Chapter Eight
“So what’s the deal with you and Rocco?”
I press the cold water bottle harder against the side of my face, feeling the plastic bend under my grip. Luckily, Mateo’s punch didn’t leave much of a bruise, so I don’t even know why I keep cooling the skin down. Since it’s been a few days since he hit me, the bruising would have already appeared.
“Why do you want to know?” I shoot back at Alana, tossing my long hair over my shoulder and narrowing my eyes at her.
She grins wider. “Because I’m so fucking curious. We all heard the stories of your marriage, but I don’t think any of us expected you to become a real couple.”
I’m not sure there’s a label for what Rocco and I are. Yes, we’re married, and we live together. We also do all the stuff married people do. So maybe that’s my answer.
“Come on, mamacita,” Sasha adds, playfully wiggling her eyebrows. “Give us something.”
The word hits me right in the heart. I know that mamacita has become a slang word that can be used for all women. But it means little mom or hot mom. Something I never want to be… a mom, hot or otherwise.
“Wait.” I turn around just as Cain comes sauntering up to the bar. “I want to know as well. Like, is my bro good in the sack? Does he—”
“Fuck off, Cain,” Alana giggles as she picks up a coaster and throws it at him. “This is girl talk.”
“Yeah, but Sasha is asking questions she already knows the answer to,” Cain gripes.
My back stiffens, and I turn to the Diamond in question. “You’ve fucked Rocco?” Since that much is already clear, I ask what I really want to know. “While we were married?” I’m unable to hide the malice tinting my tone.
Sasha immediately holds her hands up. “Hang the fuck on. I don’t fuck married men,” she rushes out.
“We all have a past,” Alana says. She shoots a glare in Cain’s direction. “And some of us should stop fucking antagonizing the rest of us.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” Cain chuckles as he reaches for the glass of whiskey Tex’s holding out to him. “It’s much better once everything’s out in the open. I’d hate for any nasty secrets to come back and bite any of your lovely asses later.”
He has a point, and after how I behaved with Mindy, I can’t exactly blame him for forcing the issue.
“I don’t care,” I say to no one in particular. “Whatever Rocco did before me is none of my concern.”
The words are pretty, but the way I’m now looking at Sasha isn’t. It’s not her fault, and I’m rational enough to know I need to keep my inner bitch locked down tight. Because unlike with Mindy, Sasha isn’t throwing it in my face, and I had no claim on Rocco then.
“None of your concern, ehh?” Rocco asks, as he comes up to the bar.
“Double Gs,” Cain grins and nods at Gray and Gunner as they trail in behind Rocco.
While Gunner is all smiles, his pal looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
Honestly, why does Gray look so… homeless?
I’ve never asked Rocco about his finances, and I never will. But as I look around at Dirty Diamonds, and all the people here, money doesn’t seem to be a concern.
It’s not like anyone is brimming with wealth, but no one looks as rugged as Gray. I mean, his clothes don’t even fit him, and he’s in dire need of a haircut. And don’t even get me started on his lack of shaving. Unlike Rocco’s scruff, which looks intentional, Gray’s patchy stubble looks like it’s from not caring.
“Nope,” I quip, popping the p. “But I should warn you that if you fuck around on me, I’ll fucking castrate you.”
Sasha and Alana gasp while Cain and Tex chuckle. Rocco, though, he just smiles widely.
“And if you fuck around on me, Killer, I’ll kill the guy in front of you and lock you up,” he growls.
Considering my past, that warning shouldn’t make my body ignite with desire. There’s no helping it, though. Especially not when he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle, definitely not as he licks and nibbles on the shell of my ear.
“Make no mistake, Killer. You’re mine.”
“Prove it,” I shoot back.
With a playful smile grazing his lips, Rocco lifts me off the barstool and easily turns me around in his hold. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist and my hands rest on his shoulders.
