Page 71 of Vito

Somewhere in my ecstasy-addled mind is the warning that I'm falling headlong into an addiction to what he's making me feel and experience.

But I. Don't. Care.

He scissors his fingers while destroying me with his tongue. My core and legs shake; I'm teetering on the edge but the orgasm isn't happening. Ineedto come, but somehow, he's preventing it while still eating me out in a way that is driving me insane.

"Please, Vito," I gasp.

"Say my name again," he growls. "And I want you to come with it on your lips."

"Vito," I moan.

He twists his hand, pressing on the front inside of my wall, causing a sharp pleasure-pain pressure to surge through me. I arch my back, straining taut like a bow about to be released.

He sucks my swollen clit into his mouth, making my body arch further like he's the hunter pulling the bowstring before he releases the kill shot.

My body trembles on the precipice of destruction.

He bites my clit, and the orgasm slices through me. I shout his name as blackness threatens to descend, the convulsions in my core and the pleasure sensations too much to process.

"That's my girl. Mygoodfucking girl." His growl pulls me back, and I feel my thighs slick with release.

My body twitches like a live-wire is hooked to me.

Vito kisses me roughly and possessively, and I feel and taste the wetness of his face. The roughness of his scruff on my skin.

It's unbelievable, but I'm stillnotsatiated. I still need him, want him as if we haven't touched yet.

Shakily, I sit up, and he cups the back of my head to keep my mouth to his.

I place my hands on his chest and push him into my desk chair. He sits, and I move off the desk and sink to my knees in one fluid motion.

His body goes rigid, and he grips my face with his large, scarred hands. His chiseled chest heaves as he stares down at me.

I know what's playing in his head—what happened in the library.

"I believe you," I say, simply and honestly.

I believe him that he was passed out and woke up too late to stop Lexa.

Relief and something else that I refuse to think about are in his eyes. Gripping my hand around his thick, long cock, I lower my mouth and slide down him slowly.

He hisses and then groans hoarsely. His hips shift, trying to get more of him inside my mouth.

"Holy fucking hell, Eden." I raise my eyes to look up at him, and his head has fallen back with a look of wondrous pleasure on his face. "Don't stop, baby. Oh, my fucking god."

I hum around him, then suck hard as I slide up his length and back down.

I've never really cared for giving head before, but being on my knees between his legs with his cock filling my mouth, taking him to the back of my throat makes me feel powerful. He's being as destroyed by what I'm doing as I was with him eating me out.

With him, I don't like giving head… Iloveit.

I work him as relentlessly as he worked me. The ache and throb between my legs urge me on, and I'm getting as much pleasure from this as he is.

And I love it even more when he fists my hair and starts to fuck my mouth, using his hips to get deeper.

But then he pulls me off, a pained sound ripping out of him as if it's the hardest thing he has ever done.

He frames my face, kissing me violently, then stands, bringing me with him, and spins me so my back is flush with his front. One hand cups my breast and the other finds my pussy. He fingers me hard and fast, spiraling me up quickly because I'm so turned-on from giving him head.

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