Making the King: A dark forced marriage romance (The Cruz Kings MC)

Chapter Eleven

Like most nights, I’m back in the prison, my sister lying on the floor with her head in my lap.

“It’s okay, Cara,” she whispers, with a smile on her lips. “I’ll be free soon.”

“No,” I cry. “Don’t leave me. Quedate por favor.”

Even though I know she can’t, I beg for her to stay with me.

“No one can keep someone like you down, Cara. Give them hell and then get the fuck out of there. Promise me you’ll find a way to be happy.”

The shiv in my hand clanks as it falls onto the floor. It’s covered in Julietta’s blood, and her body is covered in stab wounds.

Her beautiful eyes are bloodshot, and her breathing is garbled wheezing.

“Forgive me,” I beg. “Please say you forgive me.”

She takes a shuddering breath. “T-there’s nothing to f-forgive.”

Fat tears roll down my cheeks, but I swallow down the sob lodged in my throat. I need to be strong for Julietta.

Using her last strength, Julietta places her hand on top of mine. “I-I f-forgive Mateo, t-too,” she stutters as tremors tear through her. “W-we’ll all m-meet again.”

Her hands fall limp, and despite knowing she’s dead, I shake her and cry out her name. “Julietta!”

I’m ripped from the nightmare so suddenly I feel my head spin.

“Shh,” Rocco coos. “You’re safe, hermosa. Please wake up.”

I blink, and it takes me a moment to realize I’m safely in Rocco’s bed, and not sitting on the dirty, tiled floor from my nightmare. As my eyes get used to the darkness in the bedroom, his concerned face comes into view.

“Rocco?” I gasp his name, not quite able to believe he’s here. “You’re here…”

As he shifts, I realize he’s learned his lesson about waking me up from a nightmare. He isn’t anywhere near my legs. Instead of being behind me like he was when we fell asleep, he’s crouching on the floor, next to my side of the bed.

Can’t say I blame him. I’ve kicked him at least four times, and he’s still carrying the marks to prove it.

“Of course I’m here,” he rasps. “I’ll always be here.”

His words cause sobs to tear through me, and I’m unable to stop them. I drag my knees up, curling in on myself as I cry into the pillow.

It’s been almost a week since he told me what he suffered when he lived on the street, and the condemning words broke something inside me. Opened the floodgates, and I don’t know how to stop them. Every night it’s the same nightmare, and every night he wakes me. Then comes the uncontrollable sobbing.

“Fuck. Tell me how I can help you,” Rocco pleads.

It cuts me to hear him sounding so helpless, but I don’t think there’s anything he can do. My tears aren’t just for me and Julietta, they’re for him as well. For what he went through, and the shame I saw in his eyes when he told me his secret.

And… and if I’m being completely honest, they’re also for Mateo. Once upon a time, my twin was my best friend. We shared a womb together, entered this world together, and learned to walk together. When one of us fell down, the other was always there to help. Just because life later dealt us completely opposite hands doesn’t mean he isn’t hurting, too.

In fact, I know he is. The look in his eyes when he pressed all those cigarettes to my skin was half the reason I stopped fighting and screaming. It broke something in him, and I felt the snap reverberating in my soul.

“Say something,” Rocco urges, gently moving strands of hair from my face. “Anything. Scream at me. Or better yet, take your pain out on me. I can take it, Cara. But I can’t stand seeing you like this.” His voice takes on a gravelly quality, and I know he’s feeling my hurt like it’s his own.

“I-I don’t know how to s-stop,” I hiccup.

The mattress dips as he climbs in behind me, spooning me until I’m no longer shaking with pent-up emotions. He continues to hold me, pressing his lips to my shoulder until I’m able to breathe normally again.

“You were dreaming about your sister again,” he says. It’s not a question which means I must have called out her name.

“Not a dream,” I mutter. “Always a nightmare.”

Rocco remains silent, and I know why. He wants to know what it was about, but he doesn’t want to ask me. Just like I didn’t want to ask him what happened before he lived on the street. I did it anyway, though. Pushed for answers I had no right to.

“You said she was killed in jail by a monster. Was it an inmate?”

I nod.

“Someone she had issues with?”

This time I shake my head. While I was feared and maybe begrudgingly respected, Julietta was actually liked. Despite the different cliques, people showed her kindness and never bothered her. That’s the kind of person she was. Somehow, she always brought the best out in the people around her.