As Rocco’s lips descend on mine in a bruising kiss, the rest of the room fades away. I can no longer hear their laughter, teasing jabs, or anything else. They become inconsequential and forgotten as I stroke Rocco’s tongue with mine.
When he moves his hands to my ass, squeezing the globes, I moan into his mouth. My hips move of their own accord, and I rock against the hardness growing between us.
“Not here, hermosa,” he rasps into my mouth.
“Then where?” I moan impatiently.
I’m vaguely aware of Cain mentioning his office, but I don’t pay much attention. Instead, I pepper Rocco’s jaw and neck with kisses, licks, and soft bites as he carries me away from the bar.
“Are you sure?” Rocco asks as he sits me down on what I assume is Cain’s desk.
Rather than answering him, I undo the button and zipper on his jeans. My movements are hurried, jerky. I want him—my husband—inside me right the fuck now.
“Answer me, Killer,” he demands.
I look up at him from beneath my long, dark lashes. “I’m sure,” I confirm.
I barely recognize the person I’ve become as I shove his jeans and boxers down his muscular legs. The lust pulsating inside me stirs my action, and all I can think about is the way it feels when he moves inside me.
Letting go of me, Rocco pulls his shirt over his head, and kicks his shoes and socks off. I lick my lips expectantly as he stands in front of me, completely naked.
Damn, this man is as sculpted as they come. His cheekbones could cut diamonds, and his muscles call to me in a way I’ve never considered before. But I want to touch them, lick them, make sure I’ve tasted every inch of his skin.
“Stop looking at me like that, Killer,” he rasps.
I frown. “Like what?”
He chuckles and holds his hand out for me to take, which I do. I let him pull me off the table and to my feet, and as soon as I’m standing, he rids me of my crop-top and bra.
“Like you want to devour me,” he smirks. Then he palms my tits and pinches my nipples. “Like you want to own every part of me.”
My mom’s training kicks in, and I immediately avert my gaze. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to.”
Rocco’s growl makes me flinch, and for the first time, I feel scared of him. My eyes widen and my breath comes out in pants as he bends until his face is right in front of mine.
“Rocco—”
“Don’t,” he says. The velvet smooth tone is such a stark contrast to the anger marring his face. “Ever fucking apologize for looking at me like that.”
“But I—”
He cups my face, bringing our faces so close his breath fans across my lips. “Do you know what it does to me when you look at me like that?”
I shake my head.
“It brings me to my fucking knees, Killer. It’s humbling to have a woman like you look at me like I’m a treat you can’t wait to fucking dig your teeth into.”
Looking into his dark eyes, I relax. I can’t explain what it is about Rocco, but he has the power to bring me to my knees as well. With him, I don’t feel ruined, or like the monster I really am. He makes me feel treasured and wanted.
Rocco has shown me a side of life I never even knew existed, one I’m wanting more of. It’s still unbelievable to me that I’m feeling like this, and I’m not sure I know what it means. But maybe I don’t need to. Perhaps I just need to accept it, and ride the wave for as long as possible.
“You do that to me, too,” I admit softly. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”
To my surprise, Rocco lets out a booming laugh. “I’m not patient, Killer. I’m selfish.”
“Selfish?” I ask, confused about his choice of words. “No. You’re generous.”
Rocco moves his hands to my pants, practically tearing them off me along with my thong. Both pool around my feet, and I step out of my stilettos so I can kick the clothes off.
I’m now standing just as naked as Rocco, and despite the blinds not being closed so anyone can look in, I don’t feel ashamed. How can I, when my husband is looking at me with barely contained lust?
“Yes,” Rocco says, his hand cupping my pussy. “I’m very selfish when it comes to you. But I don’t think I care anymore.”
I don’t understand what he’s trying to say, so I ask, “What do you mean?”
He slides a finger through my folds, and I’m surprised I’m already wet. “I want you, hermosa. And I’m not sure I could give you up even if you wanted me to.”
