Page 59 of Vicious Behaviors (The Next Vicious Generation #3)

Isobel

I bite down hard on Marcello’s belt, the taste of Italian leather sharp on my tongue as he pounds into me from behind like a man possessed.

Tonight has been nothing but a blur.

My time here has been a cross between engaging in vapid conversations with capos and the city’s one-percenters, to Marcello fucking me senseless in every hidden corner of this mansion.

We spent maybe thirty minutes mingling with the party guests before he’d had enough, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me into the nearest empty room he could find.

I’ve practically toured this entire place on my back or bouncing on his cock.

Not that I’m complaining. It actually reminds me of that first weekend in my apartment, when Marcello couldn’t go an hour without being inside me again.

Maybe it’s the flowing flutes of champagne that he’s indulged in tonight, or perhaps he just needs an escape from having to mingle with people that mean nothing to him.

Though I sense his erratic, viciously delicious behavior has more to do with nerves caused by me being in his domain.

Knowing what he knows about me, I’m sure it isn’t easy for him to deceive his family like this.

If anyone ever discovered who I really am—who I work for—it wouldn’t just be a death sentence for me. It would be one for him, too. Heir or not, the Outfit would demand blood for such a betrayal.

Still… here I am.

Marcello risked everything tonight just so he could introduce me to the people who are important to him. That alone makes me ache for him all the more.

Pressed up against a wall, I gasp for breath while my body sings under his dominance. My vision swims when he drives so deep inside of me that I forget where I even am, his words spilling ragged into my ear, only increasing my need for him.

“You feel so good, bella. I can’t get enough of you. I’ll never get enough of you.”

My teeth sink into the belt, muffling the sounds that escape me, giving me something to tether myself to while he destroys me, ruins me in the most glorious of ways.

My knees are shot, and my legs keep trembling after so many shattering orgasms in such a short period.

Yet, I still hold on for as long as possible, matching his rhythm to a T.

Any other man would’ve wilted by now. Add a heavy amount of alcohol into the mix, and they’d be out for the count. But not Marcello. And it isn’t youth keeping him hard… keeping him insatiable, either. It’s me. Wanting me. Needing me. Craving me to the point of obsession.

My Marcello.

Knowing I’m this man’s only weakness pushes me over the edge. My pussy clenches around him as stars burst across my vision. And the second I break apart, he follows, as though he’s been waiting for me to fall before surrendering himself.

Boneless, I barely register when he scoops me into his arms, carrying me to a brown leather sofa. He settles with me in his lap, and though my eyelids feel weighted with exhaustion, I force them open just to catch the shy smile curving his lips.

“I think I’ve finally tired you out,” he says softly, tugging his belt from my teeth.

“Oh, wouldn’t be so certain of that,” I counter, though my sated smile and heavy eyelids say the opposite.

Marcello’s ocean gaze lingers on my eyes before gently pressing a sweet kiss to my lips. When he pulls away, I lay my head on his shoulder while he fixes my dress and brushes my hair, holding me tenderly in his loving arms.

That’s the other thing about Marcello. He can turn from depraved to achingly sweet in the blink of an eye. The tenderness afterward—the way he holds me, and the way his chest feels like the safest place in the world—makes me melt into him.

Funny how a few months can change everything you thought you knew about a person. How it can change your entire perspective about them.

I used to believe the Romanos were nothing but pure poison, the rot that ruled Chicago’s streets. But now? Now I see them differently. I see them for who they truly are—a family. They love hard and support each other, while protecting their own at any cost.

Is the way they make their millions unsavory? Absolutely. But what family doesn’t have their flaws?

Maybe I’m sugarcoating it. Perhaps I’m just undermining what they do for a living, because I can’t bear to think of a world where Marcello is locked away in some cell. The thought alone is too unbearable to imagine, much less put cuffs on him myself.

“Hey?” he coos, sensing the war in my head. “Where did you go just now?”

I drag my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, meeting his gaze. “Nowhere I want to be.”

His light blue eyes soften as he presses a kiss to my temple. “Good. Because you belong right here. With me.”

My heart stumbles at the weight of his words, at how deeply he means them, so I steer us away before I blurt out something that could ruin the moment.

“How drunk are you right now?”

“Not too drunk to fuck your imprint into this couch,” he teases, flashing that wicked smile of his.

