Bound to a Monster – Arranged Marriage Mafia Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
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“Why are you so obsessed with this?” I ask softly. I lean into his chest and breathe in his smell.

He tilts my chin up toward him. “I told you what my father used to do to me.”

I nod a little. I can’t imagine what that must have been like. He was basically a pincushion for his family. It’s no wonder he’s got a darkness inside of him. From a young age, he was taught that his life had no value.

That’s not how I see him though.

“I think when you told me about the baby, I realized it was an opportunity. Instead of treating someone like they’re disposable, I can treat them like they matter. Like you matter, and like our baby matters.”

“You want to do better than your father did. I get that.”

“It’s more than doing better. I want to fill a hole. I want to fix the wrongs he committed. I’ll be twice as good. I’ll be the best there is.” His voice takes on an edge, and I’m a little worried about the pressure he’s putting on himself.

But if I’m honest, I like how much he cares.

“Why don’t we just start with this?” I touch his chest with my fingers and tilt my chin toward him. “We’ve done a lot of fencing and, uh, other stuff. Maybe we can focus on, you know, normal things. Like getting to know each other.”

“You want to know my favorite movies?”

“Favorite movies, TV shows, music, I don’t know, all that stuff. I guess I just want to know the man I’m going to sleep in bed with.”

“Ask me whatever you want.”

“Okay, uh, right now?”

“Right now.”

“It doesn’t work like that. We have to, you know, spend time together.”

“And fucking you while wearing a fencing mask doesn’t count?”

Heat rises in my cheeks. “Not really.”

“But you like that.”

“I mean, yes, I like that, obviously.”

“Then it counts.”

I smack his chest lightly. “Stop. You know what I mean.”

He’s grinning at me and stoops down to press his lips to mine. I think he means it as a simple gesture, something light and not serious, but the kiss lingers for a beat too long, and I feel myself pressing into him.

We kiss like that. Our bodies tangle together. It’s not the frenzied hunger like usual, but something different, like we’re feeling each other for the first time. I let myself get lost in his kiss, and my experience focuses on his lips and his tongue and his whiskey-tinged taste. He’s sweet and musky, and I love the way he feels as his hands roam my body, not crossing lines or pushing limits for once, but only touching me.

A chill runs down my spine. I’m breathing hard when he finally pulls away. He’s giving me that terrifyingly sexy heavy-lidded stare again.

“Shower,” I blurt out.

“Shower?”

“I’m sweaty and gross. So shower⁠—”

“You think I give a shit about that?” He pushes me to the bed. I yelp and try to scramble away, but he catches me and drags me back with ease. “You know it only makes me want you more when you try to run.”

“That’s because you’re a freak.”

“Call me names all you want, little fencer, but we both know you like it too.”

He peels off my clothes. So much for bonding time. Instead, his mouth peppers my skin and dominates my nipples, sucking and teasing them. It’s a new experience—up to this point, we’ve been having strangely impersonal sex, but this is different.

He kisses me, my neck, my shoulders, really focusing his mouth on my skin. “I’ve missed this,” he murmurs, sucking one nipple. My back arches into him. “I like the mask. I like the way it makes me feel. I like fucking you into a little puddle when I’m wearing it. But I love the way you taste.”

“Lev,” I whimper. “I really am sweaty.”

“I told you already.” He kisses down between my legs and pins me there, one hand on my breast, the other across my hips. “I don’t care.”

His tongue laps me up and down. I groan and, god, I don’t care anymore either. Pleasure bursts into my core as I grind into his mouth and if he likes my taste, he’s getting plenty now. He licks and sucks me, going faster, and I’m shuddering and shaking as he does it, brain going wild with the ludicrously sexy growls he’s making as he slides two fingers deep inside my wet pussy.

“All mine,” he whispers and stares at me with pure devotion in his eyes.

When his tongue finds my clit, that’s enough. All my triggers pull and I explode on his mouth.

The orgasm breaks me. I shatter for him, and slowly, he pieces me back together with soft kisses and his firm hands.

“Now you may shower,” he says, and I laugh stupidly.

“Really? Now I have permission?”

“Yes, my wife, but not alone.”


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