Chapter 100
Vitale shook his head, "No, Isabella, I swear, those kinds of sex parties are just physical, no love involved. What's the point of going? It's just a bunch of strangers using their bodies to warm each other up, filling the emptiness with cheap thrills."
"I don't like that feeling. Never have."
Vitale leaned in, his lips almost brushing Isabella's ear, his warm breath grazing her skin, "I like making love with feelings. Like us, knowing each other's names, knowing that when you melt under me, it's not because of drugs or alcohol, but because of me."
His hand started wandering again.
It slid from her waist to her thigh, searching for that warm, wet vagina.
Isabella gasped and grabbed his hand. "It hurts, Vitale, don't touch. You promised me just now you wouldn't go too far."
Vitale stopped, his expression turning a bit pitiful. "Alright, baby."
"But do you know how much you tempt me? I can't control myself. My body has a mind of its own."
Vitale pulled back a little, letting the dim bedside light shine on his lower half.
Isabella's face instantly turned red.
That bulge.
Hard, huge, pointing straight at the ceiling.
"You can take a look," Vitale said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement and a lot more desire. "It's still rock hard. It hasn't gone down at all."
He let out a low groan. "This is torture, Isabella. I won't be able to sleep like this. It's going to kill me."
"Can you not say such embarrassing things!" Isabella covered her face, but peeked through her fingers.
God, Vitale was right.
That shape, that size—she knew it too well. She knew how it felt inside her, that mix of pain and intense pleasure it brought.
Vitale chuckled, his laugh deep, sexy, and full of temptation.
He sat up, his fully erect cock exposed to the air, the tip already leaking precum, provocatively glistening under the light.
"Look," Vitale's voice was husky as his fingers lightly gripped his shaft, sliding up and down once. "It's really hard. It remembers you, Isabella. Remembers your warmth inside, remembers how you tighten around it, remembers how you wrap and suck it when you climax..."
Isabella felt a hot rush in her lower belly.
She knew she couldn't stay in Vitale's arms any longer.
One more second, and her self-control would completely crumble. She'd give in like countless times before, spreading her legs for him, letting him fill her with that burning hot shaft, making her scream, making her cry, making her forget everything.
Isabella sat up abruptly, scrambling off the bed in a panic, her movements clumsy like a startled little animal.
In her rush, she knocked over her suitcase.
The case fell to the floor, spilling its contents, and out dropped a pink vibrator.
The air froze.
Isabella stood still, eyes wide, staring at the pink sex toy on the carpet, her mind blank.
When did she pack this in her suitcase?
She couldn't remember! Maybe she'd thrown it in by accident while packing, or maybe...
God, she didn't know!
Isabella wanted to bend down, pick it up, hide it, and pretend nothing happened.
But Vitale was faster. Before she could, he had already picked up the vibrator.
He held it in his hand, weighing it, then found the switch and flicked it on.
A low buzzing sound filled the quiet bedroom, carrying a suggestive rhythm.
Vitale looked at Isabella with a wicked smirk. "My girl."
"You actually brought this. Have you been playing with it behind my back?"
Isabella's face burned red. "This is just a little thing for relaxing muscles!"
"I use it when my shoulders are sore! It's not what you think!"
Vitale raised an eyebrow, holding the vibrating toy up to the light, inspecting it closely. "You know, this isn't a muscle relaxer, right? At least, not for shoulder muscles."
Isabella felt all the blood rush to her face.
She jumped up, finally snatching the toy from Vitale's hand, and shoved it under her pillow, as if that could make the embarrassing evidence disappear.
"Vitale, you're such a pervert!" she accused, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her mix of shame and excitement.
Vitale laughed, his voice cheerful and relaxed.
He walked back to the bed and sat down, hands propped behind him, leaning back to show off his perfect chest and abs, and that still-erect cock.
"I like everything about you, Isabella."
"Including your desires, your secrets, and the little toy you secretly brought. So don't be shy. Really."
"Since I've never played with one of these, why don't you teach me how to use it?"
"No way!" Isabella shot back immediately. "Absolutely not! That's my personal stuff!"
Vitale's expression turned disappointed. "Fine."
"Then I'll just play with my own 'toy' instead."
Then he did something that left Isabella stunned.
Vitale, the most feared mafia boss of Eldoria, started touching himself.
One hand slid over his chest, pinching a nipple.
That move made Isabella's breath catch.
The other hand moved downward, gripping his still-hard cock, starting to stroke it slowly, rhythmically.
Vitale's eyes stayed locked on Isabella, his blue gaze filled with raw invitation and temptation.
