Sinful Obsession

13. 13 – Vito

13 – Vito

T he air in Vienna’s room feels heavier as I stare at the beautiful woman standing before me, taunting me. Ewan mentioned that Vienna is like a drug, something we just can’t get enough of. It’s one reason why I don’t think she’s human because there no reason for the four horsemen to be thrown off by one woman. It doesn’t make any sense.

But Ewan is right. Vienna is a drug, and I’m already addicted.

She’s looking up at me, those big, hopeful brown eyes locking me in place. There’s a softness in her gaze that is rarely directed at me. Most people here are terrified of us, including the orderlies. They steer clear as often as they can. Even the other horsemen, as much as we love each other, there’s no gentle touches between us. Not like this, not the way her hand is currently pressed against my chest, waiting for me to make a move.

My mind screams to step back, but my body—the body that’s always been disciplined, restrained—is drawn forward, pulled into her orbit. I cup her face, my thumb brushing her cheek as her lips part with the smallest, sweetest gasp. She doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even flinch, and that vulnerability undoes me completely.

“Vienna,” I murmur. “We shouldn’t…”

But she tilts her head, leaning into my touch. “Vito,” she whispers, my name on her lips is my undoing.

I close the distance, kissing her like a man starved. Her lips are soft, warm, and they part for me with an eagerness that steals the breath from my lungs. A sweet sound escapes her, my fingers threading through her hair, angling her closer as I deepen the kiss, tasting her, needing more.

She presses against me, her body melting against my chest, and I lose the battle with myself. I lift her effortlessly and carry her to the bed. I lay her down gently, hovering over her, trying to give her space to stop this, to stop me. But she doesn’t. Her hands slide to my shoulders, tugging me closer, her breath warm against my cheek. “Please,” she whispers, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

I kiss her again, but it’s different this time—slower, more deliberate. My hands explore the curve of her waist, the dip of her hips, memorizing every inch of her. She trembles beneath me, Vienna so much more responsive than anyone else I’ve touched. It’s intoxicating. Every soft moan, every shiver, draws me deeper into her spell.

I’m careful as I undress her, not wanting to hurt her and wanting to devour her all the same. “I’m not fragile, Vito.” A tendril of uncertainty runs through her expression before it’s replaced with need. I couldn’t imagine the body she was hiding beneath those frumpy scrubs, full curves that fit into the palms of my hands as I slide down to grip her waist.

I see now what Asmodeus sees, the irresistible pull of her light, her purity. She’s not just a human; she’s something more, something rare and precious. And for the first time, I’m terrified—not of her, but of what losing her would mean. It doesn’t matter if it’s been hours since I met her, I’m obsessed.

“Vienna,” I say again, my voice barely more than a rasp. She looks at me, chewing her bottom lip, my chest tightening as that bit of uncertainty runs through her expression again. “Tell me to stop, Vienna. Tell me we shouldn’t be doing this.”

She shakes her head, her fingers brushing along the edge of my jaw. “Don’t stop,” she murmurs.

So I don’t.

I shed my clothes and crawl back onto the bed, situating myself between her thighs before thrusting forward. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper inside of her as her pussy strangles my cock. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as I rock against her, waiting for her to beg me to keep going. “Vienna,” I breathe against her lips. “You feel like you were made for me, for us,” I say, quickly correcting myself. She’s more than just mine.

Her moans sound like the very darkness and chaos I enjoy, a melody that speaks to what’s left of my soul. When she finally nods, I pick up a slow, torturous rhythm so that I can worship every inch of her body. She responds so beautifully, a melody of soft moans and whispered words as I fuck her and kiss her, claiming her in a way I haven’t even done with Nevan.

Maybe she’s a trap.

A lure to drag me away from my purpose.

In this moment, I don’t really fucking care.

Especially when my name on her lips becomes one of the sweetest things I’ve heard, her gasps lengthening as I thrust one last time and explode inside of her. I nearly collapse onto her, pulling her with me onto our sides so that we’re still connected, my body already begging for another round.

I stroke her hair, my thoughts a tangled mess. She’s not just a pawn in some cosmic game, not just a human who’s been manipulated by Asmodeus to release Satan’s son. She’s something else entirely, something I can’t put my finger on, but it’s there—a spark, a pull that sets her apart from anyone I’ve ever met.

I press a kiss to her temple, holding her tighter. “I’ll protect you,” I whisper into her hair. “No matter what, Vienna, I’ll keep you safe.”

She hums softly, already drifting to sleep, her trust wrapping around me like a chain. I know I’m playing with fire. But as I watch her sleep, curled up in my arms like the most precious thing in the world, I realize I don’t care. If she’s the fire, I’ll gladly burn.