Page 41 of Vicious Behaviors (The Next Vicious Generation #3)

“Yes,” I gasp, gripping his forearm as his fingers slip beneath the edge of my panties, stroking my soaked slit.

“Even from here,” he says, voice husky, “I can smell you.”

“That’s because I want you.”

A shy smile curves his lips, and somehow, it makes him even more devastating.

This man is killing me. And if he doesn’t touch me soon, I might actually lose my mind.

The plea must be all over my face, because suddenly, his thumb is on me, gently circling my clit in smooth, delicate strokes.

I bite my bottom lip to stifle the cry that threatens to escape.

“You really are beautiful,” he mutters, adding the lightest pressure. “Especially now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

I’ve heard practiced lines like that before. However, coming from Marcello? I actually believe him. He’s never said these words to anyone. I can feel it in the way he holds me, touches me. He means every syllable that falls from his gorgeous lips.

“I want to see your face again,” he says, voice low and reverent. “Like I did last night… when you came on my tongue.”

“Oh, my God,” I choke out, barely holding on to sanity.

“Let me see it, bella. Let me see you come on my fingers.”

My cry bursts free, wild and uncontained, as his fingers slide inside me—deep, sure, unrelenting. I clutch his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he works me open, thrusting his digits inside me, testing just how much of him I can sustain.

“Marcello… I… I…” But the words disintegrate on my lips.

My legs begin to shake as his fingers pump harder, faster, dragging me over the edge until I fall apart beneath him, screaming his name as my orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, watching me with wonder as I come down from the heavens, his arms open and ready to catch me in my fall.

My eyelids are heavy, but I force them open, needing to see his face.

Dark ocean eyes watch me, taking in every breath, every tremor and shiver my body makes after such a soul-shaking high.

There’s awe mixed in his hungry gaze, making my insides liquify from being looked at with such worship and unbridled desire.

Marcello surprises me yet again when he shoves his fingers into his mouth, sucking them hard like a depraved man.

“Just as sweet as I remembered.”

My heart stutters as Marcello’s wicked tongue teases me by licking his fingers clean. For a virgin, he sure seems to know how to deliver one hell of an orgasm. So much so that he deserves someone to look after him for a change.

Before he can stop me, I gently push him off me, just far enough to place my foot on his chest. “Take off your shirt,” I order, licking my lips.

His gaze smolders at the command, then presses a tender kiss on the inside of my ankle before placing my foot back on the bed. He then gets off the bed and begins to unbutton his shirt, discarding it to the floor afterward.

“Now your pants.”

Marcello’s eyes darken to an almost pitch-black, stepping out of his pants, leaving his designer boxers the only stitch of clothing on his muscled frame. Beneath them, his thick, hard cock twitches under the fabric, making me swallow dry.

Unable to wait another second, I crawl to the edge of the bed and kneel.

I look up at him and say, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” His eyes burn into me as I reach for the waistband, pulling his boxers down.

His cock springs free, thick and heavy, slapping against his lower stomach—all veins and velvet.

“Keep looking at me,” I whisper as I lean forward and lick the bead of precum from the tip of his crown.

Marcello fists his hands at his sides but says nothing. I’m not sure if he’s even breathing.

I wrap one hand around his base, locking eyes with him, and trail my tongue along the vein that runs up his length before slowly taking him into my mouth.

My eyes flutter halfway closed at the taste of him.

Salt, musk, and something distinctly Marcello.

I moan softly as I work him deeper, relaxing my throat to take as much of him as I can.

My hand grips his firm ass to keep him where I want him, losing myself in the moment, losing myself in him.

He made me come not ten minutes ago, yet here I am again, embarrassingly wet, my arousal dripping down my thigh just from the feel of him in my mouth.

I use my tongue to lavish his cock with praise, sucking him in and out of my mouth so ferociously that the sound of saliva and skin begins to sound like a sweet melody.

I let go of the base of his cock, preferring to use my hand to cradle his sac, while pulling him in as far as I can take, gratified with the feel of his head on the back of my throat.

I can tell Marcello’s close just by the way his thighs tense up, and his breaths short every time his cock touches that one spot at the hollow of my throat.

My pussy clenches on air, eager to swallow his essence when he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me back, pushing me flat onto the mattress.

“My first time won’t be coming in your mouth. It will be here,” he says before slapping my pussy, making me cry out in ecstasy.

He kisses me again, this time hard and deliciously possessive.

My legs wrap around his hips without thought, instinct driving every one of our motions.

I let out a sigh when his hand slips in between my thighs, positioning the crown of his cock at my entrance.

There’s no warning. No hesitation. Only one deep, powerful thrust.

My back arches, as a curse rips from my throat while Marcello fills me completely, exquisitely stretching me around him, until I’m not sure where I end and he begins.

What happens next is neither soft nor gentle. It is chaos—raw, unfiltered. It is ownership. And I give myself to him willingly.

Every thrust he slams into me lifts my hips from the bed, stealing my breath. His grip on my hair tightens, pulling just enough to border on pain, coaxing me to whimper at the intensity of it all.

“Marcello,” I cry. “Talk to me. Tell me I’m beautiful again.”

He groans, each thrust deeper than the last.

“You’re more than beautiful,” he grits out. “You’re all-consuming. Because of you, I can’t think. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything but be obsessed with seeing you again.”

My heart somersaults in my chest as my pussy clenches around his girth. I wrap my arms around his neck, the only thing tethering my soul to the maddening moment.

“More…” I beg with my eyes closed as his body takes complete ownership of mine. “Tell me more.”

“You’re everywhere and nowhere. Sometimes I’m alone and smell your perfume, which drives me insane. Ever since you walked into my life, you’ve consumed me.”

“Marcello,” I cry out, unraveling beneath his words, his body, his everything.

“Fuck, Izzie. Why did you have to be so fucking perfect?” he growls, thrusting deep inside me, my pussy swallowing him to the very hilt.

I feel him everywhere. Inside me and all around me.

It’s so intense that I’m no longer sure who or where I am.

“Even if I tried to deny it, I think I wanted you since the first day my eyes landed on you,” he confesses, driving himself deeper into me.

When he pulls my leg up over his shoulder, his cock hitting that one spot—that one sensitive wall—I wail out his name, my vision blinded by a kaleidoscope of light.

“Fuck,” he says before falling apart inside me with a guttural moan.

We collapse in a tangle of limbs, gasping for breath, letting the outside world struggle to enter our beautiful bubble. It takes a few minutes before I can even breathe right again. A few more to register what just happened.

Every word he said, he meant it. He thinks I’m beautiful and perfect.

He can’t eat or sleep because he can’t stop obsessing over me.

He wanted me long before he admitted it to himself.

I consume him. I guess it’s only fair, since Marcello Romano has consumed my every waking moment long before he ever met me.

Marcello rolls to his side of the bed, bringing me with him. I follow his lead and curl toward him, leaning my head back just a smidge to see his face. There’s no scowl there now. No haunted look in his eyes. Only softness. Peace.

He turns his head to find my gaze, his fingers lightly brushing the wet strands of my hair away from my face, and says, “Thank you.”

Two words. Two simple words that cut straight into my heart and find a permanent home there.

There’s no mask between us now. No walls. No games. Just him. And me. In this room. And if tonight is all we have, then so be it. Right now, I wouldn’t trade the look in his eyes for anything in the world.

“Marcello…” I start, wanting to say something, anything, to explain that what we just did was as new to me as it was to him. That I’ve never allowed myself to share this type of intimacy with anyone before.

However, he silences my words with a gentle shake of his head and pulls me on top of him, his cock already hard again, pressing against me like steel.

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.”