“I think we’re good,” I smirk. “If I weren’t on the pill, I’d be pregnant right now.”

His gaze darkens, smoldering, as if I’ve just cracked open one of his hidden fantasies.

“Oh, my God,” I laugh. “Was that what you were trying to do? Knock me up?”

“No,” he says quickly, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrays him. “But… it was kind of fun imagining that’s what I was doing.”

I can’t help but laugh. Sometimes this man is too damn cute for his own good.

“So that’s what was going through your head, huh?” I rake my fingers through his hair. “Next time, tell a girl what you’re thinking. If you want us to role-play, I’m more than happy to play along.”

Marcello groans, low and hungry, his hardening cock pressing against my ass at the thought.

“I’ll remember you said that.”

I bite my lip, watching those ocean eyes darken, a storm brewing there.

Marcello is still learning what he likes in the bedroom, and from what I can tell, nothing is off the table for him.

As long as I’m into it, he throws himself in completely.

And right now, he looks like he’s considering testing every limit.

“I think we should get back to the party,” I murmur, before he makes good use of his second wind. “People will wonder where we are.”

“Let them wonder. I’m good right here.”

“I can see that,” I coo, wiggling my ass against him. “But let’s put a pin on that for later.”

He groans. “I’m starting to really hate this ‘pin’ analogy of ours.”

I smile, tugging lightly at the ends of his hair as I whisper into his ear, “I need the good boyfriend right now. The bad one will just have to wait until we get home.”

“Home.” He closes his eyes for a spell as if to better savor the word. “I like it when you call our place home.”

“I like saying it too,” the reckless words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“You really shouldn’t have said that, bella, ” he growls, pressing me flat against the couch and hovering over me. “There’s no way we’re going back to the party now.”

I giggle at his lack of restraint, only for my laughter to swiftly die out under his ardent kiss.

My arms wind around his neck, the party already a distant thought, when a sharp creak of a door opening suddenly cuts through the moment. “Get the fuck out!” Marcello shouts, pissed that someone dared interrupt us.

“Sorry. Sorry,” we hear an embarrassed Annamaria utter before closing the door behind her.

“Fuck,” Marcello grunts, jumping off me and fixing his pants before running after his sister.

I do a quick check on myself, too, before hurrying after him. When I leave the room, I find the siblings in the hallway, speaking to each other in low voices.

“You really should have locked the door,” Anna says softly, her face red from finding us in such an awkward position.

“I thought I did. I must have forg… doesn’t matter. Sorry I barked at you,” Marcello apologizes.

“It’s okay. I understand.” Annmaria’s gaze falls to the floor.

“No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Especially on your birthday,” he says, his voice softening in an attempt to console his sister. “Where have you been anyway? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“It’s a big party, in an even bigger house. I’m sure you just didn’t see her,” I cut in quickly. Anna looks up, her lips pulling into a quiet, grateful smile.

Marcello, however, doesn’t seem to be buying what I’m selling. Wanting to pivot out of the awkward situation we find ourselves in, I open my clutch and hand Anna her birthday present. “But now that we have found you, here. Marcello went to great lengths to get these for you.”

“What’s this?” she asks before opening the envelope.

“It’s your birthday present, angel. I hope you like it.”

When Anna opens the envelope and sees four Taylor Swift tickets, plus backstage passes, she jumps in elation.

“Marcello! You didn’t?!” She squeals in excitement before jumping into his arms. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, hugging her tightly, her excitement all the thanks he could ever need. “I got four, so you can invite your friends to go with you.”

His last remark draws a sorrowful curve on her lips.

“And by friends, your brother means me, Frankie, and Stella,” I hurry to turn her frown upside down.

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” she exhales, relieved to know she’ll see her idol together with her loved ones. She pulls away from the hug and presses a kiss to her brother’s cheek. “Thank you, Mar. I couldn’t ask for a better brother.”

“You’re welcome, angel. It was either that or a tour to a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory. This sounded more fun.” He shrugs sheepishly.

“I’d be happy with either,” she smiles widely.

I’m not sure how a trip to an ice cream factory could ever compare to concert tickets, but I can tell she’s being sincere.

“How about we return to your party so you can open up some more gifts?” Marcello encourages, wanting to keep that broad smile on his sister’s face.