Married to the Devil Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
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“Rafe… I can’t…”

“You will.” He slides in deeper. “Every. Single. Inch.”

“Rafe!”

He moans as he slides more, more, more. I didn’t know I could fit this much of a man inside me, but he keeps going, stretching me, taking me, in and out, deeper, deeper, until he gasps and says my name, and I’m right on the edge of crumbling to ash.

Like his knuckles.

Like my name.

Ash.

“June, doll,” he says, and the total lack of control in his voice is going to kill me. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“You weren’t⁠—“

He thrusts into me and I scream his name. Another thrust, and another, and now he’s fucking me, taking me like a beast and I’ve never experienced such dominant control, a cock spreading me and ripping me to my core, and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t, not when he’s whispering my name and saying how fucking good I feel and how badly he wants to lick my cum-drenched cunt, how he wants to make me messy and sloppy and moaning, how he’s going to fuck me until he fits, until my pussy’s ruined for any other man, until⁠—

“Fuck, Rafe!”

I arch and the orgasm is blinding. I shatter all over his dick, mindless, heavenly, blissful, and he fucks me through it like a savage, breaking me, supporting my body as he does it, moaning and snarling, and I feel him tighten as his cock glides in to the hilt, coming so hard it’s like I’m hammered at my edges, and I moan his name and tears roll down my cheeks as I nearly black out.

“Good girl, June, such a good girl,” he says as I start to come down, gasping for air, his cock buried between my legs, pulsing with the end of his orgasm. I feel him warm and wet inside of me. “Such a good girl. So lovely and pretty. Taking every inch. God, June, you feel so fucking good.”

He kisses me then. It’s not the kiss of a man spent, a man finished and satisfied.

No, it’s a promise.

That he cares. That he wants to make sure I’m okay.

But that he’s not finished with me yet.

He slides out and it’s like losing a piece of myself. I moan, slumping back against the glass. He lifts me and carries me to the couch, depositing me down. He leaves for a moment, then returns with another glass of freezing cold prosecco.

“Here, doll.” He drags me into his lap. I curl against him as he feeds me more of the drink. “You’re okay.”

“I’m very okay.” I lean my ear to his chest. Warm, muscular, his heart thudding a slow rhythm. “I might be broken and I’m pretty sure I’ll never walk straight again, but I’m okay.”

His chuckle is a low rumble. “You’ll survive, doll.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to laugh.”

“Seems you bring it out of me.”

I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. “Will you tell me something?”

“Go ahead and ask if you like.”

“How did you know my last name?”

He clucks his tongue and strokes my hair. “Don’t ruin the fun, doll.”

“But—“

“Tomorrow it won’t matter. Why worry about the details now?”

“Rafe—“

“Tomorrow it won’t matter,” he repeats. “There’s only tonight.”

I chew my lip. Now that I’m sinking away from the orgasm high, reality starts to reassert itself.

I’m in the most expensive suite in an extremely high-end hotel. I’m sitting mostly naked (parts of my dress are still draped off my body) in the lap of a terrifying, drop-dead gorgeous monster. I had the best sex of my life and I’m pretty sure he was right. I’ll be thinking about him for a very long time.

I can walk away now. Return to the room downstairs. Check on Beth and Marnie.

Go back to being myself.

“You’re right.” I tilt my chin toward him. He comes down for a kiss. I grab the back of his head and hold him, deepening and lengthening, until I feel him already beginning to stir. That massive cock is hard to ignore. “Just tonight.”

“That’s a good girl.”

“Now how about you show me the bed you promised?”

“We can do that.”

“Ah—“ He adjusts, his dick pressing to my ass. “We’re not going to make it, are we?”

“Most likely not.”

“How are you this hard already?”

“When I break, doll, I break all the way. It’s why I don’t do this often. It’s why I don’t take the risk.”

There’s a moment, a beat when he seems distant. What does he mean, the risk?

But he leans down and kisses me again, and all that’s forgotten, as he slowly removes what’s left of my ruined dress, and spends the next several hours getting to know every inch of my body.

Who the hell turned the lights on?

“Hey, Marnie, what are you—“ I squint at the room around me, disoriented for a moment.

Then the night before floods back. The ache between my legs where Rafe left me battered and heavenly. The luxurious bed like a pillow. No other drunken girls to deal with.


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