★★Mariella's POV★★



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Our foreheads press together, breaths mingling, the space between us charged like a live wire. His grip tightens, his hands possessive, burning against my skin. Then, before I can react, he lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist, my body molding to his like I belong there. One hand tangles in my hair, the other grips me my ass cheek, holding me up against him as his gaze drops to my lips.

"Fuck, Mariella," he groans, voice thick with need.

His lips crash against mine before I can speak, devouring me in a kiss that's anything but gentle. It's raw, desperate—his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his teeth grazing my lower lip, claiming me. I moan into him, fingers threading through his hair, tugging hard. He growls at the sensation, the vibration sending shivers down my spine.

He moves, carrying me with ease, his hands gripping my ass, pressing me against the hard length of him. Every movement is feverish, reckless. His kisses are deep and messy, full of hunger, as if he's been starving for me. My nails dig into his shoulders, urging him on, and he obliges—his grip tightening, his body pressing me closer until there's no space left between us.

Rough. Unrelenting. Perfect.

Even when he nips at my lip, even when his teeth scrape against me like he wants to devour me whole—I wouldn't have it any other way.

He moves us to the table with urgency, his grip firm yet reverent. With one swift motion, he shoves everything aside—papers fluttering to the ground, a pen rolling off the edge—before setting me down, his mouth never leaving mine. His kiss is bruising, desperate, consuming.

I pull back slightly to catch my breath, but he fists my hair and growls, "Don't move."

The raw need in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, an electric current sparking between my thighs. His lips move down, dragging fire along my skin as he kisses my jaw, my throat, down to the sensitive dip of my collarbone.

"Oh, you want to play rough?" I whispered, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.

"Rough?" he chuckled, tilting his head. "Sweetheart, I'd never be too rough with you... unless you asked nicely."

His lips trailed down my neck, and I moaned his name, "Leon." His body was hot, and I could feel his desire washing over me. He pushed me down, and I lay back on the table, feeling the cool surface beneath me. His eyes, hungry and intense, looked into mine, and I felt like I was drowning in them.

"I'm going to devour you, baby—and you'll love every minute of it," he murmurs against my lips, both of us breathless from our desperate, hungry kiss.

I look at him through my lashes, the thrill of danger sending a shockwave straight to my core.

He smirked, daring me to resist what was about to happen. His rough fingers lifted up my shirt, exposing my black lace underwear. The air was cool on my skin, but it didn't calm the fire that burned inside me. He tossed my shirt aside and unclasped my bra, baring my breasts to him. My nipples hardened as he looked at me with hunger in his eyes.

"You are absolutely exquisite," he exhales, his fingers tracing patterns over my ribcage, reverent and possessive all at once.

"Fuck you," I said, trying to sound annoyed, but my voice was laced with desire.

"Oh, don't mind if I do," he replied, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "In fact, I think I'll make you beg for it."

His fingers teased my skin, and I shivered. I tried to hide it, but it was no use. He pulled my shorts and underwear down, and I felt the cool air on my skin. He bunched up my underwear and put them in his pocket, never looking away from me.

I arch a brow, tilting my head as I let a slow smirk play on my lips. "You think you have that kind of effect on me?" I taunt, feigning boredom even as my pulse betrays me, hammering against my ribs.

Now who's lying now Mariella?

His grip tightens, his voice dropping into something dark and delicious. "Oh, baby," he murmurs, his breath searing against my skin. "I'm going to make you scream my name. And you're going to love every minute of it."

His fingers traced a path up my stomach, down to my legs, and I felt the tension building. He parted my legs, baring my pussy to his gaze. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, but I couldn't look away from him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice full of awe. "And all mine."

I moaned as he leaned down and kissed my pelvic bone. My head fell back, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed how I feel my pussy throb from his words and the attention he's giving me.

My body surrendering to the fire he's igniting in me. Every part of me is awake, on edge, burning. And the worst part?

I want him.

I want him more than I should.

"Mine," he repeated, his voice like a claim of ownership. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

I was lost in a sea of desire, unable to think straight. His touch was like a key, unlocking my deepest passions. I was exposed and vulnerable, but I felt alive. His breathing, his lips on my skin, was like music to me. I was an instrument, and he was the master, playing me perfectly. And I couldn't resist the beauty of what we were creating together.

