Page 73 of Vito

The same need and want for her still roars inside me, as if the past six hours hadn't happened and that I hadn't fucked her multiple times.

Actually, it's not the same need and want as before; it'sworse. Because now I know she wants me as badly. And I know how she feels. How she tastes. How she moves.

I now know the level of pleasure that's attainable with her, the mind-altering orgasms.

I'm ravenous. To sink inside her again. To give her pleasure as much as to take my own.

I'm craving to hold her against me while she sleeps. Every night.

In short, I'm fucked.

We're supposed to be done once we leave this office. Weneedto be done. That's the end of it.

We're supposed to be able to be around each other, look at each other, and not feel anything. We're supposed to be satisfied, satiated.

Like every other time with any other.

We have to be because the risk is too great.

I don't care much about the risk to myself—I accepted a long time ago that my life could be cut short, and I'd likely go out in a world of pain and blood. But I couldn't stomach it if something happened to my family because of me; I'm their protector. And I can't even think of something happening to Eden because of me.

Even if Eden wanted to walk away from her role at Gilly's, she couldn't. No one ever left the position that way—the Chamber would never allow it because it's too risky. Succession happens only upon death.

Eden stirs against my side, her arm tightening around my waist, and her face presses harder into my chest. I hug my arm around her, reach across with the other, and run my fingers through her silky hair. She sighs, wiggling closer.

It's unbelievable, but my cock is hard again. Her hand finds my rigid length and strokes it.

Shifting her hips to rub against me, she groans. "I think my clit and lips are swollen. I need an ice pack."

I laugh, pulling her to lay on top of me.

"And a shower." She lifts her head. Her hair mussed and wild, her hazel eyes still sleepy but filling with need again. I'm pleased I'm not the only one who hasn't been satiated. "I can't imagine what it smells like in here."

I laugh again. "A hot box of sweaty sex."

She wrinkles her nose, then the light in her eyes dims slightly. "You better go."

"I know." I make no move to leave, though. Ican't.I can't convince my body to move.

Resting her chin on my chest, her eyes stare into mine. "What did we do, Vito?" she whispers. "This was supposed to be one-and-done."

One time, twice, and even one night wasn't enough.

I rub her back. "Maybe one week? We only meet in the tunnel. But not whenever we feel the urge to fuck the other; only when we're so horny, it's distracting. Keep it to once a day at the very most."

She bites her lip as she thinks about it. "No risk-taking. When we're outside the tunnel, it's back to you being unreadable, cool, and aloof, and me with my resting bitch face, sarcastic and impassive. No slip-ups."

"I think that's doable."

"Promise?"

"Do you want me to cross my heart and hope to die, too?" I tease her with what she said to me in her apartment.

"Just cross your heart. I don't want you to die," she whispers, and her serious eyes glisten.

I drag my thumb under her eye to catch the tears. "I don't want you to die, either, baby girl."

She closes her eyes. "Fuck me, Vito. Screw me. But not soft and tender. Don't do that to me. Promise me."

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