Page 90 of Vicious Behaviors
I half expected her to pull away from me after learning what I’ve done, yet she is pulling me closer.
“Izzie,” I breathe out her name, only for her to place her fingers on my lips.
“Would you ever hurt me?”
“Iwould never hurt you,” I hear myself say, my voice raw and desperate for her touch.
“Wouldhe?”
Her question should send me running for the hills. How does she know when some of my closest family members have turned a blind eye to it?
“Wouldhehurt me, Marcello?” she repeats, with resolve.
“Yes,” I confess, my eyes lowering from her intense gaze.
However, Izzie will have none of it. She lifts my chin with one finger, staring deep into my eyes, as if they held the answer to all her questions, doubts, and fears.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispers softly, shifting her leg to straddle me.
Once fully seated on top of me, she leans down to my lips and kisses me so softly, my heart weeps at her tenderness. I then feel her fingers pull down my zipper, just as her tongue invades my mouth. I groan at her soft touch, as she pulls my hard cock out of its confinement, ready to return to her warmth. I hiss out when she wraps her hand around my girth and gives it two tortuous strokes before centering it to her soaked core.
“Fuck,bella,” I growl, before deepening our kiss.
My fingers dig into the softness of Izzie’s flesh, guiding her hips up and then thrusting deep inside her. She whimpers, her nails digging into my skin as she arches back, her long hair cascading over her shoulders like a beautiful silk curtain.
I become mesmerized when she starts swaying her hips to the rhythm of my heartbeat. We move slow. No rush. No games. Just skin against skin, breath tangled with breath, a rhythm that says we’re still here. Even after all the ugliness we endured, that we have faced, there is still something left in this world worthy of holding onto.
Izzie’s hips roll against me, slow and sure, my hands gripping her waist, her thighs, her spine. I clutch her like a man who’s seen hell and needs her pure heart to remind him who he is beneath the monster. When she finally lets go, trembling against me, I follow suit, burying my face into the crook of herneck, breathing her in as if she were the only oxygen left in the world. Once her soul has returned to her body, she curls into my chest, arms wrapped tightly around me.
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” she whispers after a little while.
“Neither did I,” I answer honestly, pressing a kiss to her hair.
“Will you be here in the morning?”
“Yes.”
That’s all Izzie needs to hear for her body to instantly relax, her breath slowing until sleep fully takes her under. Still, just as her soft breathing starts lulling me to sleep, a cold shiver runs through my bones. I shut my eyes and tighten my grip around her, praying to whatever God is still listening to keep the devil away from her. To keep her safe. Since I’m not sure I can.
Chapter 20
Isobel
Some truths are easier to tell when they’re wrapped in lies. Or at least that’s what I tell myself the next time I report to Haynes.
“You didn’t go to work this weekend. Why?” Haynes asks before I’ve even shut his car door behind me. “Were you ill?”
“Yes,” I say, lying through my teeth. “In fact, I didn’t leave my bed all weekend because of it.”
“And you couldn’t be bothered to pick up your phone to warn me?” he huffs out, clearly pissed. “Because of you, we lost track of Romano for over forty-eight hours. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Lost track?” I echo, not entirely understanding what he means by that. And then an ill-gotten realization hits me. “How did you know I wasn’t at work this weekend? Are you… following Marcello or me?”
Haynes barks out an arctic laugh. “Did you honestly believe the FBI would build a task force to take down the largest crime family in Chicago with just two people? I’ve got eyes and ears all over this city. Nothing gets past me.”
I don’t let my face show what that revelation does to me. Not only is this bastard always keeping things from me, but I should have realized before how he’s always three steps ahead of the game, even when it’s one I didn’t agree to participate in. This is unlike any task force I’ve ever worked for. Information should flow fluidly between all its members, and yet Haynes has decided the only person who should be in the know is him.
“How unfortunate then,” I say coolly, “that your expert team lost all traces of Marcello. If you’d waited for my report, I could’ve told you where he was last weekend.”