He smiled against my skin, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. He placed another kiss on my skin, just above my clit, and I felt my impatience grow. "Leon," I whispered, my voice laced with desperation.

He chuckled softly, his lips still pressed against my skin. "Good things happen to those who wait, little princess," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looked up at me.

My eyes narrowed at him, but I couldn't help the shudder that ran through my body as his hot breath fanned across my most sensitive area. His teeth scraped against my mound, and I screamed, thrashing against his touch. He held me in place, his grip on my knees tightening as he said, "Mariella, what did I say."

I calmed down, my body stilling as I looked up at him. I knew what he was waiting for - my submission, my surrender to his touch. And I was ready to give it to him. Without a warning, he dipped his head, his tongue lashing out to stroke my clit. He licks the entirety of my slit, his tongue moving leisurely all the way up to the bundle of nerves before he sucks my clit.

I whimper, my body arching off the table as he devoured me with his mouth.

His tongue was like a wildfire, burning through my defenses and leaving me a quivering, helpless mess. I felt his fingers digging into my skin, holding me in place as he feasted on my pussy. His mouth was a vortex, sucking me in and refusing to let go. I was trapped in a whirlpool of pleasure, unable to escape the torrent of sensations that he was unleashing on me.

I feel my arousal sliding down my stomach. He groans, noting the desire flooding from my entrance.

And then, just when I thought I was going to come, he stopped. He pulled back, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he looked up at me. "You're so close, aren't you, my princess?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "But you're not going to come yet. Not until I say you can."

I moaned, my body writhing in frustration. I was a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment. And he knew it. He was playing me like a fiddle, teasing me and tormenting me with his touch. But I couldn't help it - I was his to play with, his to command. And I was ready to do whatever it took to get him to make me come.

As I lay there, I couldn't help but feel his eyes on me, burning with desire. He leaned in, his hot breath washing over my skin, and I felt his finger brush against my clit. I moaned, my body arching off the table as he teased me with his touch.

"You're so sensitive, aren't you, Mariella?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I love how you respond to my touch."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the moans that were building in my throat. But it was no use - as soon as he slowly slips one finger inside me, I was lost. I moaned, my body writhing in pleasure as he stroked my inner walls, his middle finger curling to hit that sweet spit. My hips bucks against his hand, a different type of pleasure swelling inside of me.

"Remember when you gave me the finger last time?" he said, his voice low and husky as he tilts his head watching his fingers slide in and out of me. "But not one, baby - two. In the same day."

Ah, fuck me. You stupid bitch.

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I remembered the way I'd flipped him off, twice, in one day. It had been a bold move, but he'd taken it as a challenge. And now, it seemed, he was collecting on that challenge.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement, as he slips his ring finger inside me. I gasped, my body stretching to accommodate the additional invasion. He moved his fingers around, stroking my inner walls and sending shivers down my spine.

"You were so feisty that day," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "I loved it. And now, I'm going to make you pay for it." he says softy, my juices collecting in his palm of his hand.

I moaned, my body arching off the table as he worked his fingers inside me. He was relentless, pounding into me with a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful. I felt myself building, my climax rising like a wave, and I knew I was going to come.

But he wasn't done yet. He withdraws his two fingers to the very tip, swiping his finger along my entrance, and when he sinks back inside me, he adds a third finger, stretching me to the limit, and I screamed. My eyes roll as he stretches me, my body grinding myself against him. My body was on fire, my nerves screaming in pleasure as he worked me over. I was a instrument, and he was the master, playing me like a virtuoso.

"You're so tight, Mariella," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I love the way you squeeze my fingers. It's like you're trying to milk me dry."

I moaned his name loud, my body writhing in pleasure. I was lost, gone, consumed by the sensations that he was unleashing on me. And I knew I was his, completely and utterly, to do with as he pleased.

His tongues dives into my pussy, licking the insides with ravenous strokes. His tongue swirls up to my clit with the perfect amount of pressure, paying special attention to the abused bud before dipping lower again and spearing the muscles inside of my pussy. I grip his hair as I ride his tongue.

This isn't an ascent to heaven—it's a plunge into sin.

