Lethal Vows Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
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Crue continues to thrust, and I feel another orgasm building inside me. How can he do that? “There she is,” he says as I come a second time and we finish together this time. He holds and moves back into the shower, turning the faucet on before putting me down and stepping back out. He walks to the sink, grabs a washcloth, and wipes himself clean while I stand there as the incredible feeling of hot water washes over me.

“Top two yet?” he asks.

“Possibly,” I reply casually as I rewash myself.

“I’ll make you admit I’m number one.” Crue does up his pants and walks out.

I finish up in the bathroom, only to enter the bedroom to find he’s already picked a dress from my closet and has it lying on the bed. It’s a long white dress with pink flowers in a design on the fabric. I slip it on and put my hair in a bun before applying light makeup.

He’s on his phone when I enter the living room, but he hangs up once I reach him.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes, as long as it’s not another “parent” surprise.” I use air quotes as I deliberately roll my eyes.

“That’s impossible to do when you’ve already met my only living parent,” he replies. “And besides, she leaves tomorrow.”

“Angel too?”

“Yep. She leaves tomorrow as well.” Crue looks me over. “Beautiful as always.” He pulls me into him and holds tight.

“Heels or no heels?” I ask.

“Heels,” he replies.

I grab a pair of shoes at the door before we leave.

Crue stays quiet when we’re in the car. Occasionally, he kisses my hand as he grips it, our fingers intertwined. He’s not usually the chatty type, but an ominous silence surrounds him for our entire trip.

The car slows, parks, and he gets out, rounding the car. I have goose bumps running up my arms because something feels off. He opens my door, and as I look up we are in front of an old building. His fingers remain tightly intertwined with mine as we approach the entrance. Crue pushes the large doors open, and I spot Angel immediately when he does. She meets my eyes and just as quickly glances away. When I assess the space I find a man is standing at the far end.

Is this a church?

No way.

It can’t be. Right?

Angel and Dominic stand, and right next to them is Crue’s mother, who does not look happy to be here.

“Uh, Crue?” Crue doesn’t say a word as he leads me toward the unknown man, who, on closer inspection, is definitely a priest. “What is happening?” It takes me longer than it should to realize what’s happening. When it finally registers, I try to tug Crue back, but we’re already in front of the priest.

Finally, I can pull my hand free, and then I glare at Crue. “What are you doing?” I hiss.

“You told me not to ask you again,” he says like it should be obvious. “So I won’t.” He turns to the priest and nods his head.

“Welcome,” the priest says.

I place my hand on Crue’s cheek, turn his head to get close, and growl, “I will not marry you. How many times do I have to tell you?” I pull away and take a step back.

“Rya—” He starts, but I put up my hand.

“Sex does not mean I will marry you. What don’t you get about that?”

“I have to get married, Rya. I’d like it to be to you.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” I tell him.

“Oh, but I do. Please…” he slowly approaches me and cups my cheeks, “… let it be you.”

“I won’t marry you, Crue.”

“Well, this is fucking torture,” I hear Dominic mutter, but I don’t pay him any attention. Crue looks deep into my eyes, and the pleading look can only be described as desperate.

How is it possible this man could be desperate? He could have anyone he wants.

“This has to end,” I say out loud. “I have entertained this too long.” I shake my head. “I have to go.”

Crue’s hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, pulling me in close. That’s when his nostrils flare, and the vein in his neck pulsates like it might explode. His high chin and protruding eyes tell me he is more than angry. He is furious!

But does he not realize that what he’s done here is wrong on so many levels?

“I’ve played nice, and I’ve been patient,” he seethes.

“You shot a man for touching me!” I scoff and hear the priest behind us splutter, but he covers it with a cough. “Is that what you consider nice or patient?” I try to loosen his grip on me but he smirks and lifts his hand to the back of my head, then leans his forehead against mine. “Yes, because any other woman who dared say no, I would have made her crawl down that fucking aisle if she had half the attitude you do.” I try to push away, but he holds me tightly, and his eyes remain firmly on mine. “Marry me, or so help me God—”


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