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.
He kept me going until it was too much. I pushed him back then collapsed onto the hood of the car, gasping for air. He appeared from beneath my dress with a smile on his lips, that gorgeous face, and licked his fingers clean.
“That’s my girl,” he said. “Now I need to go entertain your uncle and Father Giovanni for a while. You’re free to do whatever you want, Mrs. Valentino.”
“Right,” I whispered, and he left me there on the car, staring at the ceiling.
Mrs. Valentino.
Wife of the Don.
I didn’t know how I felt. I tried to squeeze my eyes shut and disassociate myself from the buzzing pleasure that still lingered, but I couldn’t quite separate my feelings for Dean from my feelings for that absolutely mind-numbing orgasm. This wasn’t what I wanted, wasn’t what I wanted at all.
I tried to keep my distance, I really did.
But the way he looked at me made me make very stupid decisions.
I opened my eyes again and sat up. The car shook beneath me as I slid back down then got behind the wheel. I opened the glove box and the keys were there, just like he promised.
I could drive anywhere right now. Nobody could stop me. A lonely girl in a convertible wearing a wedding dress probably wouldn’t get far, but I could try anyway. I could sell the car, buy new clothes, start a new life.
I never would and I knew it. Philly was my home.
Dean was my husband.
Ten million dollars was my goal.
I leaned the seat back and squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to cry.
7
Dean
Mags looked nervous as I parked outside of the dark club nestled in the heart of South Philly. The windows were blacked over with paper and the only light outside was the street lamp buzzing softly. Two guys stood out front, both of them packing.
“You’ll be great,” I said, touching her knee. I thought back to three days ago, to the moment after our wedding, to the taste of her pussy and the sound of her moans echoing off the metal walls of the garage. I wished I could’ve stripped her bare and slid myself deep between her legs but I got what I needed—and gave her a taste of what she could have.
He pulled her leg away. “I’m not worried about me,” she said.
“It’s all been arranged already,” I said, waving a hand. “They’ll proclaim me Don. Don’t worry.”
She shrugged a little. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders in waves. She wore a tight, low-cut top and black jeans that made her look like a model. I wanted to run my hands along her hips, but ever since I got her off, she hadn’t been very keen on letting me tease her.
Probably afraid, and I couldn’t be upset about it.
This was business, after all.
“My Uncle’s not a straightforward man,” she said softly. “I know we’re married, but I’m worried that won’t be the end of it.”
“It won’t,” I agreed. “But he’s satisfied for now.” I touched her arm, gently caressed it, then stepped out of the car.
She followed. I loved the way her hips swayed. She caught me looking and frowned, but said nothing.
The guards out front saluted and opened the door. “Don Valentino,” the guy on the left said, a stocky bald man named Trent.
I nodded back to them and stepped into the club.
It was packed with the most important men in the Valentino family. A somewhat plain-looking girl was up on the stage, dancing around the pole, her tits out. A couple guys threw twenties at her like they were singles. More men sat
