The Killer's Fake Bride: A Possessive Dark Mafia Romance

by Hamel, B. B.

  The spark was there, damn it. Her lips were full and tasted like cherries, and her tongue was like silk against mine. She sucked in a breath through her nose and I pulled her tighter against me. I hadn’t realized how small she was—tiny almost in my arms. I moved back to grip her thick red hair and tightened my fist in it, pulling her head back as I kissed her neck.

  I should’ve stopped and walked away.

  I had a mission. Cullen was my target, not this girl. Not this Sam.

  Instead, my hand moved down her hips as I kissed her again, and this time she responded by grabbing at my shirt and tugging it out of my slacks. I let out a soft grunt of pleasure as she unbuckled my belt, opened it, then started on my shirt.

  I let my jacket fall down to the floor. It hit the carpet with a soft thud and I hoped she hadn’t noticed. I’d forgotten about the silencer.

  But she didn’t say a word. I moved her back to the bed as I pulled the gun from my pants and dropped it down on top of my jacket. It hit without a sound.

  I kissed her at the foot of the bed as my fingers moved up her dress until I found the zipper in the back. I slowly pulled it down and she let out a soft gasp of pleasure as I pulled the dress forward, then stepped back.

  It dropped down like a puddle at her feet.

  I stared at her as I unbuttoned my shirt. She blushed at me and looked away, then met my eyes.

  She was incredible. Better than I could’ve guessed. Full, pert breasts covered by a lacy black bra and a pair of lacy black panties to match. She chewed her lip as I took off my shirt, and enjoyed the way she looked hungrily at my chest and my stomach and my muscular arms.

  I dropped my shirt on top of the gun, making sure it was covered.

  “You came prepared.” I stared at her matching bra and panties.

  “I just always look like this,” she said, her confident little smile back.

  “Turn around.”

  She hesitated, then obeyed. I loved a woman that obeyed. I looked at her tight, perky ass, and felt my cock strain against my underwear. I took off my slacks and kicked them aside before I pressed myself against the back of her, my cock against her ass, my hands on her breasts. I kissed her over her shoulder then unhooked her bra and teased her hard nipples. I turned her again, kissed her neck, her collarbone, her chest, licked a nipple in circles, then hefted her up into the air.

  She kissed me wildly, all her shy hesitation gone. I dropped her down onto the bed and pinned her to it, sliding one hand down the front of her panties while the other held her wrists up above her head. She moaned as my fingers moved along her soaking wet, slick pussy, and I knew she’d wanted this since the moment she spotted me downstairs.

  “Tell me you want me to fuck you,” I whispered as I bit her nipple then her lip and teased her clit with my fingers. “Tell me you want this as bad as I do.”

  “I want it,” she said then buried her lips against mine.

  I felt wild and out of control. This was going all wrong—I should’ve been trying to kill Cullen.

  Instead, I had to take Sam. I had to taste her.

  I slipped down between her legs and peeled her panties off. Her pussy tasted like heaven as I lapped her up, tongue rolling along the length of her lips before I spread her wide and sucked on her clit. I moved my tongue faster and faster, slid my fingers deep inside, and her moans got louder as she dug her fingers into my hair.

  I couldn’t take this much longer. I moved up and kissed her and she pulled off my boxer briefs like she couldn’t stop herself. I moved aside to get them off, and she took my cock in both hands while I lay on my back. She took me into her mouth, moaning as she sucked my cock, and I teased her pussy as she buried me into her throat. Fuck, she was incredible, and I groaned with the wild pleasure of it.

  I pushed her back down, held her hands above her head, and slid myself deep between her legs.

  She took every inch, and god, it was perfect.

  Her hips wiggled side to side as I started to fuck her. Her breasts shook with every thrust, and I licked her nipples, then kissed her neck. I wanted to see this girl come, wanted to see her skin flush with pleasure, wanted to see her sweat.

  I fucked her faster, then slowed, then fast again. I teased her clit and bit her nipples and licked her lips.