“No,” I croak. “In fact, she loved her killer very much.”

I feel the exact moment Rocco figures the truth out for himself. His hold on me tightens as he rasps, “Fucking hell. No wonder you’re trapped in that nightmare. Why did you do it?”

Fighting more tears I squeeze my eyes shut. “It was my gift to her. Julietta’s spirit was slowly dying. She’d been through so much… and… and…” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “The fucker she was married to broke her, and she wanted to die. But she asked me to do it.”

Rocco exhales audibly, but remains quiet.

“At first I said no, but then I realized that was selfish of me. She wasn’t happy, and I don’t think she could ever find happiness again.”

“Why didn’t she do it herself?” As soon as he’s asked the question, Rocco curses. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

I place my hand on top of his to let him know I understand. “Even though I already knew the answer, I asked her the same thing. Julietta was religious and believed that she couldn’t get into heaven if she committed suicide.”

My hand closes around the cross dangling from my necklace. It makes me feel closer to her when I touch it, like I can almost imagine hearing her voice.

“One of the women agreed to help me, and she fashioned a shiv. Two stood guard as Julietta and I went into the… the…”

“You don’t have to say it.”

Ignoring Rocco, I finish. “Shower.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I locked you in the bathroom. I literally fucking locked you in your worst nightmare.”

The irony that we’ve both made the other suffer their personal nightmare isn’t lost on me. Yeah, Rocco locked me in the bathroom, but I also took his choice from him and lost my virginity on his cock without his input.

Yet, we’re still here. Still together, and I like the change he’s brought out in me. Through his actions, he’s showing me a life I never even dared to dream of—one where I matter and have a voice.

“And I took something from you,” I remind him as shame burns through me.

Fuck. I still can’t believe I did that.

Okay, the thing I’m having the hardest time coming to terms with is that I don’t fully regret it. Because that was the moment things changed between us, which has brought us here. To the moment where I realize I need Rocco’s help.

“Rocco,” I say, turning in his hold so we’re face-to-face. “Will you help with something?” Nerves make my voice sound formal like I’m about to pitch a business proposal rather than ask him to try something with me.

“Of course, Killer,” he replies immediately. “Name it.”

The eagerness in his tone makes my heart skip a beat and my breath hitches. “Rocco.”

Unable to express the way he makes me feel, I slant my lips to his. His surprised intake of air spurs me on, and I deepen the kiss as I hoist my leg around his hip and move us so he’s on his back and I straddle him.

Rocco’s hands immediately seek out my ass, and he isn’t gentle in the way he squeezes the globes. “Fuck. Cara,” he rasps into my mouth.

As I feel him harden between us, I rock my hips, seeking friction on my clit. My thong and his boxers do nothing to diminish the feel of his cock rubbing against my bundle of nerves.

“Is this what you need help with?” he chuckles when we come up for air.

The words I want to speak stay lodged in my throat, so I whimper and reclaim his lips. Our tongues battle, teeth clashing, and I fucking love every second of it.

Rocco wraps my long hair around his fist and eases my head back. I growl, annoyed he’s putting a stop to our kissing.

“Answer me,” he demands in a harsh tone.

Shaking my head, I say, “No.” Then I lick my lips and take a shuddering breath. “There’s something I want to try. But I… I can’t do it alone.”

His gaze softens. “Anything.”

As I look into his dark eyes, I find that I don’t just believe him. In my heart I know he’s the only one who can help me—the only one I trust and want to help me.

“I want to have another bath,” I admit. A shudder runs through me at the mere thought of going back into the tiled bathroom, but I have to try. “Will you come with me?”

To his credit, Rocco doesn’t ask any questions. He simply rolls out of bed and goes to fill the bathtub.

My legs feel like lead as I slowly place one foot in front of the other. The small walk to the bathroom feels like miles rather than feet, and when I reach the door, my legs are shaking so badly I can barely stand up.

Leaning against the door frame, I force one foot onto the tiled floor. The towels are still there, but I swear I can feel the tiles beneath them. Rocco looks at me over his shoulder. His brows are furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line, but he doesn’t try to stop me.

Okay, I can do this.

That’s what I’m telling myself as I tentatively move my foot further into the dreaded room. The other is still on the threshold and for some reason it makes me feel better to know I literally have a foot in each room.

“You can do it, hermosa,” Rocco rasps.

I’m not sure I can.

Yes, I must.

No, I can’t.

