Chapter 7
Isabella's blue eyes sparkled with mischief in the moonlight as she gently tugged at Vitale's collar, her warm breath brushing against his flushed skin.
"Mr. Luca," her voice was like the finest wine, carrying an intoxicating allure, "were you trying to steal a kiss while I was asleep?"
Vitale rarely looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing unnaturally.
This man who ruled the underworld now seemed like a boy whose secret had been exposed.
But before Vitale could weave a lie, Isabella had already wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him toward her.
"Answer me," she commanded, her red lips barely grazing his, "Were you just now wanting to kiss me? To have me?"
As she spoke, her lips touched his, the soft sensation making him want to groan.
Vitale's self-control crumbled in that moment.
He chased that tempting softness, his voice low and husky: "Yes, I want to kiss you."
From the moment he saw her photo at Antonio's engagement party, he had wanted to do this.
But he hadn't properly caught Isabella, and even their meeting wasn't under the best circumstances, yet he was still holding her.
Isabella laughed softly and pushed him away, her fingers pressing against his approaching chest: "No, if you want to kiss me, you need to learn how to seduce me first."
"Seduce?" Vitale frowned, the word as foreign to him as an alien language, "I've never seduced anyone."
"Then now is the perfect time to learn." Isabella's fingertip traced slowly down the buttons of his shirt, feeling his suddenly tensing muscles, "Let me see if the fearsome Vitale can also become a master of flirtation."
Vitale's large hand moved to her waist, the skin beneath her silk nightgown warm and soft.
However, he quickly discovered that this game of flirtation was far harder to control than he imagined.
His body was much more honest than hers, a certain part already awakening uncontrollably, urgently declaring its presence.
Isabella widened her eyes in feigned surprise, though the smile at the corner of her lips betrayed her cunning: "Oh my God, Vitale, don't tell me you're still a virgin?"
Anyone else saying this to Vitale's face would probably have been thrown into the Mediterranean to feed the fish.
But at this moment, Vitale simply lifted her onto his lap, letting her truly feel his burning desire.
"Yes," he admitted frankly, his blue eyes looking straight at her, "So are you going to mock me?"
Isabella shook her head, her blonde hair tracing a charming arc in the moonlight: "Why would I mock a man who would rather wait and save his first time for someone he truly cares about?"
Vitale cupped her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheek: "I wasn't waiting, Isalan, I was just picky, so picky that all these years, I've only met one woman who made me want to break my principles."
His voice deepened as he continued: "And that's you."
This confession was more heart-stirring than any skillful flirtation.
Before Isabella could respond, his lips had already covered hers.
This kiss was different from any previous contact, carrying a desperate fervor, as if wanting to meld Isabella completely into his body.
Vitale's tongue pried open her teeth, freely exploring the sweet territory.
Isabella gradually softened under his assault, moans involuntarily escaping from her throat.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Isabella panted and asked: "That's impossible, you should have many women around you."
"There are indeed many women who want to get close to me," Vitale's lips traveled along her jawline, "But they're not qualified to touch me."
His waist thrust slightly upward, letting her feel his aroused desire: "And they're not qualified to touch my 'cock'."
Isabella gasped at the unexpected impact, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck to steady herself.
The faint cigar scent on Vitale mixed with his post-shower freshness, creating an intoxicating masculine aura.
"So," her fingertip traced across his shirt collar, her voice carrying a seductive huskiness, "am I qualified to touch you?"
Vitale didn't answer immediately, but his breathing became heavy, his chest heaving violently.
He who strategized in the underworld was now like a prisoner awaiting judgment.
Isabella pressed on relentlessly, her fingers deftly unbuttoning the first button of his shirt: "Vitale, do I have that qualification?"
"God, you're such a temptress," Vitale closed his eyes, feeling the tremor her fingertips brought, "Did God send you to torment me?"
"Perhaps," Isabella's lips pressed against his Adam's apple, "So do you like this torment?"
Vitale finally surrendered, grasping her restless hand and pressing it against his wildly beating heart: "Yes, you're qualified to touch me, your hands, your lips, all of you—I want it all."
"Please touch me, my body, my everything, it's all yours."
However, just as he was about to kiss her lips again, Isabella suddenly stopped all movement.
Vitale's arms instantly tightened, his voice carrying an undeniable dominance: "You don't have the right to regret now, my darling."
"Who said I'm regretting?" Isabella laughed softly, using a skillful move to push him down onto the bed.
She looked down at him, her blonde hair falling like a waterfall, sweeping across his cheek, "I just like to play and chat at the same time. Now, I want to know what your daily life is like."
Vitale frowned in confusion: "What? At a time like this?"
Isabella didn't answer, but instead leaned down, her warm lips pressing against the leopard tattoo on his chest.
Her tongue lightly traced the outline of the pattern, feeling Vitale beneath her shudder violently.
"For example," her lips traveled to his heart, feeling the wild beating there, "why did you choose a leopard for your tattoo?"
Vitale's fingers buried deep into Isabella's blonde hair, his voice husky with desire: "Because the leopard is the most patient predator in the world. They can wait for hours, just to strike at the most perfect moment."
"Like how you waited for me?" Isabella laughed softly, her fingers continuing to explore downward.
Vitale suddenly flipped over, pressing her beneath him, his muscles taut with unleashed power: "No, Isalan, I'm even greedier than a leopard—I don't just want to capture you, I want to treasure you forever."
His kiss fell again, but this time it was heartbreakingly tender.
In the waves of passion, Isabella hazily heard his whisper:
"Stay, not just tonight, but forever."
"Okay, my little gambler, Isalan."