Page 84 of Vicious Behaviors

He leans forward, tugging off my oversized t-shirt without breaking eye contact, and begins to trace soft kisses along my shoulders. Each one slow, reverent, and full of things neither of us can say.

When his lips hover a mere inch from mine, his stare looking deep into my soul, he sends electric ripples through every nerve ending in my body, awakening a deep, unknown need in me with his next words. “Again.”

It’s been two days. Two glorious days and nights with neither of us wanting to leave my apartment. Hell, we haven’t even left my bed. Not even when the wooden bedframe broke mid fuck. Marcello didn’t stop for even a second until he heard me cry out his name at the top of my lungs. He’s either making up for lost time or genuinely enjoying my company. I like to think it’s thelatter. Though to be honest, I don’t have a problem with it being the first, either.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of this pussy,” Marcello growls, slapping my ass as he thrusts deep inside me.

It didn’t take him long to find his voice in the bedroom. He figured out quickly that I get off on the way he talks while he’s fucking me within an inch of my life and he’s made excellent use of that discovery.

We’ve practically run through the entire Kama Sutra in one weekend, and somehow, he still manages to surprise me. He turns from gentle lover to man possessed in seconds.

Honestly, I don’t even know which version of him I like better because the end result is always the same. Fireworks. Every damn time.

He’s got a fistful of my hair as he fucks me from behind, yanking me back with just enough force to make me moan. Each time he tugs, my pussy clenches around him. That, and the way he slaps my ass as if he’d love nothing more than to leave a perfect imprint of his hand on each cheek as a memento for the time we’ve spent together.

“I wish you could see yourself like this,” he grits out. “On all fours, soaking my cock and the sheets. Begging me to own you.”

I let out a strangled cry, because damn, he’s getting too good at this. Not good… great. Fucking phenomenal even. Better than anyone I’ve ever slept with, to be honest. And that right there lies the problem. Though I try not to wallow on that piece of truth until I absolutely have to.

Marcello releases my hair from his grip and pulls me upright, sensing my mind flickered elsewhere for a split second. He presses my back against his chest as he snakes a hand around to my clit while still pounding into me from behind.

“Does that feel good,bella?”

“Yes,” I cry out, breathless, my thighs trembling as his relentless fingers draw circles on my sensitive nub.

“I could fuck you like this all day.” I don’t remind him that he has. We’ve barely come up for air since he broke into my home Friday night.

Marcello’s hand moves from my waist to my breast, squeezing firmly, almost possessively. His fingers stay on my clit, teasing it, while his cock dominates every inch of me. The overstimulation is too much, and when he sinks his teeth into my shoulder, I break apart, coming harder than I ever have in my life.

“Fuck. Just like that,bella,” he growls, slamming into me with unrelenting rhythm.

As another orgasm tears through me and my body begins to shake violently, Marcello wraps his arm around me, tilting my head to the side so he can kiss me as this second orgasm takes me into new, unexplored heights. He only comes when I’ve hit its highest peak, both of us falling in tandem, gently floating back to earth.

I glance over my shoulder, my vision still hazy, and find him smiling at me.

“Was that a two-in-one?” he asks, almost shy.

“I don’t know what the hell that was.” I giggle, too blissed out for words.

He brushes my hair off my shoulders and begins to kiss the bite mark he left.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks gently, that tenderness turning my insides into liquified goo.

“Never.”

Marcello looks at me as if I were the catalyst for him to discover a gift he didn’t know he had. His lashes flutter, his look of quiet gratitude filling my chest with something warm and dangerous. I lean in, thankful for him to meet me halfway, hiskiss as sweet and careful as the way he’s holding me now. But all too soon do I feel his cock, already hardening again inside me, ready for a second round. Or is it twenty? I’ve lost count.

“Don’t get any ideas, mister. You promised me a bath, remember?”

“I also promised you food. Is it my fault you’re the only thing I want to sink my teeth into?” he laughs, pressing yet another sweet kiss on my lips.

God, these butterflies are going to ruin me. They take flight in my chest every time he says something like that—so unpracticed, so honest.

A part of me almost wishes the other Marcello would show up. The cold one. The dangerous one. The one I’m supposed to lock up.

“Hey,” he says, tilting my chin. “Where did you go?”

He settles me onto my back and hovers above me, concern flickering in his gaze.