Under Control – A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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He stoops down and kisses my neck. “Is that what you think?” He brushes his mouth up to my chin and grabs my wrists, holding them up above my head.

I’m so vulnerable for him right now.

“It’s the truth.”

He shakes his head. Water droplets scatter across the wall. “You’re right then. I married you to get closer to your uncle. But I defended you because of who you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

He bites my lower lip. I gasp at the pain.

“You will.”

“Asshole.” I try to push back against him, but he’s got me under his control. “What don’t you get right now? It’s my fault all those men are dead.”

“No. It’s my fault.”

“Valentin—”

“Enough,” he says with force now. His voice echoes in the enclosed space. “Are you the Pakhan of the Zaitsev Bratva? Was it your idea to enter into that negotiation? Did you punch Aram in the face and break that fucker’s nose for daring to insult your wife? No, all of that was me. Don’t you dare try to take responsibility for things that I did. I have no regrets.”

“How?” I ask, staring into his gorgeous face. Anger and beautiful rage flow off him like an aura. The bathroom practically shivers with the emotions spilling from my husband right now. “How do you have no regrets?”

“Because I would kill a thousand men to protect the honor of my wife.”

“You’re insane.”

“This is the sanest I’ve ever been.” He’s inches from me, and I’m afraid. I’d be insane if I weren’t. This is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault. “Look at me.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I just⁠—”

“Look at me,” he commands and pulls my face up to meet his. “You did nothing wrong. I should have prepared you better. It’s my fault I didn’t warn you that they might try to bait you into saying or doing something. I dragged you into a painful and difficult situation, and everything that happened was my fault.”

“All those men. They died, Valentin, because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“Those men died to protect their Pakhan. They died because they are loyal to the Bratva and for no other reason. Your hands are clean.” He grips my wrists harder and his mouth moves along my throat. “Your hands are clean,” he whispers.

And I shiver as his lips find mine. He kisses me gently at first. Softly, slowly, biting my lower lip, parting my teeth. I don’t want to open up for him but a ringing and a pounding in my chest and between my legs intensifies, and I know I can’t resist him. I know I’m too weak to turn away or to use the one word that will make him stop.

Need floods me. It wars with my self-loathing. His tongue slides into my mouth and slowly his kiss turns deeper, harder, as he pushes himself into me, crushing me with his mouth, bruising me with his gorgeous body. The kiss turns vicious, almost violent, as he tears into me, before pulling back, and the hooded, heady gaze he gives me destroys my ability to think.

The man is sex and sin and he kills me. He’s going to break me to pieces.

And that’s exactly what I want.

I push myself against him, throwing myself into his touch. He growls as soon as he senses my reaction. I shiver in bliss and his mouth finds my nipple and he sucks down, biting gently, sending pleasure and pain ripping into my system. He releases my wrists and wraps one hand in my wet hair while the other roughly shoves my thighs open.

“I take all the responsibility,” he whispers as his fingers slide deep into my pussy. I shiver and whimper, my teeth biting down on his collarbone. He drives his fingers in deeper, curling them, making my back arch. “I will never let them hurt my wife. I will never let them disrespect what’s mine.”

“Yours?” I pant, mouth hanging open. “Still yours?”

“Still fucking mine.” He kisses me hard before turning me around and putting my hands up on the wall. His cock presses against my entrance before he slides himself deep inside of me.

I gasp, arching my back, taking all of him deep. He growls in my ear and fucks me hard, one hand pulling my hair, the other tugging at my hip.

It’s vicious and rough, and it’s what I need. He erases all the negative emotions that have been rolling roughshod through my system for the past hour. His hands, his mouth, his cock, every inch of him, the ice-cold god of death and war and sex, he rips into me and makes me his.

And I feel protected. I feel wrapped in him. It’s strange and impossible, but somehow, with his dick buried between my legs, I feel like I’m safer than I’ve ever been.


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