  “You feel like heaven,” I whispered in her ear. “I’d take you a thousand times before I’d touch another girl in this city. Where have you been hiding?”

  “Right here,” she gasped as I stroked her deep. I loved the way she arched her back, loved the line of her collarbones, her small, pink, stiff nipples. Her skin was smooth and pale and her eyes stared up at mine and burned like fire, and her dark red hair fanned out around her like flames.

  She climbed on top of me and I let her ride. I loved her ass, spanked it hard, pulled her hair. She put her hands on my chest and rode, faster and faster, moaning the whole time. I watched a drop of sweat roll down her forehead, then down between her breasts.

  I licked it up. I fucked her faster and whispered in her ear. “I want to watch you come. I want to taste it when you’re done. You hear me, Sam? I want you to come on my thick cock and thank me for it when you’re finished.”

  “Oh, god, yes,” she moaned. “Fuck me, Matteo. Keep going.”

  I pinned her down and gave her what she wanted. I slid in and out, blinding and wild and dizzy, and I didn’t know how long we’d been fucking, or how much longer we possibly could. It was like the pleasure overwhelmed me, threatened to short circuit my brain, and I loved riding that edge, getting right up against it and moving along it forever. I kissed her, tasted her tongue, and her back arched, her head tipped back. Her eyes opened wide as she gasped my name, and I felt her pussy clench down as she dug her fingers hard into my back.

  She came in a wild wave, in the most gorgeous shuddering gasp I’d ever seen. She was beautiful, perfect, the epitome of lust and sensuality. How I’d picked this girl, how I’d found her, I didn’t know how I could’ve gotten so lucky, and I kept fucking her as she finished, kept going faster until I felt my own orgasm explode in between her legs.

  She moved her hips and took every drop of me inside her. We kissed for what felt like hours until she collapsed back onto the bed, sweating, panting, exhausted.

  And sure enough, her skin was covered in a gorgeous pink blush.

  “Look at you,” I whispered, kissing her neck. “Exactly what I wanted.”

  “Yeah? You came here looking for me?”

  I remembered Cullen then, my target.

  Fucking hell. I didn’t know how long I’d been with Sam, but it must’ve been a while, based on how tired I felt.

  “Absolutely,” I said, kissing her softly. “Came looking just for you, and I’m glad I found you.”

  “I’m glad too.” She sighed and stretched like a cat.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, getting out of bed.

  She sat up on one elbow. “You’re running out on me? Could’ve at least waited until I fell asleep.”

  “Not leaving,” I said, tugging my pants on and slipping the gun into my waistband as subtly as I could. I pulled my shirt on overtop and left it untucked. “Getting some drinks. I’ll be back.”

  She gave me a shrug and fell backwards. “I wasn’t done with you, so don’t be long. I figure, if I’m having a one-night stand, I’m having an all-night stand.”

  I laughed and admired her before I stepped back into the hallway.

  The orgy was still going strong downstairs, but it was definitely later and quieter. There were fewer voices in the party now, and I guessed some of the guests had left. One of the two doors was open, and I stuck my head inside: no Cullen and no sign of him.

  I considered the closed door. Could be him, or could be someone else. I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob then stifled a groan. I’d left the fucking silencer in the room.

  No time to go back for it. Sam wouldn’t let me leave again and I doubted I’d be able to walk out a second time, not w
hen she was naked and wanting more.

  One shot then I’d run. That was my only plan. Out a window maybe, or right down through the orgy. They were too busy fucking anyway.

  I gripped the gun, turned the knob, and shoved the door open.

  A couple moved under the sheets. The room was dark, almost black. I hustled forward as a face popped out from beneath the sheets.

  “Private party,” the guy said. “Fuck off, asshole.”

  Not Cullen. Definitely not Cullen. The guy was bald and old, at least in his fifties. The girl beneath him stared at me with an almost bored expression.

  “My mistake.” I tucked the gun away.

  “Prick,” the guy said, then went back to fucking his girl.

  I slipped out of the room and shut the door behind me.

