Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ZOE
M y heart aches for Virgilio and the life he's had to endure. Words escape me as I try to convey my emotions. All I can do is show him. So, I kiss him, pouring every ounce of my gratitude, my love, and my sorrow into that kiss.
His lips meet mine, and our kiss becomes a powerful exchange of emotions too intricate and convoluted for words. I feel his strong arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. With our mouths still joined, he starts walking, carrying me upstairs to his bedroom.
I don't want this moment to end—I need it to continue forever.
His hands find my hips, guiding me as we continue to kiss. I can feel the heat in his touch, and my entire body ignites in response. My fingers grab on to his hair him, never wanting to let go.
My breaths come in sharp gasps as he lays me down on the bed. He hovers over me, his eyes dark with desire. With a gentleness that contrasts the urgency of our kisses, he brushes my hair away from my face. His thumb grazes my cheek, and I shiver at his touch.
I feel delicate and cherished under his attentive gaze. It's as if he's memorizing every inch of my face.
Pulling back slightly, he traces my lower lip with his thumb. I sigh, my body arching towards him.
"I want to see you," I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest. Virgilio's eyes widen at my request.
I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it aside. Virgilio watches my every move, his eyes burning with intensity.
He pulls away from me and slowly begins to undress, revealing his muscular body inch by inch. My breath catches as I take in the sight of him and the scars marring his skin. My fingers trace the contours of his shoulders, feeling the raised lines of old wounds. It hurts to see the marks on his body, but I also see the strength and courage they represent.
Virgilio's hands tremble slightly as he reaches up to remove his colored contact lenses. I hold my breath, waiting to see his true eyes—the eyes I remember from our youth. As the lenses come off, his eyes shine with a vibrant green hue, vibrant and alive.
I gasp softly, unable to look away. "You're so beautiful," I whisper, reaching up to touch his face. He closes his eyes at my touch, his expression softening.
Leaning forward, I place a gentle kiss on his eyelid, then another on the scar that bisects his eyebrow. My lips trail down his cheek, kissing each scar with reverence. I want to erase the pain etched into his skin, to replace those wounds with tenderness.
Virgilio shivers beneath my gentle touch, his breath coming in sharp rasps. My kisses move downward, exploring the terrain of his body, mapping the contours of his torso with my mouth. My tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of his skin. I want to brand him as mine, to leave my mark on him just as he has left his mark on me.
His hands thread through my hair, guiding me, urging me on. I kiss the hollow of his throat, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there. Virgilio groans, his head falling back.
My mouth finds his, and our kiss deepens. It's a hungry, desperate kiss, fueled by years of longing and separation. I pour all my pent-up desire into that kiss, my hands roving over his body possessively.
I want to make him feel loved. I want to chase away the ghosts of his past and fill him with light and life. With each kiss, I'm saying all the things I couldn't say before. I love you. I'm here.
My kisses travel down his neck, tasting the salt of his skin. His breaths come in ragged gasps, each one like a whisper of desire. I let my lips wander lower, tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling every ripple and scar under my tongue. Virgilio's fingers thread through my hair, gently guiding me, encouraging me to continue.
I move lower, placing feather-light kisses on his abdomen. Each touch sends a shiver through his body. My hands roam over his hips, savoring the warmth of his skin. I pause for a moment, looking up at him. His eyes are dark with need, and it fuels my own desire.
My mouth moves to the waistband of his pants. With deliberate slowness, I unbutton them and pull them down, revealing the hard length of him. My breath hitches as I take him in—so perfect and commanding.
I kiss the tip of his cock softly at first, my lips brushing against it like a whisper. Virgilio groans deeply, the sound vibrating through me. I wrap my hand around the base and press another kiss to it, this time firmer, more insistent.
"Zoe," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. His hands cup the back of my head tenderly.
I open my mouth and take him in slowly, inch by inch, savoring the feel of him against my tongue. Virgilio's groans deepen as I suck gently at first, then harder. I can feel him pulsing in my mouth as I move up and down his length.
