CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #2
“That’s not what happened,” I hissed between clenched teeth.
“Oh, it is.” His hand slid up my hips. “Dance dirty for me again without the audience. I’ll even fuck you while you’re mad.
You don’t care how you’re used, as long as you get fucked.
Right?” His tone was coarse and full of sarcasm, but what he said wasn’t a lie.
I wanted to show him what he had, that I was sexy and desirable. I’m so stupid.
He moved his hands over my ass. “You look innocent, but you’re the opposite. Greedy. I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I? Say it.”
“Just leave me alone,” I whispered, the words brittle and false even as I spoke them.
A jagged ache curled in my chest, exposing my lie.
Part of me craved distance, to let my shame fester in peace, but another part, louder and desperate, yearned for him to throw me on the bed and fuck me.
The war inside me left me aching, silently pleading for him to hear the fear beneath my words and hold on tighter.
“We both know you don’t want me to.” He moved even closer, and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt pressing against me, the sharp, spicy ginger of his scent.
But it wasn’t only his body that I needed.
It was his attention and care that I couldn’t live without.
I obsessed over it. He had ruined me. Hell, he’d undone me completely.
But none of it mattered if he couldn’t get past what I’d done.
“What do I have to do for you to forgive me?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“Nothing…”
He kept talking, but his words faded into static. I shoved at his chest, wriggling free as he released me. Fleeing to the bathroom, I slammed the door behind me and locked it. My back pressed hard against it as I gasped for air between ragged sobs. I can do nothing. He’ll never forgive me.
Bang. Bang. Bang. The door pounded, and Rocco shouted, “Adelina. Did you hear me? Open this damn door now.”
I didn’t. I went to the shower and turned it on, stepping beneath the spray and praying it would wash away the sting of his rejection.
Scalding water hit against my skin, stinging each shoulder and slicing rivulets down my arms. It mingled with the tears on my cheeks, tracing paths through the smudged makeup flowing on my hands.
The leather dress clung to me, its once-sleek material now heavy and tacky, waterlogged and pressing coldly against my ribs.
I slid the straps off, trembling as the soaked fabric peeled away, every motion slow and raw, baring the sensitive gooseflesh of my skin.
I curled into myself, hugging my knees and pressing my forehead against them, eyes clamped shut.
My breath steamed the air. Emptiness cooled everything inside me.
I love him more than anything, and now he hates me.
My hands shook as I peeled off the last of the dress, fingers slipping on the wet, stubborn leather.
Click. The sound of the door opening startled me, but I didn’t look up. I stayed there.
“Bella!” Rocco bellowed, his tone alarmed.
He came over to the shower and climbed inside, still dressed, and bent over me.
His hands went around me and lifted me up, carrying me out of the tub and onto the floor.
There he crouched next to me and removed the rest of my dress and thong.
I peered at him through my lashes, shivering.
His expression was no longer annoyance but remorse and sadness.
I dipped my head. “I’m sorry, Rocco. I can’t say it enough. ”
“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was upset, but you left before I could explain.”
I hung my head and didn’t answer, but I could feel the pounding of my heart against my ribs.
“You missed what I tried to tell you. I said nothing can be undone, and even though what happened between us changed things, it didn’t change anything about the way I feel for you. Nothing could ever stop my love for you.”
Rocco removed his damp clothes, then lifted me by the waist and placed me on his lap, and I instinctively straddled him, placing my legs around him and ending any distance between us. A calm silence fell as he cradled me in his arms, and I felt at home.
“My Bella,” he whispered. His hand traced gentle circles on my back, and his lips pressed two quick kisses to my shoulder before he tucked my head beneath his chin and drew me in.
He stayed there, holding me with a quiet confidence, pouring into me the warmth and affection I yearned for.
My body responded to his closeness and touch, but I stayed quiet and took what he was ready to give, praying that what hung between us would heal.
He slowly let me go and reached for his trousers, pulling out a condom of his own.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to…to force you. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
He rubbed my back and kissed my forehead. “You’re not forcing me. I love you.” That’s not how I want to experience love . . .experiencing distance and rejection. Judge Colby’s version of “love” had been violent and cruel.
But again, I couldn’t verbalize my fear that Rocco would abuse his power over me as well. I hugged him tight instead and he held me, whispering love into my ears, pouring his love into my skin.
When I calmed he put me down next to him and picked up the condom. I watched as he pinched the top and rolled it down over his erection. It looked thin but too tight on his cock.
“Does it hurt?”
He grinned. “No. It’s fine.”
His hands slid slowly up my arm to my neck, his fingers tracing gentle lines along my skin.
I shivered, my breath hitching beneath his touch.
I lifted my eyes to his face. Our gazes locked: his filled with certainty and mine filled with searching.
For a moment, words hung unspoken between us. Tension pressed against my ribs.
Finally, I whispered, “Are you sure?” Even in this closeness, I needed to be sure, needed to give him the space to choose.
Rocco held my gaze, his voice steady and clear. “I want you. I always want you, Bella.”
He reached back, arms taut, and I straddled him again, then sank down on his hard erection. A tremor started at the base of my spine, spreading as I took him in, inch by inch.
“Christ,” he groaned, his body tensing, his need pulsing and growing. My body clenched around him, a moan escaping me, the need too intense to hold back.
I leaned in, capturing his lips with mine. His mouth opened, drawing my tongue in, while my body tightened around him. He moaned, our tongues tangling as waves of pleasure surged between us.
My body rose and sank in a slow rhythm, each movement igniting sensations and pleasures so intense that they overwhelmed my senses.
I panted, the cries out of my lips incoherent.
Rocco was right there with me. He groaned between fast breaths.
His hands claimed my hips, guiding us forward with urgent intent as I bounce on his cock, moving at a heated speed, my fingers gripping his shoulders as I call out his name. “Ohhh, yes. Fuck me hard.”
“God, you’re on fire,” he growled, his sweat slicking the top of our thighs.
“Ohh,” I climaxed, my pussy holding his cock as it thumped deep inside of me.
His fingers dug into my skin as he followed me. “You’re mine,” he shouted, and I clung to him, absorbing his shudder as he came hard, vibrating against me. You’re all mine, too, Rocco.
When we calmed, he didn’t let me go.
And I was in his arms again, where I wanted to stay.