  “Shit.” I leaned my head against the door.

  Cullen was gone. Maybe he was downstairs—but that wouldn’t matter. I couldn’t exactly kill him in a room full of Healy people anyway.

  I had my chance, and I missed it.

  I looked toward the shut door at the end of the hall. I could leave, go home and get back to planning on what I’d do next. I killed Sean for this shit, and he was a good informant, even if he didn’t realize I was using him for information.

  I blew my chance, blew it to hell.

  Or I could go back into that room, forget about Cullen, and let myself be with that gorgeous girl.

  The choice was obvious. Cullen was gone and my mission was fucked, so I might as well enjoy the night.

  I snuck into the bathroom, hid the gun under the sink behind a mountain of toilet paper, then went back into the room.

  Sam was kneeling on the bed looking back at me with a coy little smile. Her skin glistened with drying sweat and she looked shy, uncertain, and absolutely perfect.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “All good.”

  “You didn’t come back with drinks.”

  I hesitated then laughed. “The orgy’s in full swing,” I said, shrugging. “Didn’t want to wade through the mess.”

  “I wasn’t thirsty anyway.” She walked toward me. “Look, I really don’t do stuff like this, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, and I honestly believed her.

  “We’re having one night. That’s all, one night, and then nothing else.”

  “One night,” I repeated.

  “And nothing else.” She reached out for me and I went to her. She began to unbutton my shirt again. “But for tonight, we might as well enjoy it, right? I mean, we’ve already come this far.”

  “Listen to you.” I smirked and teased her lower lip with my thumb. She took it into her mouth and sucked it slowly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess that you want me to make you moan like you’ve never come before in your life.”

  She pulled back. “Make me scream, if you can.”

  “I’ll certainly try.”

  And with that, I pushed her back onto the bed, and after about a half hour of teasing, I achieved my goal—more than once.

  2

  Sam

  I sat alone in the bathroom at my dad’s house and stared at the pregnancy test on the sink. The wallpaper was blue and peeling at the corners, and a fuzzy yellow toilet seat cover itched under my thighs. The room hadn’t been updated since the eighties, and since my mom died giving birth to me and my dad didn’t care about decor, I doubted it ever would.

  The pregnancy test stared right back.

  I couldn’t be pregnant. Or at least I shouldn’t be pregnant.

  I covered my face in my hands and tried not to cry.

  My entire life so far, I tried to do what was right. I followed the rules, I did well in school, I didn’t have many boyfriends, I kept my nose clean. I did a couple years in college and got an associate’s degree, which was better than anyone else in my family ever did, and I tried not to let the Healy family suck me down into their insanity.

  I did everything right. Except one week, I messed up my birth control, went to an orgy, and slept with the most gorgeous stranger I’d ever met.

  For one night, I decided to stop being so good and try being like everyone else around me.

  The Healy bastards all got away with it. My dad, his brothers, Uncle Colm, cousins and second cousins and whatever. They did drugs, they drank, they slept around, they got in fights, and most of the time it was fine, they got away with it.

  I decided to say forget it and let down my walls, and now I might be pregnant.

  All because of that guy, Matteo.

  I still didn’t know who the hell he was.

  That night was a blur. I only went because I was curious. I wasn’t supposed to go—blood family wasn’t invited to those kinds of parties for obvious reasons. But I grew up hearing about the legendary Healy parties for the rank and file members, nights full of sin and drugs and sex and flesh, and I wanted to see what it was like.

  I wanted to let my guard down a little bit, for once in my boring life.

  Well, I succeeded at least. I let my guard down. I had the best sex of my life, without a doubt. I fucked Matteo over and over, did things with him that I never thought I’d do with anyone, and reveled in the pleasure he gave me.

  Then in the morning we parted ways and didn’t exchange numbers.

  One night, that was all.

  I thought I got it out of my system. I went home to my dad’s house, slept all day, then went to work the next morning. I kept out of trouble again. I went back to my old, boring life.

  Except my old, boring life was now completely blown up.

