Chapter Nine
SHAY
Five Days Later
Time moves strangely when you’re waiting on news.
For me, it’s been a waiting game. Biding my time until there’s an opportunity to get away from all of this.
But those thoughts are becoming increasingly harder, the more time I spend with Rocco.
He’s been good to me and continues doing everything he can to give me a good life despite everything going on.
For Rocco, however, this waiting game has been absolute turmoil.
Most days he’s shied away and hidden in the second bedroom.
He emerges at night, with a grief-stricken face and fear in his eyes.
I’ve brought him food that goes uneaten most days.
I’ve tried showing him support, the same way he is for me, but Rocco only recoils further into himself.
Today is no different. After his morning shower, he disappears into his study and shuts the door. When it started, I thought I’d be happy with the time alone. But the brief moments we share together at night, Rocco shows me kindness I’d never expect from anyone, let alone a mafia enforcer.
He holds me, strokes my head, and promises that everything is going to be okay. Those are the words I need to hear, and I want him to feel the same.
I’m standing at his study door, with a plate of food in one hand and a cup of cocoa in the other.
Rocco wasn’t lying when he said I can come and go as I please.
He gave me his credit card and said I could go out and buy whatever I like.
So, I have. I’ve stocked his fridge with more groceries than just chicken and rice.
I added cocoa to the list because I’ve always believed that a well-made cup has magical properties.
It can cure you, even on the worst days.
With the freedom Rocco’s given me, I have considered running. But I won’t abuse his trust again. Not while Emilio’s threats still linger over our heads. For all I know, Emilio has men stationed outside Rocco’s apartment, waiting for me to make a mistake like that.
Both my hands are full, so I knock on his door with my knee. It takes him longer than I expect to answer.
“Come in,” he says.
“I could use a little help.”
Rocco’s chair squeaks as he gets out of it and approaches the door. He swings it open, and his eyes instantly widen.
“I thought you could use a pick me up,” I say.
“You’re… not wearing anything.” His expression goes slack with shock.
A good cup of cocoa can soothe the soul, but orgasms work faster.
I wink at him. “Nothing lifts the spirits more than a pair of tits.”
His eyes scan my body, and the tip of his tongue runs along his lip. I saunter slowly across the room, giving him a view of my behind.
“Shay, you don’t have to do this,” he says.
I reach his desk, and bend over, shoving my ass in the air. Rocco mutters something under his breath as he gets a view of my pussy.
“I know. But what if I really want to?” I ask, looking at him over my shoulder.
“Then I’d be a fool to decline.”
“Then how about you come over here and claim what’s yours?” Where did that come from? I haven’t considered myself his from the night I arrived in this place. Horny me has a funny way of putting things.
Rocco closes the distance between us in two long strides.
I turn around to face him, and our bodies collide in an intense embrace.
Rocco’s hands move across my body freely, grabbing my ass, squeezing my breasts, and caressing my skin.
I do the same, searching every inch of his body with my fingertips.
The thick grooves of his dense abs, the taut skin around his biceps, and of course, his thick cock throbbing against my stomach.
“I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I first set eyes on you,” Rocco groans into my mouth.
You and me both.
“It’s all yours,” I respond. “I’m all yours.”
He mumbles fuck, before slamming me back into his desk. He moves his hands beneath my knees and lifts me up until I’m sitting on the wood. I wrap my legs around his waist and guide his body closer to mine.
Rocco pins his hard length between my legs, and the only thing stopping penetration is his pants.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he repeats the same words he said to me the night his fingers gave me release. He must really mean it, I suppose.
“You’re not half bad yourself,” I say, to lighten the mood.
Rocco chuckles, trailing kisses down my cheek and to my neck.
It tickles at first, but that sensation is quickly replaced by incredible stimulation.
His kisses continue down my collarbone and chest until he reaches my breasts.
His tongue takes over, finding the erect buds of my nipples. He sucks one nipple into his mouth.
“That feels so good,” I moan, whipping my head back. I grab a handful of Rocco’s hair and pull him tighter into the movements.
“It’s only going to get better from here,” Rocco says. He guides me back gently, while he dips lower. A trail of nibbles and kisses moves down my stomach as Rocco dips lower.
He gets down on his knees, throws my legs over his shoulders, and peers up at me from between my legs. He leans forward, presses his tongue against my slit, and lightning strikes in my core.
I whimper and whine, grinding my hips against his face as he eats me out. Fireworks are going off behind my eyes at the overwhelming pleasure his tongue brings. He teases and flicks his tongue over my clit, while his fingers dance ever closer to my opening.
His fingers find their way inside my wetness with ease. Slow and steady, he starts pumping them in and out of me, while he continues stimulating my clit.
