Page 31 of And Back

Almost.

"I know I've lost your trust," he says quietly. "And I don’t deserve your forgiveness."

"Damn right you don’t," I snap back.

"But please," he continues, undeterred by my anger. "Please know that everything I did was because I care about you more than anything."

My chest tightens, and I can barely breathe. The betrayal cuts so deep that it feels like I'm drowning in it. Virgilio stands there, his face a mask of regret and sorrow, but all I can see is the man who shattered my trust.

"Everything you did?" I spit out, my voice raw and broken. "You think caring about me justifies lying to me? Using me?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but the words die on his lips.

"Zoe, please," he starts again, his voice a whisper. "I thought I was protecting you."

My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. I want to scream at him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain he's caused me. But instead, something snaps inside me—a raw, primal urge takes over.

Before I can think it through, I close the distance between us in two quick strides and crush my lips against his. It's not a gentle kiss; it's fierce and demanding, full of anger and need. My teeth clash against his as I pour all my hurt and confusion into the kiss.

Virgilio's hands come up to push me away gently. "Zoe," he mumbles against my mouth, trying to break free. "We need to talk?—"

I don't let him finish. My hands grip the back of his neck tightly, pulling him closer. "No talking," I whisper fiercely between kisses. "Just this."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ZOE

Ipress my lips harder against Virgilio's. He tries to push me away again, his hands coming up to my shoulders. "Zoe," he mumbles against my mouth, his voice strained.

Ignoring him, I slip my hand inside his trousers, palming him through the fabric. His breath hitches, and a low groan escapes his lips. I can feel the tension in his body, the conflict between his desire and his guilt.

"Stop," he whispers, trying to regain control of the kiss. His hands grip my arms tightly, attempting to guide me away.

"No," I say firmly, breaking the kiss just enough to speak. "You can't touch me." I see the confusion and frustration in his eyes, but he doesn't protest further.

I kneel down in front of him, my fingers deftly working to remove his belt. The metal buckle clinks as I undo it, and I slide it out of the loops with a swift motion. My hands move to the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down along with his underwear. His arousal springs free, and I can see the raw need in his eyes.

I wrap my hand around him gently at first, feeling the warmth and firmness of his length. My fingers move from the base of his shaft up to the tip in a slow, deliberate motion. Virgilio's breath comes in ragged gasps, and he grips the edge of the table behind him for support.

My other hand cups his balls, massaging them lightly as I continue to stroke him. The contrast between my firm grip on his shaft and the gentle touch on his balls makes him shudder. He closes his eyes briefly, letting out another groan.

"Zoe," he whispers again, but there's no resistance in his voice now—only surrender.

I focus on every inch of him, tracing veins and ridges with my fingertips. My thumb brushes over the sensitive head of his dick, smearing the bead of pre-cum that has gathered there. Virgilio's hips jerk involuntarily at the sensation.

Slowly, I palm him from his balls to the tip over and over again. Each stroke is precise and measured, designed to drive him wild with need while keeping him teetering on the edge of control. His breathing grows heavier with each passing moment.

I can feel the power shifting between us as I maintain control over this intimate act. For once, he's completely at my mercy.

Virgilio's knuckles turn white as he grips the table harder, trying to anchor himself against the rising tide of pleasure I'm giving him. And for now, that's enough for me—to have this moment where everything else fades away except for us and this connection we share.

The tension in his body tells me he's close to losing control entirely. His breathing becomes erratic; every muscle taut with anticipation as I continue my slow torture from base to tip.

I remove my hand from his shaft and replace it with my tongue. Starting at his balls, I lick a slow, deliberate path up to the tip, savoring the salty taste of his skin. Virgilio shudders above me, a low moan escaping his lips.

I swirl my tongue around the head of his dick before sliding him into my mouth, inch by inch, until he hits the back of my throat. His hips jerk involuntarily.

Virgilio's hand reaches out to touch my hair, fingers tangling in the strands as if to hold me in place. Instantly, I pull back, letting his dick slip from my mouth.

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