  My phone’s timer chimed. I jumped, almost screamed. I covered my mouth then leapt for the test.

  Two lines.

  I was pregnant.

  I dropped the test and it clattered into the sink. I covered my mouth as a sob escaped my lips.

  Pregnant. I was pregnant. Knocked up by that stranger Matteo, the guy I didn’t know, couldn’t reach even if I wanted to.

  Some random Healy family goon.

  And I couldn’t tell a soul. My father would murder me—literally, he’d kill me. My uncles would be worse. Uncle Colm would drown me in the Schuylkill and rip my picture from the family photo albums. No niece of the Healy family was supposed to get pregnant without being married first.

  My life was over.

  I took another test, just to be sure, and it confirmed it. I left the bathroom feeling dizzy and clammy and scared as all hell.

  Dad sat in the living room watching TV. He wore a white tank top and a pair of cargo shorts with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. My dad was a prominent member of the Healy crime family, brother of Colm himself, though he didn’t take an active leadership position. He stayed in the background and ran a crew, happy to reap in the rewards and profits without taking the massive risk of sitting atop the mountain itself.

  I locked my bedroom door. Not that it would stop my dad if he got pissed, but it might slow him down. I paced around the tiny space and stared down at my bed and seriously considered climbing in, pulling the covers up over my head, and staying there for the rest of my life. Maybe I could have the baby under there and raise it away from society, hidden in a pillow and blanket fort where nobody could ever bother me.

  Wishful thinking. I was a Healy girl, and that meant the family expected certain things for me. At the most basic, I was supposed to show my face from time to time.

  I grabbed my phone and texted Nessa. She was another Healy girl, though not by blood. Her dad joined the family a long time ago and we were practically raised as sisters. I need to talk, really important, I typed. Meet me right now?

  Nessa got back almost immediately. I knew she would—that girl had her phone glued to her face. She always talked about starting a TikTok and getting popular or something like that, and I kept having to remind her that we’re a bunch of Philly girls raised in the middle of a violent gang, there was no way in hell her dad or her cousins would ever let her get anywhere near a popular
TikTok account, but a girl could dream, I guess.

  Meet at the swings, she said.

  Leaving right now. I shoved my phone in my pocket, yanked a sweatshirt over my head, then put the pregnancy tests in the pouch as an afterthought. My dad didn’t even look up when I walked past him and out the front door, slamming it with a loud bang.

  Philly was my home and the only place I ever knew. We lived on a quiet block in West Philly, not too far from UPenn. Lots of college kids were in the area, but they were nerdy Ivy League brats, so they tended to keep to themselves—and those that didn’t got told what the score was by the local Healy guys, and that usually shut them up. I walked along the block and nodded to a few people I knew, a couple Healy boys sitting on a stoop, a cousin and some distant aunt. I was related to all these people somehow, whether by blood or by circumstance, and my dad never got tired of reminding me about it.

  I was a Healy girl, through and through, and I hated it.

  The school was around the corner and up ahead. Young guys played basketball on the court, half them shirtless. The playground was empty though like it almost always was, and I hustled to the swings.

  I was too old for this. Back when we were younger, Nessa and I used to come to this spot all the time to talk about our overbearing cousins and uncles and fathers. We’d endlessly discuss the Healy family and its insanely dense politics, with its relationships and strange entanglements, and always we’d agree that as soon as it was possible, we both wanted to get out.

  Now I was twenty, and I knew that wouldn’t ever happen.

  I spotted Nessa hurrying over to me. Short, dark hair, big round eyes, pretty smile. She had a good figure but she always kept it hidden under big baggy pants and even bigger, baggier sweatshirts. She said it was easier than getting stared at all the time, which I totally understood. I looked down at myself, and realized I did the same thing.

  “‘Sup, ‘sup,” she said, nodding at me, and sat down heavily on the swing to my right.

  “Thanks for coming so fast,” I said.

  “Better than sitting around and watching my dad watch football again.” She sighed and leaned back, swinging slightly. “Did you hear about Desmond?”