Page 110 of Vicious Behaviors
If only that were true.
“I’m fine, Marcello. Just have an errand to run after my training sessions tonight that I’m not looking forward to, that’s all,” I explain, grateful for not having to entirely lie to him.
Tonight, I have to meet Haynes and update him on my investigation. And the reason I’m not looking forward to it is because I have nothing to report. To be fair, Haynes wasn’t exactly thrilled that the one lead I got incriminated Father Torres in Father McDonagh’s disappearance, not Marcello. Haynes has been dragging his feet in getting me any intel on the priest, which only delays the progress of my case.
I understand his reluctance, though. If Father Torres is truly responsible for Father McDonagh’s disappearance, then any case the FBI had against the Outfit collapses, leaving us no closer to dismantling the criminal organization than when we first started.
Life really works in mysterious ways. Not a few months ago, I was salivating to get any proof on Marcello to take him and his family down. Now here I am, praying that Father Torres really is culpable in the other priest’s death just so I don’t have to cuff Marcello and destroy his family.
“An errand, huh?” Marcello grins, knowing full well what I’ll be up to in a few hours. “Then how about I take your mind off it for a while?” He winks before grabbing my hand. I don’t even have time to protest when he leads me into Carmine’s empty office. He then locks us inside and pulls the shades down, giving us the illusion of privacy.
“What are you up to?” I ask curiously.
“What I’m always up to, just trying to make you feel good,” he cracks a crooked smile before picking me up and placing my ass on the desk.
“Marcello,” I start, but it’s too late. He’s already on his haunches, spreading my thighs wide.
“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says before ripping my yoga pants in the middle. I gasp, incredulous at his action, but all my protests die on the tip of my tongue when he swipes my panties to the side.
“Don’t you dare,” I reprimand. “I need a shower. I’ve been working out for the past hour.”
“Does it look like I care?”
No, it doesn’t. It never does. Marcello doesn’t care how he takes me, just as long as he can. And for the life of me, I can’t seem to be able to stop him. My body is already clenching with the idea that it will soon feel his tongue.
Having given up the fight and needing him to erase all my concerns, I run my fingers through his hair, stare him in the eye, and ask, “Well, what are you waiting for?”
Marcello’s lips curl at the side, and I almost combust with his smoldering look. Seeing this man on his knees, licking his lips, just dying to get a taste of me, is too much for any red-blooded woman to bear. All too soon, I feel the flat of his tongue lap at my slit, and I let out a moan, grabbing the edge of the desk and leaning my head back. It’s only when he slaps my pussy that my head flings forward.
“Eyes on me,” he growls before going back to his favorite meal.
If I weren’t so turned on, I’d praise him for finally finding his footing in the bedroom. Or in this case, his grandfather’s office. The shy man who admitted not so long ago that he’d never had sex before has mastered the art of dirty talk to a T. He’s leaned into his dominant nature, while making sure that I’m always kept safe in his arms and that all my needs are met before his.
I’ve never thought I’d enjoy being submissive to any man. Still, when Marcello takes the lead, I find myself effortlessly assuming the role and enjoying every damn minute of it.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as Marcelo continues to stare up at my eyes, while flicking my clit with his tongue, then sucking it into his mouth. On and on this tortuous dance goes. When my breathing starts to come out in spurts, he runs his digits over my soaked pussy, before thrusting them deep inside me, hooking them just right to ensure he hits that one sensitive wall.
I bite into my lip to keep myself from crying out as he works my pussy with his fingers. He does it in such a way that the air in the small room becomes intoxicating with the scent of my desire.
“What do you want,bella?I can either make you come like this or bend you over the desk and fuck you senseless until you see God.”
“Fuck me,” I pant, my vision beginning to blur at the obscenities coming out of his mouth.
“Second choice it is then.” He smirks, rising to his feet. He grabs my throat and presses an arduous kiss on my lips, before flipping me around and bending me over the desk.
I barely have time to breathe when his cock drives deep into my pussy, the desk shaking beneath me with the sheer force of it all.
“Always so ready for me,” he purrs while tugging at my hair, forcing me to keep my head up in a way that he can see every expression flickering across my face. “Tell me,bella,do you always get this wet?” I shake my head since words fail me right now with the way he’s fucking me from behind. “Do you only get this wet for me?” he rasps huskily.
Though his tone suggests that his question is merely for foreplay purposes, I can hear the vulnerability behind his words.
I try to clear my head to answer, though it’s hard with the way every thrust gets me closer and closer to the precipice.
“Only you, Marcello. Only with you,” I manage to moan out.
“Fuck,” he curses, snaking his head to my throat and pulling me against his chest. “Say that again,bella.Tell me that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this? The only one who you let fuck like this.”
My nipples harden at his plea as my pussy clenches around his girth, making him hiss out in pleasure.