“I-I…” I bite down on my bottom lip as I trail off.

Tilting my head to the side I try to guestimate the distance between us. It’s not as much as my mind keeps telling me, that much I know. Two or three strides, that’s it. I can do it.

With a yelp, I kick off the floor and very awkwardly spread my legs as much as possible to make my steps as big as possible.

“One more, Killer,” Rocco encourages me.

I look into his dark eyes, and the moment our gazes lock, I no longer feel the tiles under my feet. Instead, I feel the fire in his orbs lick across my skin, making it feel like my body is aflame.

“Rocco,” I half-sob as I close the distance between us and jump into his arms.

Not fully ready for me, he stumbles back, and before I know it, we fall into the tub, sloshing the warm water everywhere.

“Oh my God.” My voice is caught somewhere between a cry and laughter.

“A little warning next time,” Rocco laughs.

Rather than making empty promises, I press my lips to his. It starts out as a slow, close-mouthed kiss, much like the one we shared on our wedding day. Though, this time I welcome it, and I’m intimately familiar with the feeling he stirs in my chest.

“Why aren’t I naked yet?” I huff as I pull back.

Rocco quickly rips the shirt from my body. His movements make the fabric tear, and I fucking love that he’s as eager for me as I am for him.

Impatiently, I snake my hand into the slit in his boxers, and fist his length. His breath hitches as I apply more pressure than usual, but from the way his eyes roll back in his head I’m not worried.

“Fucking hell, Killer,” he growls, the sound tinted with lust.

“I’m still not naked,” I gripe.

He nips my bottom lip, continuing to kiss across my cheek to my neck, licking and nipping the skin all the way down to my shoulder. His hands find my heavy tits, squeezing them to the point it hurts. But fuck, it hurts so good.

“Rocco,” I moan.

“Patience,” he rasps.

I shake my head. “No. Make me feel good. I… oh!” Throwing my head back, I moan as he pinches and rolls my nipples between his thumb and index finger.

Rocco moves his hand between my legs and cups my pussy. “Stand up,” he rasps.

Untangling myself from him proves harder than I first thought. We landed sideways in the tub, so we’re neither sitting nor standing, but caught somewhere in between.

While giggling in an almost crazed way, I shakily stand up. Rocco is quick to slide my thong down my legs, kissing my thighs as he goes. Once I’ve stepped out of my underwear and he’s flung them to the side, he gets up as well.

Though the tub isn’t small, it feels it as we’re both standing here.

I frown when Rocco slides his hands under the waistband of his boxers. “I want to do it,” I say resolutely, slapping his hands away.

“Have at it,” he says, unleashing a devilish smirk.

After lowering myself to my knees, I tug at his black boxers. I moan with anticipation and lick my lips as his cock springs free, almost slapping me on the cheek.

Can a cock be beautiful? If so, Rocco’s should win best in show. It’s long, thick, and the red head glistens in the light. Probably a mix of the bathwater and pre-cum.

“See something you like?” Rocco rasps.

I nod. “Yes,” I say, wrapping my hand around the base. “Can I kiss it?”

The primal growl coming from deep in his throat is all the answer I need. I press my lips to the smooth head. Unsure exactly what to do, I move my hand up and down his length a few times. Then I lick the head, spearing the tip of my tongue into the slit.

“Fuck, Killer,” he groans. “Just like that.”

Since Rocco’s the only guy I’ve ever been with, I’ve never done this before. Courtesy of my mom, I technically know what to do. Hers isn’t the voice I want in my head though, so I peer up at Rocco through my lashes.

“Tell me what to do,” I implore.

Rocco swallows thickly, and I stare transfixed at his Adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. “Wrap your lips around the head,” he says, his tone gravelly with lust. “Move your hand up and down and suck.”

Doing as he says, I hollow my cheeks, creating suction while I move my hand up and down the shaft. Rocco’s raw sounds spur me on, and I let them guide me into finding a rhythm he likes.

Feeling bolder, I move my hands to his ass. I dig my nails in as I take him deeper into my mouth. He stiffens for a moment, and his breathing turns shallow as I part his cheeks.

“Cara,” he groans, and it almost sounds like he’s in pain.

Shit, I didn’t mean to do that. It just… happened.

I let go and pull back, scared I’ve crossed a line. “I’m sorry,” I rush out. “I didn’t mean to, and… I’m so sorry.”

Leaning down, he cups my jaw, shaking his head. “Do it again,” he demands.

