Malicious Wedding – Crowley Mafia Family Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
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I shiver slightly, looking away. We are still married, but it’s odd to think of him as my husband. I look down at the ring, turning it over and over, before I slip it onto my finger.

Just like last night, it feels good.

“I should go talk to him.”

“Good luck.” Bernie grins at me. “I’ll be here, wallowing in my self-pity.”

“Want me to see if Jams and Keels can come over?”

“That’d be good, actually. Those two will distract me enough that I won’t have to think for a few hours.”

“God, they’re going to freak when they see this place.” I get up, laughing to myself. “I’ll run it by my husband, but I think it’ll be fine.”

“You’re really doing this, huh?”

“I’m giving it a shot. I think I owe it to myself to try.”

“Good for you.” She cocks her head. “You know, this might be the only decision you’ve ever made all for yourself, without Carson getting involved at all. Funny how he’s still a part of it.”

“Don’t tell him that.” I leave her to digest before lingering in the hall.

Am I really doing this? For the last month, I’ve been trying to get Carson out of my head, but now he comes storming back into my life and I’m suddenly ready to forgive him?

All because he said the right thing and did it without prompting.

That bastard.

I wave down a staff member lingering at the end of the hall. She comes over, looking abashed. “Yes, Mrs. Crowley?”

I consider correcting her, but figure she’ll just apologize for the better part of an hour and still call me by that name anyway. “Do you know where Carson is?”

Her eyes flit to my fake apartment. “He, uh—”

“Thank you,” I say, turning away. I won’t make the poor girl admit she knows about the creepiness that is my bizarro-apartment. I walk over, hesitate for only a second before stepping inside.

Carson’s sitting on my couch. My actual old couch. In some upside-down world version of my apartment, which is still insane to look at, like I’ve stepped through a portal back in time. He glances over, taking a break from looking at his phone.

“You’re here,” he says simply.

“I’m here.”

His eyes stray down to my hands and he sits up straighter. “You’re wearing it.”

I cover the ring with my other hand. “Don’t get excited.”

“You’re wearing my ring.” He slowly stands, phone tossed aside.

Shit, I’m already losing control.

“Carson.” I back up, hands raised. “Listen for a second.”

“You are my wife and you are wearing my ring.” He advances on me like a hungry wolf.

Ah, crap. I didn’t think this one through.

“Just stop for a second.” He pins me up against the wall next to the mirror I used to check my hair in every day before leaving for Smoke. Weird. His lips brush against my throat and he releases a low snarl. I barely manage to hold him back. “Carson! Listen to me!”

“I’m listening, but it won’t last long. Talk fast.”

My heart’s racing as excitement tears into my chest. His want, his pure lust is addictive. “You can’t ever lie to me again.”

“I swear.”

“Even lies by omission. You’ll tell me everything.”

“Always.”

“And choice, I need choice. Which you’ll respect, even if you don’t like it.”

“Even when I don’t like it,” he echoes, kissing my neck. “Can I fuck you now?”

“Carson.” I put my hands on his chest and his heart is racing. “You are mine as much as I am yours. Do you understand?”

“I can work with that.”

“You are beyond frustrating.”

His thumb grazes my low lip. “I swear to you, Ashlyn, my wife, I will give you everything. All my truth, all my ugly reality, and you will always have a choice in what happens. I will not force anything on you. I will not do anything without your permission. All my broken tangles are yours to unwind, if that’s what you want. Leave me shattered, if that’s what you need. None of it matters, so long as I have you. I’m sorry it took me this long to understand.”

“Trial basis. Me and you.”

He inclines his head. “Trial basis.”

I bite my lower lip then slowly nod. “Okay,” I say.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, you may fuck me now.” I lean forward, halfway to kissing him. “Husband.”

He releases an animal snarl before burying my mouth with his. All my hidden wants, all my pent-up desires, they come flooding out the moment our lips meet, and I can’t stop the whimper that rips its way up my throat. His kiss is perfection, his taste is too much, and I’ve been wanting this for weeks now. Having him this near, feeling him like this again, it’s like finding my way back home.

His hands explore me, his mouth moves to my neck, and soon my clothes are in a pile on the floor. I lie back on the couch as he kisses me, sucking my nipples, spreading my legs, teasing my pussy, devouring me. I come twice before he even takes off his pants. I’m sweating by the time he’s deep between my legs. I scream his name, call him my husband, and come like the world’s going to end. He’s a dream between my legs, he’s the heaven in my veins, and when I collapse onto my old bed in my strange fake room with his arms wrapped around my body, none of the weirdness matters.


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