“Christ, you taste so good,” he mutters. The heat of his breath sends a shiver up my spine.
The brief pause doesn’t last long before he’s back at it. He returns more vicious, more determined to deliver my pleasure. His fingers thrust in and out of me, while his mouth consumes me whole. His eyes never break from mine, watching as he brings me to my peak.
My body jerks and shudders, and I can’t suppress the noises escaping my mouth. A mix of moans and breathless whimpers escapes me.
“I’m about to come,” I cry out, tightening my grip on his hair.
Rocco grunts, but he doesn’t stop. Not until his face is drenched in my wetness, and it’s running down his chin.
He gets back to his feet and removes his belt. With one hard tug on his waistband, his cock comes free from its confines. The sight of him steals the breath from my lungs. I’m not a virgin, but I can’t even imagine how he’s possibly going to fit.
“You’re so big,” I mutter, inspecting him.
A smirk stretches across his face.
I wrap my hand around his erection and give it a tug. Rocco’s knees buckle at the sudden stimulation. He steadies himself with a hand against the table, and I meet his gaze with a sheepish little grin.
“You’re going to tear me in half,” I say, in the most innocent voice I can muster. It rouses the reaction I was hoping for – blushing cheeks and a goofy smile.
“I’ll be gentle.” Rocco leans forward and presses his lips against mine again. “I promise.”
I guide his cock closer to my pussy with a gentle tug. Rocco doesn’t resist my pull. I slide his head along my pussy, and once more his legs give way. This time, he collapses on top of me, and a light gulp leaves his lips.
“That feels so good.”
“This is going to feel better,” I say, sliding his tip into my entrance.
Rocco jerks back, and groans in pleasure. He clasps my hips and squeezes tightly, as he sinks himself lower. He’s cautious at first, barely moving at all. It’s his way of helping me adjust to his size, I’m sure.
“Am I hurting you?” he asks.
A little, but I shake my head in response.
Where his girth stretches me out, it mostly feels fucking incredible.
I hate to admit how much I’m enjoying this, or how good he feels inside of me.
I’ve never felt anything like this. He’s pumping me full of serotonin and bliss.
He has a direct line to the pleasure center of my brain, and he isn’t letting up.
Rocco moves his hips a little faster, but his thrusts are short. He isn’t rushing into anything, and he wants to stretch out this delight for as long as he can last.
As soon as my body’s accustomed to his size, I rock my hips in time with his.
When Rocco’s secure in the belief that I’m used to all he has on offer, he hoists my ass into the air and starts pulling me into his thrusts. He rams into me with intense thrusts that send my eyes to the back of my head.
Every time he slams into me, a moan catches in the back of my throat. The muscles in his neck flex, and he emits animalistic noises from the sheer sensations brewing inside of him.
The slap of skin fills the room, and I take in every inch of his cock. He alternates between slow, steady thrusts and brutal pounding.
“Ah, fuck,” Rocco shouts, as he slides his girth out of my pussy and shoots ropes of hot seed across my naked body. Beads of sweat drip from his forehead, and he sinks backward onto the bed.
He’s puffing and panting, his golden eyes fixed on me.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he says, reaching a hand behind his neck and laughing nervously.
I stare down at my body, soaked in Rocco’s seed. “I have that effect on men.” I wink at him.
I throw myself off of his desk and collapse on top of Rocco on the floor. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly against his exquisite frame.
We lie in this position for what feels like hours, just him and me in quiet contentment. Neither of us needs to speak, neither of us needs to move… we’re just happy to be holding onto one another.
I rest my head on his chest. I hear the soft thumping of his heart, and it stills any nerves I once had about being around him.
It’s a scary thought. If I wasn’t dead-set on escaping this bullshit servitude, I might’ve considered life with Rocco.
He’s a good man, and he’s been nothing but kind to me.
But I can’t hand myself to him so freely.
I’m meant to be a slave, a gift from parents who never wanted me.
As much as I enjoy this moment, and many of the others he and I have shared, I can’t be his. I can’t give myself over.
His phone rings, distracting both of us from the thoughts pouring through our heads. With a heavy sigh, Rocco helps me off his lap and gets us up. He fetches his phone, which fell on the floor, while we were busy making love, and answers.
“Hello.”
When he gets the response from the other end, he nearly buckles once again.
“Are you sure?”
His head hangs solemnly.
“Thank you for letting me know,” he ends the call.
“Who was that?” I ask, jumping off the floor. Rocco looks as if he’s just seen a ghost, and it makes me nervous.
“An ally within the organization,” he says. “Vincent Lombardi is dead.”
Oh no.