12. Vincenzo #2
My cock strains against my pants, aching for her.
I reach between her legs, slipping my hand inside her panties, and she's hot, wet, and ready for me.
A groan rumbles through my chest as I tease her entrance before sliding two fingers inside her slowly.
She arches into my touch, her nails digging into my shoulders as a whimper escapes her lips.
"Alessia… fuck, I want you so fucking bad."
Her lids are heavy-lidded, a haze of desire clouding them as she struggles to catch her breath.
"Christ…” she pants, but I lean in, silencing her with a rough kiss.
One hand wanders her body, finding every curve and dip, memorizing them, while the other reaches for my belt.
Her hands find mine there and do the work for me by undoing my belt and unzipping my fly.
She guides my hard length through the fly of my pants, and her eyes widen with a mix of awe and lust as she looks down.
"Alessia…look what you do to me," I growl against her ear before sucking her lobe into my mouth. Her answer is to pump her hips against my hand, driving herself deeper onto my fingers as she rocks on the counter’s edge.
“You’re a little cum slut, aren’t you? Just can’t get enough of me?” I bite her earlobe, and she hisses.
Alessia's cheeks flame at my crude words, but she doesn't deny it. Instead, she leans in closer, her hot breath on my neck as she nips at my earlobe. "I want you so bad," she moans, her accent thick with need. My self-control, already tenuous, shatters.
I tear the front of her robe open to reveal her perfect tits with pearled nipples.
Her hands greedily undo the buttons of my shirt, parting the material as I grip one of her breasts and squeeze.
She slides a hand down over my skin, tracing the lines of my tattoos and narrowing her eyes at the dark ink, but I snatch her hand and kiss her palm, then guide her to my cock, where she grips me and begins stroking softly.
“Do you fuck every woman you protect?” she murmurs while I suck her nipples one at a time and keep the pebbled nubs hard and ripe for enjoyment.
One of my hands slides back into her panties, hooking a finger through the crotch and pulling hard enough to split the seam.
She hisses, and I watch her hips rock again.
“Only the mouthy bitches who beg for it,” I growl as I pull her closer to the edge of the counter.
“Do I look like the begging type?” Alessia shudders as I push her hand away from my cock and line it up to her sopping entrance.
“Baby, I can make you beg if you want me to…” My hips push forward, sliding my dick through her slick folds and deep into her core. She groans as I run my hand up her back and tighten my fingers in a fist, knotting her hair around my hand while I begin pumping.
“Make me beg,” she grunts. Her neck is arched back so far, she can barely speak. I bite her pulse point hard, and she hisses.
"You asked for it," I growl, my grip tightening in her hair as I plunge into her depths even deeper.
She gasps, every exhale a rib-clenching moan that heightens my arousal.
I run my hand down her spine before cupping her ass and slamming us together harder.
Her core squeezes me, the tightness driving me insane with lust. "Oh, fuck, Enzo…
" she pants, her hips bucking against mine.
An animalistic growl escapes my lips as she contradicts herself, one moment telling me to stop, the next urging me on with her body language.
I bite her bottom lip roughly, stealing a messy kiss while my hips piston in and out of hers relentlessly. “Beg me to make you come.”
“Please,” she whimpers. Her hands are splayed on my chest, fingertips brushing lightly but not making contact with her palms.
“I said beg, dammit,” I growl, and her eyes pop open again. They dart around my face and her lip quivers. Alessia's chest heaves, her breaths ragged as she whimpers under my dominant touch. I angle her hips just right, hitting that sweet spot inside her that makes her gasp, then cry out.
"Fuck me," she grunts out between gasps. "Fuck me harder, Enzo." I smirk, my ego stroked by her words. My grip on her hips tightens as I do as she asks.
“Do what to you?” I prod as I bite her chin, then her jaw, then her neck.
My cock twitches inside her, the tightening of her slick folds around my shaft almost enough to send me over the edge.
I've never wanted something or someone so much in my life, but I hold back.
I want to savor this, draw it out and make sure she won't ever forget this night or me.
