His Guilty Pleasure

28

Valentina's pov :

I heard a knock and I looked at the clock next to me confused. “Who is it.” I called them and a silent voice was heard from the other side. “ It's me.” I placed my book on the table next to me and walked to the door. I opened it and Vincent walked in my room dressed in only a pair of sweatpants and shirtless.

He went to my bed and manspread as he sat on it. “Hello love.”

I looked at him shocked and be smirked as he saw me staring at his abs. “Like what you see?” he pointed at them and I shook my head. “No.”

I moved closer to him and sat on the empty spot on the bed. “Vincent, for the love of god, it's 3:14 in the morning.” I told him and he let out a silent laugh. “Yeah but as I can see, you weren't asleep. ” he turned to look at me and I stared at his eyes with augh as they shined under the moonlight. “Yeah, you're right.”

He moved a little closer to me and placed his hand on my head. He looked at my wound and sighed. “Are you better now?” He asked me and I nodded my head in agreement. “Good.” he moved his hand from my forehead to my jaw and turned my head with his finger to look at him.

I wanted to ask him why he's here but as I got mesmerized by his beautiful eyes, I couldn't seem to form a sentence. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Barbie.”

“What?” he frowned.

“What?” I told him as I noticed a small smile started to form on his lips.

“Ok, love, I wanted to talk to you.” I blushed at his words and he seemed to notice it because his little smile got replaced with a smirk. “You like it when I call you love?” He asked me and I nodded my head. He placed his finger on my jaw and made me look at him once again. “I need words love.” He told me and my face got even more red. “Yes.” I told him and his smirk widened.

“Well, I would prefer it if instead of love, I could call you mine.” he moved his face closer to mine and I slightly opened my mouth in shock.

I placed my hands on his neck and moved his face closer to mine as our lips connected.

He placed his hands on my waist and sat me on his lap, his lips not leaving mine.

The kiss from slow started to get rough as he moved his hand from my waist, lower, to my thigh.

“Love?” He asked me between kisses and I hummed in agreement.

“Do you know italian?” I stopped the kiss to answer him but he connected our lips again. “No, don't stop kissing me, not yet.”

“Only a little bit.” I told him and he nodded his head as he started to leave kisses on my jaw and then lower, on my neck. “Ok. Capisci cosa sto dicendo adesso?”
(Can you understand what I'm saying now?)

“Valentina?” I asked him and he laughed.

“Oh love, voglio scoparti.” (I wanna fuck you.)

“What does that mean?” I asked him and he kissed my neck one last time before he raised his head to look at me.

“Oh, don't worry darling, you'll find out soon.” And with that, he moved his hands on my waist and turned me around to lie on my back.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” He asked me as he got on top of me.

“No.” I told him and he nodded his head as he placed his lips on my neck again.

“Good.” he searched for my sweet spot once again as I moved my hand on his arm, examining his tattoos.

“So, you've never had had, you know?” he asked me and as soon as I heard those words, my hand stopped moving and I froze.