Page 121 of Vicious Behaviors
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 forhim. 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.”