“Make me come… Please… Oh, God, I’m so close.”
"Oh, you like that?" I growl against her ear as I angle my hips upward, hitting that sweet spot again and again. Her moans only intensify, and with each squeeze of her wet center around my cock, my control slips further and further away.
"Say it again," I rasp in her ear, my thrusts unrelenting. "Say you want me to make you come, and it's yours."
"Yes," she moans through gritted teeth, her nails digging into my back. "I want you to make me come, Enzo. Please!"
"That's better." I chuckle darkly before slamming into her one last time, hitting that magic spot so deep inside her that I can feel her orgasm ripple through her body.
Her pussy clenches around my dick as her hips rise off the countertop and she screams in pleasure.
The sensation sends me over the edge too, and with a low growl, I empty myself into her, my entire body shaking with pleasure.
She shakes and convulses, milking me, and I groan and let the fullness of my release drain every ounce of tension from my body. We’re panting, chests heaving from effort, and she clings to me, kissing my chest softly.
Her lips find mine in a sensual exploration as I pull out and let my cum drain from her body. She whimpers when I pull away, but I help her off the counter and make sure she’s steady on her feet—weak in the knees—before I finally pull away for good.
Afterward, she opens the bottle and pours herself a drink, then slips her robe back on as she offers me one. Her hands don’t shake, but there’s tension in the way she holds the glass, like the adrenaline hasn’t quite left her system.
"No, thank you… I still have some work to get done tonight." I pick up my clothing, but my mind is already going toward what I have to do next. She's safe here, and I need to post a man at her door now and follow up on why Leo let this shit happen.
I dress quickly, rolling up my sleeves and checking my phone as I slide it back into my jacket pocket. She doesn’t try to stop me this time, and I don’t explain why I can't stay. There’s nothing tender about the silence—only understanding, though I see the hesitancy in her expression.
"What if they come back?"
"They're not coming back tonight. I'll send Rory up and he'll keep watch.
You have your weapon… Use it no matter who walks through.
My men won't come in unless you ask them.
" With my clothing back in place, I press a kiss to her forehead and linger for a second.
"You're safe, Bella." She's gotten under my skin.
She's not just a mark now or someone I protect.
She's mine, and every part of my being knows it.
I kiss her one last time and sneak out before she can give me those sad eyes.
By the time I make it back to the compound, the gate’s locked and the courtyard’s quiet.
The dogs don't even bark. No one is on the perimeter. I walk up the front steps, already on alert, and that’s when I see a flat envelope.
The envelope has no label, no return address, and no identifying marks.
My name is printed cleanly in block letters across the front, centered like it was done with care. It hasn’t been tossed or slid under the door—it’s been placed there intentionally. Meant to be found by me and no one else.
Glancing around to see if I can see the person who left it, I pick it up and take it upstairs, locking the door behind me before I open it.
Inside is a flash drive. It’s the kind you find at a kiosk or convenience store, plain and cheap—meant to be used once and discarded.
Clearly disposable, clearly meant for this moment only.
I boot up the laptop I don’t keep connected to any network and plug it in.
The file opens without my prompting it, and I stare at the first frame as it comes into focus. It’s video footage. Alessia appears on screen.
She’s in the lab, running bloodwork, loading samples, scribbling something on a clipboard.
The angle is wide, like it was taken from the mounted surveillance unit that's standard there.
Which means someone has hacked into the government servers.
Someone else is watching her—closely, carefully, and without her knowing.
This isn’t just surveillance. It’s a message—to me, not her, which means they want me to know they're on to my part in this game we're playing.
I watch until the footage loops, then remove the drive and set it on the desk. I don’t crush it because I want to know who sent it, how they got access, and how long they’ve been this close to her without my knowing.
She called me tonight because she was scared. She asked me to stay because I make her feel safe. But what she doesn't understand is I'm not God and I can't stop the storm that's coming. The Bianchis know what is happening now, and they're not going to quit until they're certain they are secure.
This isn’t just a warning.
It’s a threat.