He let out a groan, low and sexy. "It feels good, but not as good as your hand, not as good as your mouth, not as good as your..."
He sped up the motion of his hand, head tilting back, Adam's apple bobbing, chest heaving.
Isabella sucked in a sharp breath.
Her mouth felt dry.
A familiar heat surged deep inside her, spreading down the inside of her thighs.
She wasn't wearing underwear, and she could clearly feel that wetness, that aching emptiness.
Vitale was being too much.
He was seducing her.
With his perfect body, with his sexy moans.
Isabella rushed into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on her face.
The icy water stung her skin, but it did nothing to help.
Her body was on fire, that desire burning like a wildfire, impossible to put out.
And outside the door, Vitale's moans continued, growing louder, more real.
"Isabella."
"I need you. It needs you."
Isabella couldn't ignore it.
Her rationality was crumbling, her desire screaming.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
Her face was flushed, her blue eyes hazy with lust, her lips slightly parted, breathing fast.
Then Isabella remembered that party.
Remembered the moans in that room.
Remembered the tearing feeling of thinking Vitale was in there.
Maybe deep down, Vitale was still like his father, Rhett.
Maybe he liked that kind of performance, that kind of seduction, that feeling of controlling others with his body.
But that thought was quickly drowned by desire.
Because when Isabella stepped out of the bathroom, the sight before her wiped out any ability to think.
Vitale was leaning against the headboard, legs spread, one hand still gripping his cock, but moving slower now, more like he was showing off than pleasuring himself.
Sweat glistened on his skin, making his body look like an oiled statue, both sacred and sinful.
He beckoned to Isabella, the curl of his fingers like a predator summoning prey.
"Come here, Isabella."
"I need you, and you need me. We both know it."
Isabella's feet moved on their own, step by step, toward the bed.
When she reached the edge, Vitale reached out and yanked her into his arms.
A fierce kiss.
Not the gentle, reassuring kind from before, but a raw, possessive kiss full of primal desire.
Vitale's tongue forced its way past her teeth, diving in deep, as if he wanted to devour her.
Isabella responded, her arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through his red hair, pulling him closer.
Her hand explored downward, gripping his hard, burning cock, feeling it pulse in her hand, feeling the low growl he made at her touch.
Vitale's hand found its target, too.
He lifted her nightgown, and without any teasing, his fingers went straight between her legs, finding that wet pussy, sliding inside, and starting to thrust.
Isabella moaned into his kiss, her body arching from the sensation of his fingers.
They kissed fiercely, hands roaming each other's bodies like two hungry beasts, trying to confirm each other's existence in the most primal way, confirming this dangerous but real desire.
Just then, a knock on the door sounded.
In this lust-filled room, it was like a thunderclap.
They both froze.
"Ms. Martinez?" Henley's voice came from outside. "Are you asleep? Did Mr. Luca come back okay? I need to check. We have plans for tomorrow morning."
Isabella's heart raced.
Vitale's fingers were still inside her pussy, his cock in her hand, their lips still pressed together.
She needed to respond.
Needed to get Henley to leave.
Needed to not reveal what was happening right now.
But Vitale didn't give Isabella a chance.
He ended the kiss, but his fingers sped up their thrusting, while his other hand grabbed hers, guiding it to stroke his cock up and down.
Isabella tried to suppress her moans, but the sound still escaped her throat.
Outside the door, Henley went silent.
A few seconds later, he spoke again, his voice tinged with awkwardness and understanding. "I see. Well, good night, Ms. Martinez. Good night, Mr. Luca."
His footsteps quickly faded away.
Isabella let out a breath of relief, but Vitale didn't give her a moment to recover.
He pushed her down onto the bed, his body covering hers, knees spreading her legs apart, the hard, burning tip of his cock pressing against her wet entrance.
Just then, Vitale's phone rang.
It vibrated on the nightstand, the screen lighting up.
It was a message from Henley.
Vitale reached over, grabbed the phone, glanced at the screen, and smirked.
An annoyed, irritated kind of smirk.
Isabella caught a glimpse of the message:
Henley: [Mr. Luca, you'd better hold back tonight. We need to leave on time tomorrow to return to Thalassia. The flight is at 8 a.m., it's a 40-minute drive from the hotel to the airport, security takes time, and there might be last-minute things to confirm with Blake. So please, keep it moderate.]
Vitale stared at the screen, a dangerous glint flashing in his blue eyes.
He typed a reply with one hand.
The other hand stayed between Isabella's legs, fingers lightly pressing her clit, making her tremble.
His reply was just one word:
Vitale: [Scram.]