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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My pulse races, pounding into my ears, singing her name. Ash, Ash, Ash. Beneath my skin, there’s only my wife.

But I don’t want to fuck her.

No, I need something better.

“You deserve this,” I growl as I kiss over her panties. I lick and suck before shoving them aside. “Beautiful girl. I want to kneel before you my whole life. I want to worship you. Sing your praises. Dedicate myself to your mystery.” I lick her skin, her folds, the tip of my tongue tightening as I find her clit. I lap it up, purring. “This is my new faith. I can spend my life worshipping you, my angel, my obsession. My lovely Ash. Your taste, your moans. I want to study you, find out every little detail of your perfect little pussy, find out what makes you quiver, makes you scream. I want to watch you come, again and again, because you have no clue how much I delight in making you feel good.” I suck her, licking faster, and slide a finger deep inside.

She’s tight and warm, honey and perfection.

“Fuck, Carson,” she gasps, shuddering. “You’re absolutely fucking insane right now.”

“You like it.” I slide my finger in deeper, curling, teasing her as I keep licking her clit. “You love how badly I want you. I’m the most devout husband you’ll ever find. You’re my guiding star, you’re my new goddess. I don’t care how many rules I’m breaking, all I care about is you.”

“Fuck,” she moans, the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard in my life. “You’re scaring the shit out of me, you know that?”

“I don’t care.” I keep going, faster, listening to the sounds of her body, to the lovely noise of her wet pussy. I brush my stubble against her, wanting her to soak into me, wanting every inch of her so badly it’s like a compulsion. “I need you to come for me, Ash. Come for me, my wife, my angel.” Faster, sucking and licking, fucking her with my finger. Her hips writhe, grinding into my face.

“Carson,” she moans, tone dipping low. “Oh my god, Carson.”

And finally, finally, yes, fucking finally, her sweet taste floods my mouth as her whole body tenses, twitching, and she comes in a propulsive gasp, her fingers digging painfully into my hair, her hips grinding into my tongue. It’s perfection, it’s nirvana, it’s filling every need and every gap in my life all at once, in one flash of beautiful pleasure.

I don’t stop until she’s leaning back against the tree, breathing hard. Sweat drips down her forehead. I stand, licking my finger clean, and step back.

She’s flushed pink. Her mouth’s hanging open. Her breasts rise and fall. Her nipples are still hard. Her hair’s askew, her pants are around her knees.

And she looks like heaven.

I hold that for a moment before closing in on her again and pulling her into my arms. She’s limp, pliable, and hugs me back.

“You’re terrifying,” she whispers. But she’s grinning.

“Good.” I kiss her lips, wanting her to taste herself on my tongue. “You don’t know the half of it yet, my angel.”

“You keep calling me that.”

“Because that’s what you are to me. Something perfect.”

“Crazy. You are absolutely insane.”

“Tell me you don’t like it.”

She groans, buries her face in my chest, and lets me hug her tight.

Chapter 19

Ash

Ash Crowley.

Ash Crowley.

Ashlyn Crowley.

No matter how many times I whisper it to myself, the name doesn’t make sense.

All my life I’ve been Ashlyn Locke. My father was Locke, my brother, my mother. To suddenly have a new name, with little to no notice at all, feels bizarre.

It feels wrong.

Except Carson seems like he’s floating on air. “Ash Crowley,” he says out loud for the hundredth time. Like he can read my mind. Even the voice in my head sounds like him, whispering that name. His eyes practically sparkle as Fitz takes us back into the city. “My wife, Ashlyn Crowley.”

“Would you stop that?” I glare at him, bumping his knee with my own. “Say it quietly if you can’t help yourself.”

“Was I talking out loud?” He seems surprised. “I apologize, Ashlyn Crowley, my wife.”

“You’re weirdly obsessed, you know that?”

“Better than you understand. It feels good knowing you bear my name now, like I’ve placed a claim on you.”

I roll my eyes. “What if I wanted to keep my maiden name?”

He hesitates. Some of his smile slips. “You don’t want to.”

“It wasn’t a part of the deal.”

“You’re my wife. You have to change your name.”

“I don’t have to do anything. In fact, I don’t recall signing any paperwork back there about it.”

He shifts to the side, turning to look at me. “Don’t test me.” Some of his joy leaks away as he glares.

“I’m only saying. We might be married, but I’m pretty sure we have one of those fancy newfangled marriages where the lady retains her name and, you know, doesn’t become the property of her big, bad husband.”


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