Page 81 of Mafia Wedding

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Page 81 of Mafia Wedding

There seems to be no end to the thick, sticky cum rushing down my throat, and I love it. Every twitch of his cock has his fingers gripping my hair more tightly, and I love that even more. But it's when the violent movements of his cock finally fade, and he gently withdraws from my mouth before guiding me back up to my feet—-

I think it's this that I love the most.

This moment where his dark gaze meets mine, and we see in each other's eyes the truth we're now absolutely certain of.

I love you.

I love you.

The act of his cock pounding my pussy is just to see if we have chemistry, and we do. But it's when his cock slide inside my mouth that's the true test of our feelings: blowjobs can be fatal for him and degrading for me...but they can also be shatteringly beautiful when between two people in love.

And that's exactly how it felt, when I was sucking on his cock and swallowing his cum.

People will likely think we've gone mad to base our feelings on giving head...and I can't really say they're not right since I've always been a little crazy because of what I am, and Rake has to be a little crazy himself to want someone like me.

I love him, he love me, and that's that.

But both of us also know...the right time to say the words has yet to come.

RAKE IS STRUTTING LIKE a six-foot-plus peacock when we come out of the changing area, and it's annoying and strangely cute at the same time. I think he's mainly doing it to piss me off, but...whatever. I did what I did, and we both felt good about it.

'Nuff said.

Greg and Corey are already waiting for us when we step out of the shop, and the way they're grinning tells me they definitely knew about what went went down earlier—-or rather who went down on whom.

Huh.

How is it possible that it was only an hour or so ago when these two were practically shaking in fear in my presence...and yet here they are now, ribbing Rake and me about not being able to keep our hands off each other like teenagers.

I'm really starting to think something's seriously wrong with all of their heads, and maybe that's why the three of them are friends?

It's just a short walk from the shop to the port, and Rake's friends use the time to humor me with stories about their newly engaged friend. "Major" isn't actually a major at all as it turns out, but a nickname he earned on his first day on the job.

'Hi, I'm Royce, Jr. I majored in engineering and advertising.'

Corey's attempt to mimic how Major introduced himself to other newly recruited agents is hilarious, and it's when I feel my lips start to twitch that I realize this was Rake's plan all along.

Grrrr.

He made me think us attending this party is just a whim of his, but now I know it's simply his way of making sure his friends and I have enough time to realize we can actually get along. It's yet another sweet but misguided gesture—-

"Can I be the one to tell Major that Drake's fallen in love? Dude is going to be so psyched—-"

Greg freezes up like he's just yelled out God's name in a party full of Satanists, and it's only when I make a dismissive gesture with my hand that Rake's friend relaxes with a sheepish grin.

Amazing.

Does he really believe I'd automatically feel offended every time someone says a word with 'psych' in it in my hearing?

How this guy ended up working for the FBI, I honestly have no idea, but whatever the reason is, I'm betting it's also why being with Greg and Corey makes me feel normal...albeit in a mostly exasperated kind of way.

We spy a long queue of guests waiting to board the yacht when we reach the port, and it's while waiting for our turn that Rake suddenly cups hold of my cheeks.

Grr.

I try slapping his hands away, but he refuses to let go.

"Why do you keep trying to piss me off like this?" I snarl under my breath.


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