I take him back into my mouth and move my hands to his ass again.

“Just like before,” he rasps, and I part his cheeks again as I slowly work him further into my mouth.

Rocco’s length is no joke, and I can safely say I now know why it’s called a blowjob—emphasis on the job.

I look up at him, and I hate the anguish on his face. His eyes are squeezed shut. Wanting to make him feel better, I take him all the way to the back of my throat. I don’t pull back until my eyes water and I gag around his dick.

A tremor runs through him, but he still doesn’t ask me to remove my hands. Though he hasn’t specifically said it, I feel like I know what he wants—maybe even needs. With him, I’ve faced my fears, and I think that’s what he needs right now.

As I gag around him again, I slide my hand into the crevice of his ass, making sure the tips of my fingers graze his opening.

“Cara,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

I pause, waiting to see if he’s going to tell me to stop. But he doesn’t. He gives me a barely perceptible nod, and I take that as permission to do what I think he needs.

My eyes won’t leave his face. I’m desperate to capture the look of pain and pleasure flickering across his features as I press a wet finger against his opening. He shudders, but instead of pulling away, he pushes back against me.

Seeing him like this, so tense, and clearly caught in a dark place in his mind is damn near breaking my heart. I don’t know if I should stop or continue, only that I can’t stand the look on his face.

I pull back until his cock falls from my mouth. “Rocco,” I sob, and he finally opens his eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His breath saws out of him, and the look he gives me can only be described as lost. “I don’t know,” he admits.

I know it’s taking a lot for him to be this vulnerable, just like it does for me. But when I’ve been in his position, he’s been the strong one. Guiding me through it until I got to a place where I felt better. I decide that’s exactly what I’m going to do for him.

Needing him to relax, I fist his cock, slowly moving my hand up and down as I cup his balls and gently massage them. When I don’t go anywhere near his ass, he finally relaxes. Even moans as I stroke his length.

I take him back inside my mouth. With a better idea of what he likes, I swirl my tongue around the head and use my thumb to add pressure to the angry vein on the side of his shaft.

“Fuck. Killer. Fuck.” His groans are like music to my ears, and I eagerly keep up the momentum.

I slowly move my hands up his thighs, grazing his skin with my nails. I move all the way up to his toned stomach, where I dig my nails into his skin for good measure.

“Cara,” he warns, but it’s a warning I don’t want to heed.

I want Rocco to lose control instead of being this closed off.

“Give it to me,” I moan around his cock.

“What?” he rasps.

I wrap one hand around the base, moving it up and down as fast as I can. “Let go,” I murmur. “Let it all fucking go and give it to me.”

With a sharp nod, he groans, which I know is his way of answering. He’s going to do it, or at the very least, try. That’s more than I expected, and it makes me feel special.

“Do you want me to try?” I ask, needing his confirmation.

He nods again.

“Okay,” I murmur.

I want to do this. Not just for Rocco, but also for me. I don’t like that there’s a side of him that isn’t mine. I know it makes no sense, and that’s okay. It doesn’t need to be understood for me to act on it.

Rocco’s gaze is burning against my skin, and his shallow breathing is almost like music. But his cock is still hard, telling me he wants this.

I lick my lips and look up at him. “Okay,” I repeat, my voice more steadfast this time. “I promise to make it feel good for you.”

His gaze softens a little. “I know you will,” he rasps. “I trust you.”

Rocco wordlessly hands me a bottle of body oil that he grabs from the shelf next to the bath. Done with taking it slow, I squirt some more of the oil into my hand and rub it so it coats all my fingers. Then I take him back into my mouth, alternating between creating suction and licking down the length. Meanwhile, I move my hands back to his ass, and press a slick finger against his puckered hole.

“Fuck!”

This time it isn’t pain edged into his features, but pure, barely contained lust.

“Keep going,” he rasps, and I do.

I press my finger against the opening until the tip slides inside. When I gag on his cock at the same time, he tangles his fingers into my hair, something it must have taken all his self-control not to do until now.

Tightening his grip on my strands, he begins to fuck my mouth while I slowly slide my finger further into his ass.

“Killer,” he growls. “That feels so fucking good.”

The admission causes my pussy to throb, and even though this is about him, I wish he was touching me.

I time the thrusts of my finger with his fucking my mouth, and it doesn’t take long before he growls out my name and forces his cock all the way to the back of my throat. As I curl the finger in his ass, he lets out a groaned string of curses and throws his head back.