“Why would I want you to?” I ask. “You’re my husband.”
Fuck, I can barely believe my words. How I feel about him now is such a stark contrast to the day I got released from prison.
“Yes I am,” he rasps as he rubs the heel of his hand across my clit. “But do you want me to be? You don’t even know me, or what I do.”
I moan when he slowly pushes a finger inside me, and before I know it, my hips gyrate to get more of his addictive touch.
Reaching for his cock, I squeeze it just like he’s shown me he likes. I stroke it from tip to base, fascinated by the wetness that glistens at the engorged head. Without thinking, I run my finger through it and bring it to my mouth.
“Fuck. Cara,” Rocco growls as my tongue darts out and I lick my digit clean.
“What is that?” I ask as my eyes flutter closed and I savor the taste.
Rocco chuckles. “It’s called pre-cum.”
Right.
Now I feel stupid for not realizing that. This is the effect Rocco, and a fucked up upbringing, have on me. It reduces me to an unthinking, insecure mess.
I’m surprised that the flavor doesn’t repulse me. My sister’s told me horror stories of having to drink cum from a jar, so if this is that, it’s not bad. A bit salty, but I don’t mind it at all.
“You taste good,” I purr. Then I let the tip of my tongue dance around my finger pad again, greedily licking it completely clean. “Really good.”
“Cara.”
I like the way he growls my name.
“Get your ass on the desk. Now.”
Pouting, I let go of his cock. “You didn’t say please,” I remind him with a wink.
I yelp when he playfully slaps my ass with a growl. “And I’m not going to.”
This is a completely different side of Rocco, one I haven’t seen before. The other times we’ve had sex, he’s made sure to ask if he could touch me. While I appreciated that, I think I like this side of him. The one that doesn’t ask permission, but tells me what he wants.
As I climb onto the desk, I have a moment of hesitancy since I don’t know how he wants me. I ignore the part of me that wants to ask him and instead do what I want, which is sit on the edge with my legs spread wide.
Remembering how he taught me to touch myself, I slowly circle my clit. Now that he’s done it to me countless times, I have a better idea of what I like, which makes it easier. It’s not the same as having him touch me, though.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” I sass.
“Tempting,” he rasps, fisting his cock. “Your cunt is so fucking pretty. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of looking at it.”
I moan. “What if I want you to come over here and touch me instead?”
Rocco arches a brow. “Is that what you want?”
I don’t answer him right away. The way he fucks his hand is mesmerizing, and I can’t get enough of watching him as he unashamedly jerks off for my viewing pleasure. And what a pleasure it is.
“Yes,” I whimper.
Rocco squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his free hand. “Tell me, Killer.”
“I-I…” My eyes turn heavenward as I struggle to get the words out. “I want you to touch me. Please touch me, Rocco.”
“Where?”
Gulping, I spread my legs wider. My finger is still on my clit, though I’m not moving it anymore. “Here.”
Rocco chuckles and looks at me. Shit, the lust in his eyes is almost too much.
“Not good enough, Killer. I want to hear you say what you want. Or better yet, demand it.”
I clear my throat and swallow thickly. “I want you to touch my p-pussy. Use your finger to rub my clit while you fuck me with your cock.”
Fuck me, I didn’t know if I’d be able to get the words out. But there they are, hanging between us. I said it, despite my voice wavering.
“Fuck!” Rocco growls. Then he closes the distance between us. “Do you still not care if people can see us?”
I bite down on my bottom lip and shake my head. “Not at all.”
Until her marriage, my sister didn’t have sex behind closed doors so it’s never been an expectation for me. And that aside, I want the horny Diamonds—especially Mindy—to see me please Rocco. They need to know once and for all that he’s taken.
“Are you wet enough for me?” Rocco asks as he steps between my spread legs, and I nod. “I’m trusting you, Killer. Remember, it’ll hurt us both if you’re not.”
Yeah, I don’t need a reminder.