His grip on my head tightens slightly—not forceful but guiding—his hips bucking involuntarily as he pushes deeper into my mouth. My tongue swirls around him, exploring every inch as I take him further down my throat.
He moans louder now, each sound sending waves of heat through me. "Zoe- I’m close," he warns between gasps, but I don't stop. Instead, I double my efforts, sucking harder and faster.
Virgilio's moans turn into ragged breaths as he teeters on the edge. His body tenses beneath me, muscles coiling tight like springs ready to snap. He jerks into my mouth once more before finally coming undone.
Warmth floods my mouth as he cums and I swallow every drop without hesitation. The taste of him is intoxicating—a blend of salt and musk that leaves me craving more.
His body shudders with release as he holds onto me tightly, his breaths coming in short bursts. When he's finally spent, I pull back slowly and look up at him. His eyes meet mine with an intensity that leaves me breathless all over again.
He pulls me up, his lips never leaving mine, and then he lowers me back down onto the bed. His kisses are insistent, demanding, but I welcome his urgency. I want all of him, and I want it now.
Virgilio's hands roam over my body, exploring every curve. I feel his calloused thumbs hook into the waistband of my trousers, tugging them downward. I lift my hips to help him undress me, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
His kisses trail downward, along my jaw and down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I tilt my head back, granting him better access. I feel boneless beneath his touch, a puddle of need in his capable hands.
His kisses move lower, trailing along my stomach and lower. His tongue traces the outline of my belly button, and I squirm, giggling at the ticklish sensation.
With gentle hands, Virgilio pushes me onto my back and gazes down at me. I feel utterly exposed and exquisitely desirable under that intense stare. He pulls my bra straps down my arms and kisses my breasts, his breath warm against my skin.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my skin, and I melt at his words. I feel beautiful when he looks at me like that, like I'm the only woman in the world.
I arch my back, offering myself to him, and he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. I moan at the sensation, my fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. His hands cup my breasts, kneading gently as he alternates between them, giving each one equal attention.
Virgilio's tongue flicks out, teasing my peaked nipple, and I cry out at the jolt of pleasure that shoots through me.
"Please," I whisper, not even sure what I'm asking for. I just know I need more. I need all of him.
His hands finally leave my breasts, sliding downward to trace the curve of my hips. My skin is alive with sensation, each nerve ending thrumming with delight.
One hand glides over my thigh, slipping between my legs. I whimper at the intimate touch, my hips lifting off the bed. Virgilio's thumb strokes me gently, and I feel the heat coil within me.
His mouth leaves my breast with a soft pop, and he presses kisses down my torso. I feel him smile against my skin as he enjoys my wanton reactions.
Every touch, every kiss, every stroke of his thumb is driving me closer to the edge. I'm on fire, burning with need for him, and I have no shame in my responsiveness. This is Virgilio, the man I've loved and lost, but found again.
He settles between my legs, his breath hot against my most intimate place. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and I tremble beneath his gaze.
Then, his fingers find me, sliding through my slick folds with practiced ease. I gasp as he teases me, his touch both gentle and insistent. My hips lift off the bed, seeking more of his touch.
"Virgilio," I moan, barely able to form coherent words. "I like it... I want it so much."
His green eyes lock onto mine as he presses a single finger inside me. The sensation is exquisite, and I can't help but cry out at the invasion. He begins to move, thrusting his finger in and out in a steady rhythm that has me seeing stars.
His mouth joins the fray, lips and tongue working in tandem with his finger. He sucks on my clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through my body. I'm a moaning mess beneath him, completely at his mercy.
He adds another finger, stretching me further. The combination of his fingers inside me and his mouth on my clit is almost too much to bear. I can feel the tension building within me, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust and suck.
"Oh god," I pant, gripping the sheets beneath me as if they could anchor me in this storm of sensation. "Don't stop... please."
Virgilio's fingers quicken their pace, curling inside me to hit that perfect spot that has me seeing stars. He adds a third finger, and I cry out at the delicious stretch. His mouth never leaves my clit, sucking harder now as if he can't get enough of my taste.