It's the devil standing before me, tearing my soul from my body and dragging me into the depths of hell with him

"Come for me, Mariella," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Come for me, and show me what you're made of."

"Leon," I cry out, my voice raw and breathless. Moans spill from my lips as he growls in response, the sound vibrating through me like a spark igniting a wildfire. His hands grip my thighs with bruising possession, forcing them apart as his tongue continues its ruthless assault on my aching, pulsing cunt. Pleasure crashes over me in relentless waves, dragging me under, stretching the orgasm far beyond what my trembling body can withstand.

He tears his mouth away, a guttural groan rumbling deep in his chest as he prowls up my body, his weight pressing me into the table. His lips graze mine, teasing, lingering—before he parts his mouth just enough to let a slow, deliberate trail of saliva drip onto my tongue.

"Swallow," he rasps, his voice rough with desire. "Taste yourself."

And I do.

My throat works as the intoxicating flavor spreads across my tongue, the raw intimacy of it making my body shudder beneath him. His smirk is dark, possessive as he studies my flushed cheeks, the sweat beading down my breast.

"Mon Dieu, tu es tellement belle, (God, you're so fucking beautiful,)" he murmurs, his fingers tracing over my heated skin like he's memorizing every inch.

And as I lay there, my body still shuddering with pleasure, I knew that I was his. Completely and utterly, I was his.

I scoff, shaking my head, equal parts annoyed and embarrassed. My hands press firmly against his chest, and with all the strength I can muster, I push him off me.

"I'm still pissed at you," I mutter, my voice laced with defiance.

Leon barely budges, his smirk deepening as he watches me, amusement flickering in his darkened eyes. "Oh, I know, little princess," he murmurs, dragging a finger down my jaw. "But that didn't stop you from screaming my name."

I scoffed, trying to play it cool, but he just turned around and grabbed a napkin, his eyes never leaving mine. He walked over to me, his movements confident and deliberate, and I watched him carefully as he cleaned my juices off of my pussy and down my thigh. The touch was intimate, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as he gently wiped me clean.

I smirk, locking eyes with him as I lean back against the table, my arms crossing. "You need to eat. You haven't eaten since yesterday," he says, his voice soft but stern, his eyes tracing every inch of my face like it's the only thing that matters in the room.

I raise an eyebrow, keeping my tone playful but edged with defiance. "Fine. But I'm not stepping out of here without my clothes. You planning on letting me walk around like this?" I tease, glancing down at myself.

His playful grin falters, and his gaze sharpens. "Mariella," he growls, voice low and firm. "If you even think about walking around in just your underwear, I'll gouge everyones eyes out in the building." His eyes narrow with a possessive intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

I can't help but smirk, leaning in just slightly to kiss him on the lips, soft and teasing. "That's cute," I whisper against his mouth before pulling away. His expression shifts, his breath coming a little heavier, but he doesn't break eye contact as he grabs my shirt and shorts from the floor.

I slide down from the table, picking up my shorts from his hands. He watches me for a moment, then steps forward, the tension between us thickening with every move. "Here," he says as he helps me put on my shirt, his hands gentle but sure as he adjusts the fabric. My pulse quickens when his fingers brush my skin, and the small gesture feels like a promise.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead, his touch lingering longer than necessary. "Much better," he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with something deeper, something we both try not to acknowledge.

I chuckle lightly, rolling my eyes at him, but the butterflies in my stomach are impossible to ignore. We make our way to the dining hall, the air between us thick with unspoken words and a tension that promises whatever happens next will be anything but ordinary.

As we walk through the long hallways, the usual chatter and laughter fill the air, but it comes to a screeching halt when we step into the dining room. The room goes quiet as all eyes land on us—Leon and me standing in the doorway. Damien and Antonino exchange confused glances, while Iyanna's gaze shifts from me to Leon, her eyes growing wide in realization as she notices my messy hair and swollen lips. She quickly looks away, clearly trying to hide the reaction.

The two strangers in the room glance back and forth between Leon and me, and I feel the heat of embarrassment creep up my neck. I'm sure my face is as red as a tomato, and I can only imagine what they're thinking. There's no way they didn't hear me screaming Leon's name out of pleasurement.

