Page 27 of The Taker

I should push myself off him, run back to my apartment, and lock the door behind me. Pack us up and move far away from him before he consumes me whole.

But I ignore the voice in my head and unbuckle his pants instead. His hard length springs out, and my mouth waters as I remember the last time I saw it, how salty and delicious it tasted while he fucked my face with it.

I catch myself licking my lips, and so does Rocco. He grabs my face and captures my lips in a filthy, wet kiss that makes my thighs shake. His tongue explores the space, and I let him. At this moment, I’d let him do almost anything to me.

He pulls away, then extends his open hand to me. “Spit.”

His order has me leaking precum onto his pants. Something about his dark, gravelly voice makes me feral for him. Makes me forget why I’m sitting on his lap in the first place. I spit into hishand, and he wraps it around us, pumping our cocks together in torturously slow movements.

I try to thrust into him to pick up the pace, but his other hand holds my hip, keeping me in place. His smug smirk is one of victory. He’s doing this to me on purpose as a punishment.

“You want more, toy? You want me to play with you?” he coos condescendingly.

Shocks of pleasure radiate up my spine as he swipes his thumb over the tip, then drags his hand all the way to the base. I need more, even though I know no matter what I do, Rocco Vettore won’t yield or bend—he does what he wants, when he wants.

“Yes, Sir, yes. Yes, please, more,” I pant as he rolls my balls in his hand, hard enough that it’s just on the acceptable side of painful. Holy fuck, that feels so good.

“Shhh, be quiet, or my guard will come back,” he whispers before spitting into his own hand.

He works me over faster this time, bringing me to the edge so fast I don’t see it coming. I fall forward, groaning into his ear, babbling nonsense because it feels so fucking good to have his hand on me.

“You greedy little toy,” he says in a dark, playful voice. “You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck, yes,” I chant because my self control left the building already, and I swear I’ll say anything to keep feeling like this.

He freezes, keeping his hand on us as his dark laughter unfurls around the room. My soul ricochets inside me, begging for a release that may never come.

“I told you to be quiet, toy. What if my guard comes in and sees you? I bet you want him to see you naked and pleading like a needy little whore on my lap.”

His words should hurt, yet they flip a switch inside me, making me melt into a puddle of want and lust. He has me begging for my life, because I’m sure I’ll die if I don’t come soon.

“I’m sorry, Sir, please.Please. Please, don’t leave me like this,” I babble in his ear, silently praying he’ll keep going.

“What a good boy, begging for me.”

He moves slow and hard, building me back up with intention. I leak more with each pass of his hand over us, until the telltale shiver of an orgasm builds in my spine. His breathing gets heavy, and I lick the sweat that trickles down his neck, savoring the salty taste.

“You’re gonna be quiet for me when you come, right lionheart? You’re mine. No one else gets to see you fall apart but me,” he rasps into my ear.

He sinks his teeth right over the bite he left before, and hot, white ropes of my cum explode all over his hand and shirt. I bite the inside of my cheeks to stay silent.

He follows me seconds after, and I slump against him as a wave of fatigue rolls over me. My eyes close, but only for a second. Just until I can get my breathing back to normal again.

My body is warm,covered with something thick and soft. I move my face, but the feeling of chest hair abrading my cheek gives me pause. As I open my eyes, I realize I’m in Rocco’s bed wrapped around him with my face on his chest. He lays on his back, his strong arms cradling me. I move my face again, through something wet… Oh fuck, I even drooled on him in my sleep.

“Do you know you snore, lionheart? It’s soft and sorta cute.” His voice drizzles on me like liquid sex. How can someone so dangerous sound so warm and inviting?

“I’ve never snored a day in my life.” I refuse to admit the truth.

He laughs softly, squeezing me tighter and rolling on top of me, weighing me down with his firm, muscular body. I run my hands up his defined shoulders, down the flowers tattooed on his neck and pectorals, then over his biceps. When he grinds into me, I realize we’re both naked, the same as when we were on his couch.

Wait—what time is it?

“Shit, what time is it?” I turn to grab my phone off the nightstand, except I realize it isn’t there. He ordered me not to bring it, so I left it at home. “Oh my God, what time is it?! I left the girls alone in the apartment!”

“It’s 3:30. You seemed tired, so I let you sleep. They’re fine, your apartment is watched, remember? No one could get in or out without me knowing.” He waves his phone at me, as if to prove none of his guards messaged him.

The memories from last night come rushing back, each one kicking my anger up a notch until I swear my ears are smoking.

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