“Yes. Fuck. Cara… so fucking good…” With a throaty groan, he pulls out of my mouth. “But I want to shoot my load deep inside your cunt.”

The promise of what’s to come has me moaning as I ease my finger out of him.

As I try to stand, Rocco grabs my arm and hauls me up against him. Without a word, he claims my lips. His tongue slides into my mouth, warring with mine.

I’m painfully aware of his hard cock between us, so I shimmy a little, trying to get it angled against my pussy.

Rocco chuckles. “Do you want something, Killer?” he taunts. “Because if you want something, you have to ask for it.”

He spins me around so my back is against his chest. I feel his dick nudging against my drenched opening, and I push back against him, but he retreats with a tisk.

“Fuck me,” I hiss. Rocco brings his thumb to my clit, circling the needy bud until I’m panting with need. “Please.”

“Anything for you,” he rasps.

He pushes the tip inside my opening, but instead of slamming all the way inside me, he eases his way. It’s infuriatingly slow, and I’m quickly losing patience.

“Fucking do it already,” I gripe. “I need you inside me, mi rey.”

The endearment which is the same as his last name falls from my lips before I can stop it, but when he finally sheathes himself inside me I’m glad I didn’t.

Rocco withdraws almost completely before slamming all the way inside me, fucking me hard while his hands are on my hips in a bruising hold. It’s so delicious my eyes flutter closed as pleasure unfurls inside me.

Remembering why we’re out here, I force my eyes open, and deliberately look at the tiled floor. Nope, can’t do it. I clench my teeth together as my legs begin to shake. It’s not from pleasure, but fear.

Is this how Rocco felt when I pushed my finger against his ass? If so, he’s a lot stronger than I am, because I’m ready to beg him to carry me out of here.

“Come back to me,” Rocco rasps as he moves his hands from my hips to my tits. “Focus on my cock inside you. Can you feel it stretching you?”

I moan. “Yes.”

“And feel the way I’m hitting your G-spot?”

How the hell does he know?

“M-maybe… I think so.”

Without warning, Rocco pulls me back up and spins me around so we’re chest to chest. My nipples rub against his chest with every inhale, and the coarse hair creates a delectable friction.

“Look at me, Killer,” he demands on a rasp. “We took care of my trauma, so look at me while I fuck yours out of you.”

I want to retort that I don’t think it’s that simple, but I press my lips into a thin line instead.

“Hold on to my shoulders.”

My hands are barely clasped around the muscles before he hoists my leg up, and angles his cock against my drenched opening.

“Eyes on me,” he implores.

His eyes are darker than normal, lust making them almost clouded. I feel as though his irises are seeing beyond the flesh and bone, seeing my soul.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he groans as he thrusts into me. “Keep looking at me.”

Every time he pistons his hips it becomes increasingly harder to keep my gaze on him, but I refuse to budge. Even as my orgasm builds, I don’t waver. But as I come around him, my pussy squeezing his dick like a vise, my eyes flutter closed.

Rocco pounds into me once, twice, and on the third thrust he roars his release.

I sag against him, feeling beyond spent. Yawning, I move my arms around his neck and kiss him above his heart.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

“What for?”

I’m not sure I can put it into words, so I just say, “Everything.” I take a deep breath, loving the way his smell lingers in my nostrils. “For trusting me. For helping me, and… just for everything.”

How the hell can I ever thank him for everything he’s done for me? It’s too much to put into words. The Rocco I’m getting to know is the most amazing guy, one I could maybe see myself being married to for longer than I have to be.

We rinse off in the shower, and I watch regretfully as the bathwater disappears down the drain. I did actually want a bath, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. I’m too tired now.

Afterward, Rocco wraps one of his beach towels around me while placing two on the tiled floor. It’s such a small gesture, yet it speaks volumes.

As we get into bed, I wonder if the Rocco I know is the same man everyone else sees. Somehow I doubt that they know how he looks when he’s vulnerable, or how much he actually allows me to get away with.

Though I can’t claim to know much about the guy the others know, I’ve heard enough to know they respect him, and some even fear him. As I drift off to sleep in his arms, my brain struggles to connect the two. My Rocco, and the world’s Rocco are two very different people.

A smile plays on my lips at the thought that I have a version that’s just mine, because I think the same can be said about me. Despite fighting him as much as I do, I’ve also opened up about things I thought I’d take with me to the grave.