“I’m wet for you,” I whisper.
Rocco growls. “Good. I’m going to fuck you now.” I pant as he lines the head of his cock against my entrance. “Hold on to my arms, Killer.”
I place my hands on his arms at the same time as he moves his to my hips, and when he roughly thrusts into me, I dig my nails into his skin for better leverage.
“Rocco,” I cry out as he pounds into me. “It feels so good.”
My tits jiggle with the force from Rocco’s fucking, and my pussy clenches around him as my orgasm builds.
“Cara,” Rocco growls, and my name sounds absolutely sinful on his lips.
Rocco bends, fusing his lips to mine. My eyes flutter closed as his tongue slides into my mouth, and I can’t help grazing the organ with my teeth, which elicits a rumble from him.
I break the kiss and look up into his eyes. “Touch my tits,” I demand, feeling brazen.
He stills between my legs, and I’m just about to ask if what I did was wrong. But then he rasps, “Lean back on your arms.”
Once again, I do as he says. Moving my arms behind me so I can rest on them as I lower myself. “Like this?” I question.
Rocco groans in approval. “Just like that, Killer.”
As he thrusts into me again, he captures my nipple between his teeth while palming both my tits. I cry out, and I think I call his name as pleasure shoots through my veins.
“Don’t stop,” I moan.
My cunt squeezes his cock so tight I know I’m hovering on the precipice, ready to fall with the next few thrusts.
Rocco picks up his pace, slamming into me so hard the desk moves with each piston of his hips. I wrap my legs around him, and push my heels into his hard ass in an attempt to get him deeper inside me.
Just as my orgasm crests, I sense eyes on me, and I look toward the window. On the other side of the glass is Mindy, the home wrecking bitch who tried to tell me I wasn’t enough for Rocco. If I wasn’t in the middle of the ultimate pleasure, I’d flip her off. But instead, I shoot her a shit-eating grin.
Take that, bitch!
My nipple falls from Rocco’s mouth with a pop. “Fuck. Killer. I’m going to… I—” Rocco’s words turn into a guttural groan as he slams into me once more.
I feel him spilling his hot seed into my pussy, that’s still holding him in a vise.
“That’s it, mi rey,” I moan.
Feeling too boneless to hold myself up any longer I move my hands to his broad shoulders as I lie all the way down on the desk. Slowly, I slide my hands around his neck and pull him toward me.
“What does mi rey mean?” he asks as soon as both our breathing has returned to normal.
I try to hide my laughter. “That’s for me to know and you to dot dot dot,” I say.
“One of these days,” he says, but he doesn’t complete the sentence.
Even though I want to ask, I don’t. I already know he won’t answer me until I tell him what I just called him. My king. That’s what Rocco King is. Mine.
Rocco stands and pulls me up with him. He hands me my discarded clothes, and we get dressed together in silence. It’s not awkward, it’s actually nice that we can be together without feeling a need to talk non-stop.
When we’re both dressed, Rocco hovers near the door, and I get the feeling he’s struggling to say whatever’s on his mind.
“What is it?” I ask, deciding to help him along.
“I need to ask you a favor.”
Exhaling slowly, I say, “Okay.”
“Me and Gunner have some shit to do today, but I don’t want to take Gray with us. He’s in a bad fucking mood and needs to get out of his own head.”
“And he needs a fucking haircut,” I mumble like that’s important right now.
Rocco chuckles. “He does. But he doesn’t have his parents, and he’s… well—”
“Gray needs help,” I finish for him. “Okay, I’ll help him.”
The gratitude I expect doesn’t come. Instead, Rocco furrows his brows. “Yes, but I just need you to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t start a fight or something.”
“Sure,” I agree.
I already know there’s more to the story than what I’ve just been told. But I’m not going to ask Rocco to betray Gray’s trust. Plus, I know a little about what it’s like to be your own worst enemy. And if my hunch is right, that’s exactly what the homeless looking boy is.