Leon, as stoic as ever, walks in with his hands casually tucked in his pockets, his expression unreadable. I, on the other hand, try to keep my composure, but the last thing I want right now is to be the center of attention.

Leon strides up to the table and asks, his voice cutting through the awkward silence, "What's for breakfast?"

Antonino looks caught off guard, fumbling with his words as he stammers, "Uh... French toast."

Leon grabs a plate piled high with French toast and a cup of coffee, then looks over his shoulder at me. "Sit," he says, and I reluctantly step into the room, trying to figure out where to sit, feeling like the world's most awkward person.

Finally, I find an empty chair, and everyone's eyes are on me like I'm some kind of spectacle. I clear my throat, trying to shake off the nervous energy. "So..." I start, but it sounds more like an awkward question than anything else.

Leon slides into the chair beside me, placing a plate of food in front of me. His eyes are fixed on me as he takes his seat, watching me quietly as if expecting me to say something. I swallow nervously. "Thank you," I say, almost in a whisper.

There's a beat of silence before the ever-bubbly Iyanna breaks it, her voice casual yet laced with amusement. "Keep the clothes," she says.

I choke on my French toast, wishing I could just disappear right there and then. My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I glance at Leon, but he's hiding his smirk behind his coffee cup. He finds my discomfort amusing, and I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off.

Now I wish I was blown up.

Damien, seeming unfazed by the tension, leans forward, his eyes twinkling with interest. "Guess what?"

We all turn our attention to him, and he continues, "We found out where Niko disappeared to."

Leon's hand pauses mid-air as he sets his coffee down. He leans forward, his attention now fully on Damien, signaling for him to go on. "Back to his homeland," Damien says.

I blink, confused. "Fucker got scared and went back to Greece?" I scoff, still trying to wrap my head around it.

Damien nods, confirming. "Apparently, he has to. Since he's not protected here, it's not his territory anymore."

Leon growls, irritation flooding his voice as he leans back in his chair. "Bastard went back to daddy," he mutters, clearly disgusted.

I grip my fork so tightly I feel my knuckles go white. My heart races with frustration. Of course, he'd run back to his father. The same father I've been itching to take down. I'll make sure it's my knife that ends Zervos line, no one else's.

I look over at Leon, still seething. "So what now?" I ask, my voice tinged with annoyance.

Leon gives me a hard look, his voice level. "I guess we wait."

I snort in disbelief. "My ass we wait," I snap, leaning forward. I look straight at him, pissed. "We don't just wait. Not after all this trouble he's caused. Not after everything."

Leon's face hardens, and he places his hands on top of mine, trying to calm me. "Baby, we can't do anything if he's back in his territory. It's too dangerous," he says, his voice low but firm.

I grit my teeth, frustration building. "Leon," I hiss, my patience wearing thin.

He challenges me with a single word. "Mariella."

Our eyes lock for a moment, and the tension crackles between us. I scoff and take a gulp of my coffee, trying to force myself to calm down.

Then, as if to break the silence, a voice I don't recognize chimes in from across the table. "If he left, then we make him come back."

I blink, confused. I hadn't even noticed the woman sitting there. She's small, nerdy-looking, with glasses perched on her nose and a laptop open in front of her. But there's something about her that screams intelligence, and her words catch my attention immediately.

I stare at her, my eyebrow raised. "And you are?" I ask, my tone dripping with annoyance.

She looks up at me, unfazed by my attitude. "I'm Lili. I'm Leon's personal hacker." She says it with a quiet confidence, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

I blink again, surprised. "Wait, what?" I glance at Leon, who just shrugs as if it's no big deal.

Lili pulls up her laptop, typing rapidly, her eyes flicking between the screen and me. "We can track him down. If he's back in his homeland, we can use his connections, his movements. It's just a matter of time before we catch him. And when we do, we'll make him pay for everything."

I glance at Leon, still processing everything, then back at Lili. "Well, I hope you know what you're doing." I take a deep breath, trying to let go of some of my anger. "I'm not just waiting around for him to make a move."

Leon looks at me, his expression unreadable. "No one's waiting. We're getting to work."

So we're back in business baby.

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WELLLLLL???!

are we still here??

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