lovely wife,” he purrs in my ear. I’m wrapped around him, brain crackling with pleasure. “My perfect something. My absolute everything.”

“Keep going,” I whimper. “Fuck me, Nolan. Stop talking and fuck me.”

He slides in and out, agonizing, teasing. “I want you to call me your husband before I give you what you need.”

“No,” I say, digging my fingers into his back. “Fuck me. Don’t make me beg, you asshole.”

“Oh, yes, that’s what I want, beg for me, darling. Tell me how much you love it.”

“Damn you,” I groan, shivering. “You feel so fucking good. I hate that I want this so badly. I hate that the second you’re inside of me, it’s like all my walls are gone. I can’t stop myself when you touch me.”

“That’s what I love,” he growls as he fucks me faster, sliding in and out, nice and deep.

I keep going, unable to stop. “You’re selfish. You’re dangerous. I’m pretty sure you’re going to ruin me before this is all over.”

“I never would,” he says, holding my hands above my head, fucking me faster.

“You might not mean to, but you will.” I’m moaning, grinding against him, so slick, covered in a sheen of sweat. “You’re going to break me, Nolan. Break my heart, ruin my life. And you know what’s messed up?”

“Tell me,” he says, sounding desperate, sounding on that edge of pleasure and pain.

“I want it,” I moan. “God, I want it so fucking bad.”

“Tell me what I need to hear.” He stares into my eyes. “Say the word.”

“Husband.” I gasp as his thrusts turn rough. “Husband, fuck me, husband, fuck me.”



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