Possessed by the Killer (Dark Possessive Mafia)

He shook his head and took my hand again. “Come on,” he said.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to give you a wedding present.”

I let him tug me across the vast living room, down a side hall and out another door, across the driveway, and over to the huge detached garage. He flipped on a light and gestured to a compact black convertible sitting in the center of the space with a huge white bow on the hood.

“What the hell is that?” I asked, staring at it.

“That’s for you,” he said. “Keys are in the glovebox. I figured you’d need something, if you’re going to get around.”

“I thought I needed protection.” I drifted over to the car and touched it. I guessed it was worth more than I’d ever owned in my entire life. The seats were light brown leather and there were gold-trimmed details all around the dash. I didn’t even recognize the brand symbol—some sort of snake.

“You do,” he said. “My guys have their own cars. But I’m serious about making you happy.” He came closer. “Do you like it?”

I turned to face him, leaning up against the hood. “I love it.”

“Good.” He stopped inches in front of me and touched my hips right where my dress flared out. “God, you do look good,” he whispered, and lifted me up. He sat me down on the car and I sucked in a breath as I wrapped my legs around him, my dress bunching up.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I know we won’t have a traditional wedding night,” he said, touching my cheek again, down to my bare shoulders and my collarbone. I felt a quiver on my spine and my lips hung open, still tingling from that kiss. “I’ll give you that, if you want it. But I have a feeling that you don’t.”

“This isn’t real,” I whispered. “You know why I did this.”

“For the money.” His fingers continued to trail down my chest, over my breasts, down my hips. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy our marriage.”

“Dean,” I said.

His hand moved up my dress, inside the layers of lace and silk, until he found the pale white panties I wore. He touched me gently at first, teasing me and, god, it felt good, and I hated him for it, hated the way he effortlessly moved around me, touched me like he was allowed to, gave me things like this absurd car, talked like he really cared about how I felt.

I knew what he wanted. And I knew what I wanted.

“We won’t have a typical marriage,” he whispered as his fingers rolled along my slit and, shit, I was so wet, I was soaking through already. I felt embarrassed and excited, my heart racing wildly, my vision going almost fuzzy. “I will want to make you come.”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, but he didn’t care. He pushed me back and I leaned onto my elbows as he lifted my dress up, and disappeared down between my legs.

For one second, I wasn’t sure if he would—until I felt his fingers push aside my panties, and his tongue and lips kissed my inner thigh, and god, I knew what he wanted as he got closer and closer.

There was something about not being able to see him as he licked my clit with the tip of his tongue. Hidden down there beneath the folds of my dress, I could picture any man at all touching me, imagine any guy licking the wet details of my pussy, rolling his tongue up and down, sucking my clit and teasing me with his fingers, but all I pictured was Dean, god, that man, that disgusting, perfect man.

He licked me faster and I spread my legs wider as pleasure blossomed all around my spine. I arched me back, fingers digging into the hood of the car, and I gasped as he slid his fingers inside and his tongue licked me faster, sucking with his gorgeous lips.

“You made a hard decision today,” he purred as he fucked me with those fingers and teased me with that tongue. “I respect you for it, my Mags. I want to give you something as a reward.”

“The car’s not enough?” I asked, then gasped as he did something delicious that I couldn’t see. “Oh my god. Do that again.”

And he did, and I let out an incredible low moan as my eyes rolled back.

He chuckled softly. “The car’s just the start,” he said, and kept going, sucking my clit harder and faster, tongue rolling around in perfect circles like he owned me and knew every inch of my skin already.

I felt a shudder, my arms shaking, my legs trembling, and I stared up at the peak of the ceiling, the spotlights shining down on me in a wedding dress, my new fake husband between my legs licking my pussy and, god, it was wrong, and it felt so good, and I squeezed my eyes shut as he went faster, faster, taking me, tasting me, and didn’t stop as I came on his tongue in a rush of pleasure so sharp that I said his name. My skin flushed and I panted, over and over, Dean, oh, god, Dean, and I came in a massive, explosive, skull-blackening tidal wave of pleasure.