His Gothic Valentine Read Online M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 8166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 41(@200wpm)___ 33(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
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“Everett?” Rainn asks, confused.

“Don’t talk right now, Rainn,” I growl as I lift her in a fireman’s carry and toss her over my shoulder. The song slides into another, another one that I know, Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like A Wolf,” but again, it’s mixed with something else that’s turned into a sexy club song. What the hell kind of club is this?

“Put me down,” she shouts, hitting my back, but I ignore her. I remember seeing a little office off of the kitchen, so I push the swinging door open and head straight for it.

“Are you alright, Rainn?” the chef asks.

“She’s fine,” I answer gruffly.

“Alright, man,” he answers, going back to the grill.

“Gee, thanks, Tony.”

Inside the office, I set her down on the desk and begin to pace.

“What the hell were you doing?” I ask, still pacing.

“Dancing, My job. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t like that those other men could see you,” I say less gruffly than before. When I turn to look at her, she’s clutching the pearls at her chest.

“I’m fully dressed. Arguably too dressed. Kendra and Opal were the ones who were practically naked.”

“Who the fuck are Kendra and Opal?” I shout.

“The other cage dancers,” she says, smiling. I do remember that there were three cages when the place was empty last night.

“I didn’t notice anyone else. Just you.” We can still hear the music back here, and it changes once again to another song I know, “Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS, but again it’s mixed with another version.

“That makes me happy,” she says, and I pull her to the edge of the desk and bury my hands in her curly hair.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“What man doesn’t notice half-naked women?”

“One that can only see you. I love you, Rainn,” I say as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if I didn’t meet her just yesterday.

“I love you too,” she says softly.

“Marry me,” I ask, reaching into my pocket.

“Yes,” she whispers.” I slide the ring onto her finger. A perfect fucking fit.

“Thank fuck,” I groan and kiss her hard. She wraps her legs around my waist and grinds into my hard cock before pushing me away and standing and presenting her back to me.

“Help me with this?” she asks, and I get to work on the little buttons and bows on her back. Her back is covered in little red welts and scars from old welts.

“Holy shit,” I murmur, gently running my fingers over them.

“I don’t even notice them anymore,” she says, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Still. Why do you wear it if it’s painful?”

“Because it makes me feel pretty,” she says.

“You’re gorgeous no matter what you wear.”

“Thank you, but pain is beauty. Everyone says so,” she says, giggling. What an odd statement to make, then laugh, but I’ve never really understood women, so why would I magically start just because I am in love with one.

She peels her pants down as far as she can with those fuck-me boots on and bends over the desk. I run my hands over her ass and drop to my knees, eating her pussy from behind.

“Fuck. You’re so sweet,” I groan.

“No teasing, just fuck me,” she demands, and I can do nothing but acquiesce. Standing, I open my pants, shoving them down along with my boxers. I guide my cock into her pussy. She moans, and the other sound that fills the room is the sound of my hips hitting her over and over. I look down at her; her face is to the side. She’s biting those pearls to keep from screaming. I never thought pearls could be sexy until now.

What a way to celebrate our engagement. I can’t wait until she’s my wife; what an adventurous life we’ll have.

Epilogue

RAINN

Four Days Later

Who would have thought we were both Catholic enough to have to Catholic ceremony? Four days later, I am getting married to the man of my dreams, and I’ve known him for six days. It amazes me, really, but neither of us wanted to wait. That’s the magic of Delacroix, my grandmother’s family, women, or so Grandpa says. Given how the women of this family met their men and married them days later, going as far back as Charlemagne, I’d say he’s right. We decided to do a small ceremony with just our families in Philadelphia at a little Catholic Church, St. Bridget’s.

From there, we will go on our honeymoon to England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and France. All the places we’ve both wanted to go for as long as we can remember. My parents gave us the money for the trip. They said they saved it for my wedding, but since we are just doing a ceremony, the rest of it is mine to do with as I see fit. Everett owns a home in Reading that I will move into when we get back.


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