Page 40 of The Taker

“You belong next to me.” I run my hands through his hair and tilt his head, kissing his lips. “Fucking deal with it.”

13

LEO

The feeling of a smooth hand stroking me rouses me from the no man’s land between sleep and wakefulness. Warm lips trail up my neck, licking over his ever-present bite mark. Rocco moves slowly, using firm pressure. He swipes his thumb over my tip, smearing my precum down my shaft. It’s such a simple act, but it’s the perfect way to wake up.

“Good morning,” he rasps in my ear.

The memory of how his eyes lit up with awe when I sliced the flesh right off that fucker’s fingers Friday night sends pure liquid heat through me. We’ve been fucking like rabbits every night, and waking up in some variation of this all weekend.

I thought he’d slow down since it’s Monday.Thank fuck he didn’t.

“Rocco,” I whimper, pushing into his fist, silently begging him to go faster.

“You want more?” he asks, his voice smug.

“Yes, please. Please make me come, I need it,” I cry, desperate for more.

He knows I do. He knows I’ll always want more, because I’m so far past the point of caring about how wrong this is. Past theshame that clouded my consciousness. I don’t care who he is anymore, or how dangerous and fast this pull between us is.

I’m addicted to it. To him. To how he makes me feel. For better or worse.

He burrows his other arm underneath me, pinching my nipples hard, back and forth until they’re hard. Then he clamps one between his finger and thumb so rigorously that I almost split my own lip in half biting back the sound of my own screams.

The pain is exactly what I need to finish. Most of it splatters on the sheets, but Rocco lifts his hand to my face, slowly bringing it over me to his mouth. I roll over in time to watch him put his come soaked fingers into his mouth and groan.

His eyes roll into the back of his head, like consuming a part of me was a cosmic experience for him. Now he knows how I feel when I swallow him.

I push him onto his back and rip the blanket off his hard, naked body to straddle his thighs. His length stands at attention, the tip red and flushed. My mouth salivates at the thought of taking him into my mouth and down the back of my throat until I’m gasping for air again.

“Judging by the filthy expression on your face, you’re plotting something, aren’t you?” he asks. I nod and lick my lips to give him a hint. He sighs in disappointment before pulling me down, so I’m lying on top of him. He wraps his arms around me and rolls us over, then playfully bites over the mark on my neck.

I’ve caught glimpses of Rocco’s playful side, even experienced it, but it usually comes with a side dish of sadism—seasoned with the dirtiest talk that makes me rethink my morals and life decisions.

This playfulness is just because he feels like it, and I’m lowkey obsessed with it.

“As much as I want to see those pouty little lips stretched around my cock and feel your tonsils again, I have to raincheck, lionheart. I have a virtual meeting I can’t miss in 20, and still need to get dressed. I’ll need breakfast…” He smiles at me, and even though his smile is still mischievous and harsh, it’s comforting too.

I glance at the clock in momentary panic that instantly dies down when I see that the girls don't wake up for another 30 minutes.

“Fuck, I thought I missed them,” I sighed.

“Nah, I saw how important it is to you to see them before they leave. It’s a bit overkill to make them omelets, bacon, pancakes,anda smiley fruit bowl, but you’re an overachiever like that.”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the cameras, but instead of raging like I would have a couple days ago, I just roll my eyes and huff my annoyance away.

“You and your ridiculous cameras. Good luck watching me now that I live with you.”

His smile twists with knowing, gaining a smug flair.

“What?” I ask, even though I know what he’s about to say. He probably has cameras in the kitchen, so he can watch me while I work like a creeper.

Thoughts of cooking his lunch in nothing but an apron or pleasuring myself on the kitchen island float through my head. I’ll give him a real show, since he’s so hellbent on watching me like the voyeur he is.

“Nothing.” I open my mouth, to needle him into saying more, but he puts his finger over my mouth. “You need to get dressed and get breakfast ready. I’ll take a plate in my office with hot coffee.”

He climbs out of bed, giving me a view of his muscular ass and thighs. He has that beefy boxer’s build and the sight of him naked, especially from the back, knocks me out.

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