My body shudders uncontrollably as I reach the peak. The coil inside me snaps, and I'm thrown into a whirlwind of pleasure so intense it steals my breath away. I cum hard around his fingers, my entire body convulsing with the force of it.
Virgilio doesn't let up; he continues to suck on my clit, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until I'm a quivering mess beneath him. He only stops when I've been thoroughly spent, withdrawing his fingers slowly as if reluctant to leave.
He rises up to meet me, a triumphant smile playing on his lips as he captures mine in a tender kiss. I taste myself on him—intimate and raw—and it sends another shiver through me.
His fingers trace my lips, eyes dark with need. He positions himself at my entrance, and I brace myself, anticipation coiling tight in my belly. With a single, powerful thrust, he fills me completely. I gasp, the sensation overwhelming.
He pauses for a moment, letting me adjust to the sudden fullness. His breath is hot against my neck as he waits, muscles tense with restraint. I arch my back, pushing against him, needing more.
"Fuck me faster," I whisper, voice trembling with desire.
His eyes meet mine, a feral intensity burning within them. Without another word, he pulls back and thrusts into me again, harder this time. The bed creaks beneath us as he sets a relentless pace, each stroke driving deeper than the last.
My hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as I hold on for dear life. His hips snap against mine with a rhythm that leaves me breathless. The room fills with the sound of our bodies colliding and our mingled moans.
"Yes," I cry out, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervor. "Just like that."
Virgilio's breath comes in ragged gasps as he pounds into me like he's drowning and I'm his only lifeline. His hands grip my hips tightly, pulling me closer with every thrust. I can feel the raw power in his movements, the desperation and need driving him forward.
I take it all—every hard thrust, every rough kiss—reveling in the intensity of our connection. My body responds to his every move, muscles clenching around him as he drives me closer to the edge.
The pleasure builds inside me like a storm ready to break. Each thrust sends waves of ecstasy through my body until I'm teetering on the brink of release again.
"Virgilio," I moan, my voice thick with need. "I'm so close."
His pace quickens at my words, hips moving with an almost frantic urgency. The tension coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps.
I scream his name as I cum hard around him, my entire body shaking with the force of my orgasm. Virgilio groans deeply at the sensation of me clenching around him, driving him over the edge.
With one final thrust, he buries himself deep inside me and groans loudly as he releases. His hips jerk against mine as he rides out his orgasm, filling me completely.
We lie together, our breaths mingling as we come down from the high of our shared passion. My head rests on Virgilio's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For a moment, everything feels right.
But the urgency from earlier events claws its way back to the forefront of my mind. I can't afford to lose myself in this fleeting peace. I prop myself up on one elbow, looking down at Virgilio. His eyes are closed, his expression serene, almost content.
How different my life is now that Virgilio has found me again. The years working as a sex slave for the Bratva still linger, always lurking at the edges of my mind, playing games with it. The intimacy we share triggers memories I thought I had buried. Every touch, every kiss, reminds me of the darkness I've escaped from and maybe that is why making love to him is the most mind-blowing experience I have ever had.
In Virgilio’s arms, I feel so safe and loved compared to then. The shadows of my past still haunt me, but perhaps his touch will eventually help them disappear.
I still wonder how I survived the constant fear, the degradation… yet, here I am, feeling alive and cherished in a way I never thought possible.
The memories of being used, abused, controlled seem to dissipate when I'm with him, replaced by the warmth and tenderness he offers.
The nightmare isn't over, but for the first time in a long time, I can see a little hope in a future beyond the pain.
Can I ever fully escape the past? I look at Virgilio, and I feel a glimmer of possibility. With him, maybe I can.
"Virgilio," I whisper, needing to break the silence. "There's something you need to know."
He opens his eyes slowly, turning to face me with an attentive but calm expression. "What is it?"
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I have to say. "Benedetto... he told Dante to kill you." I say carefully as I watch for any sign of alarm or fear.
But Virgilio remains unfazed, his gaze steady on mine. It's as if I told him something as mundane as the weather forecast. His calmness is disconcerting.
"Virgilio," I say again, my voice trembling with worry. "Do you understand how serious this is?"