Page 93 of Fatal Fantasy

“Carter, do you take Tyson and Jasper as your husbands, until death do you part?” It’s my turn, and luckily for everyone in this room, it’s the easiest question I’ve ever been asked.

“I absolutely do.”

“I now pronounce you husband, wife, and husband. You both may kiss the bride,” he nods, a beaming smile across his face as the words leave his lips, but the three of us, along with our guests, burst into laughter, the saying a little different than the usual line, but equally as powerful as the regular declaration.

We’re fucking married.

Tyson and Jasper keep their kisses family friendly, each of them offering a simultaneous kiss on my cheek, but we discussed this ahead of time, not wanting to give Jasper’s mother, or anyone else, a heart attack.

Later though, I know I’m in for the wedding night reckoning of a lifetime, and while I can’t wait to dance, drink, and celebrate our love with the people closest to us, the honeymoon is front and center in my mind.

“I can’t wait to strip you out of that dress, my pretty little wife,” Jasper teases, his hand clasped into mine on my left, while Tyson occupies my right side, escorting me back down the aisle as a married woman.

“You have no idea what we’ve got in store for you, baby girl,” Tyson chimes in, a certain devilish grin plastered on his face that I rarely ever see, the look on his face sending shots of electricity from my head, down to my toes.

It’s official, this is how the rest of my life is going to go, showered with love by the two men who would make hell rain down on earth in order to protect me, and after the emotionally draining day we all shared, my body is more than ready to lean into Tyson’s sadistic fantasies as my own personal drug of choice.

Every time his dark side makes an appearance, I take a euphoric trip to the edge of oblivion, and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of free falling off the tallest cliffs with my husbands.

FIFTY-ONE

JASPER

THREE YEARS LATER

Leaning back in my desk chair, I let my eyes fall shut, closing my fist tighter around the mound of hair tangled in my hand, forcing her to take my cock deeper down her throat, not letting up until she gags.

“Your wife isn’t going to be happy about this,” she teases, licking the underside of me at a feverishly slow place, knowing exactly how to drive me wild.

“One more word out of you … I’ll shove this cock so far down your throat and fuck it like that worthless pussy you keep throwing at me,” I growl, pushing her face back down, avoiding eye contact as I chase an easy release, my balls clenching as she swallows around me, coughing and sputtering.

It’s still early the morning, the employees shuffling in as the clock ticks toward the start of the work day, but the sins I’m committing are materializing in the air, it almost stuffy in this room as I chase my release, pushing every thought of deadly lust front and center, just to get this over with.

“Right fucking there, hold it.” I fist the roots of her hair, keeping her in place as I thrust until my load shoots down her throat, not allowing her to move until I feel her swallow every single drop.

“You’re getting so much better at this,” she purrs like a glorious sex-kitten, those baby blue eyes meeting mine as she climbs out from under my desk, landing her ass squarely in my lap.

“I don’t like pretending I’m cheating on you, Carter,” I argue, but she only pouts her lower lip, rolling her eyes as she snuggles into my chest, my heart thrashing as I come down from one hell of an orgasm.

“Oh come on, Mr. Smith, you love my games,” she counters, a small smirk erupting across her face, and I break, knowing that she’s right.

“Your turn, Mrs. Smith. Get that pretty ass in the chair.” I flip her over, dropping to my knees in an instant, her devilish giggles filling the otherwise silent office that we share, leaving us to play our filthy games while the other employees are none the wiser in their minuscule cubicles.

“The boss could walk in at any second,” she whines, wiggling in the chair as I plunge three fingers into her dripping pussy, feeling the moment the muscles clench, threatening to sever my digits at the knuckles.

“He can either watch, or join in. You like it when I offer you up to the boss, don’t you?” I slap her clit twice, eliciting a scream from her chest that echoes around the room, bouncing off the walls in delicious harmony.

“Oh god, yes!” She cries, the orgasm slamming into her as she soaks the leather seat, her feet pushing off the mahogany, causing the wheels to roll, but I catch her just before she slips away.

“You did so good, my little temptress of death,” I breathe in her ear, scooping her into my arms just as the fingerprint reader beeps, and the door opens.

“Jesus Christ, you demonic fucks. It’s nine a.m.,” Tyson grunts, brushing past us to his own desk, this office big enough for us all to have our own space.

Once we high-tailed it off the island we crash-landed on after the ambush of Carter’s father, we bounced around a few different places, but nothing felt quite like home until we rediscovered the beauty of New Jersey.

The three of us have been on the East Coast for a few years now, with Tyson running an international tech business, and Carter and I picking up the decimated pieces of the Masseria Family, making it whole again.

Nothing we tried to do with our lives felt right, like we were alternate versions of ourselves, waiting for the true villains that we are deep in our souls to return to the light.