Page 91 of Fatal Fantasy

“That’s my good girl,” I praise, winking as I pop the cork off the first champagne bottle, the bubbles dripping onto my hand, making a complete mess as the alcohol trails down my forearm.

Before I can reach for a napkin, Carter snatches my hand in hers, dragging her tongue along the trail of champagne, and when her baby blues eyes meet mine, there’s a fire raging behind those irises, one that threatens to burn me alive, too.

Playing along, I dip two fingers onto her tongue, inching them further down her throat until tears begin to well in her eyes, and just as I push further, she gags around me, coughing as I slowly brush the saliva along her pretty pink lips.

“Absolute perfection, my pretty little nightmare,” Massi breathes, his hands roaming along her curves, immediately jumping into the moment with us, his fingers dancing along her skin, while her breathing begins to intensify from his slight touches.

Working together, we surround her, Massi expertly removing her shorts from behind, watching as they fall to her ankles, while I hover above her lips, tearing at her tank top until I rip it over her head, revealing her bare chest in quick fashion.

A devilish thought takes over, something that would normally be Massi’s work of art, but I follow its call, reaching for the champagne and splashing it over her chest, the cool liquid shocking her system as she jumps, then settles, from the abrupt sensation.

“Fucking delicious,” I groan, unable to resist the urge to taste the bubbles on her skin, lapping my tongue along her nipple, tipping the bottle of champagne until a puddle begins to pool on her belly.

“I could get drunk off of you in every single lifetime, my delectable little treat,” Massi rasps, slurping until there’s enough to swallow, an evil grin painted on his face as follows my lead, bringing another kink into our repertoire, never finding something the three of us don’t enjoy.

As we lose ourselves in the pleasure we can give her, and what she offers in return, it isn’t lost on me that the three of us took another big step today, solidifying this relationship as an engagement.

It’s surreal to think about where we started, and how we ended up here, but I wouldn’t trade our story for anything, knowing that the universe always has its plans, and for Carter, I’d follow every direction given down to the letter.

After all that we’ve fought for, accomplished together, and the things we lost along the way, it’s finally time to close the chapters on who we were, and open to a brand new page where we can become exactly who we want to be, together.

FIFTY

CARTER

NINE MONTHS LATER

It’s my fucking wedding day.

I’ve been down this road before, partaking in planning the wedding from hell, but this time, everything is different, and I cannot wait to walk down that aisle today.

Tyson, Jasper and I have planned every single detail together, all the way down to the officiant we chose – who was not kidnapped – to perform the ceremony even though it’s a bit unorthodox, considering there’s an additional groom.

The one thing they don’t know about is my dress, and as hard as it was to keep something from them, I’m thrilled to debut the outfit of a lifetime for them, and see their reactions in real time.

Of course, my dress is black, allowing me the fairytale that I never dreamed about, until I met them, come to fruition, and as I shimmy into the silky fabric, smoothing it down and taking a spin for the mirror, I can’t believe how fucking hot I look.

Sticking true to my roots, I chose a dress with no straps, the bust line dipping to enhance my breasts, while the train is filled with tiny, intricate lace flowers, and flows down to a deep slit in the thigh.

I’m never one for theatrics, so when the tailor offered to transform the dress by removing the extra long train, instead opting for a sweep as they call it, I knew that I’d found my dream gown, and admittedly, I’ve been in awe of it since my final fitting last week.

As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, the two engagement rings on my hands shimmer under the light, the black diamonds only accentuating the look, and I allow my thoughts to wander, wondering how I got so damn lucky to be getting married my way – let alone at all.

“Carter? Sweetie, can I come in?” Jasper’s mom knocks at the door of my bridal suite, it being empty, as I opted not to have bridesmaids, or a maid of honor.

Friendship, family, and the ideas of a village are all still new to me, but I do have one true friend, and Ellie is one of our select few guests.

It took a lot for us to come back from what happened at Emory, but I’m honored that she gave me another chance, and we’ve been out to dinner a few times since we all returned to the States.

“It’s open!” I call out, the Mother of the Groom immediately slinking through the doors, her jaw dropping when she sees how I’ve styled my hair into a timeless bridal bun, added light makeup to enhance my tan skin and baby blue eyes, and altered the dress since she last saw it.

“You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. Oh, those boys are going to cry all over themselves, I just know it!” She slips behind me in the mirror, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth, but I don’t dare move, knowing that this is a big day for her, too, considering her only son is getting married.

We’ve grown closer to Jasper’s family since returning to New Jersey a few short months ago, the beach bum life getting really old, really quick, and when Jasper’s mother told us how badly the Masseria Family was struggling to secure a leader, we knew that we were being called back home.

After spending the day lunching in Manhattan, Jasper’s mother and sisters accompanied me to the dress shop, and for the first time in my life, I felt what girlhood is all about.

I’d called ahead to request pieces that were to my liking, and to my surprise, Jasper’s family was all for the black, helping me select the gown that I’d get married in.