Page 46 of Sin City Obsession

She was begging again. Some distant part of her brain registered that her mouth kept repeating some form of a plea—she couldn’t seem to stop herself where he was concerned. She certainly couldn’t be bothered to care.

Then he finally came, his cock kicking inside her as the roar of his release filled the air. She could feel everything. And she wanted so badly to come with him.

Rocco lowered over her once more, breathing hard. His pounding thrusts reduced back down to deep, grinding rocking movements of his hips. He’d come, but he hadn’t softened yet. He brought his lips to her ear, and his words washed over her soul. “You’ve been such a good girl. I won’t draw this one out. Put your hands on me, and this time, when you feel it, let it happen. This time, we come together.”

Chapter fourteen

Choices

Rocco couldn’t bring himselfto crawl out of bed when he woke. There were so many things they needed to talk about, really, and for as sore as he felt in the moment, he knew damn well he’d get distracted if they tried talking naked. He hadn’t had such poor self-control in years. But he wanted to hold her. He wanted to stay near her, and to watch the way the silk bedsheet shifted oh-so-subtly with her every soft, steadybreath.

Alessa was gorgeous in sleep, of course. Her hair was still a mess from the way she’d undulated beneath him the night before, and most of the marks he’d left across her neck and shoulders had faded in the hours since they’d collapsed. Most.

Rocco felt a possessive grin lift his lips as his wandering eye spotted at least two remaining. One where he’d bit down on the outer curve of her unblemished shoulder, and one where he’d sucked a quality hickey over her pulse point.Good.Both spots were temporary, but at least she would be wearing his mark somewhere for the majority of the day.

And he’d certainly enjoy rebranding her later.

His gaze continued to travel over her, his eyes drinking in her barely tanned complexion and her perfectly shaped nose. There wasn’t a damn thing about her he didn’t find attractive.

The grin faltered, dropping into a frown as his eye snagged on the phones on the bedside table Alessa had brought in from the bathroom in the middle of the night. He supposed there was one thing, but it wasn’t physical.

She still thought she was beholden to another man.

Two weeks.He had two weeks to show her otherwise. Two weeks to prove to her that she belonged with him,tohim, and only him.

He didn’t give a fuck about histories. He would never tell her she couldn’t go back to New Jersey for a casual visit, considering everyone she knew lived there, but herfuturewas Las Vegas. Her future washim. He knew it. He just had to get her to see it. And disappointing though it was, he was smart enough to realize that would require more than simply getting her hooked on his dick.

Actually…That wasn’t the worst angle.

Moving carefully, Rocco replaced the arm she’d been lying on with a pillow, placed a soft kiss to her forehead, and slipped from the bed. He found a pair of sweatpants in his walk-in closet to step into, then padded quietly from the room and down the stairs. He didn’t bother taking either phone—hers was likely dead, but his was plugged in and usable. If she woke up, the presence of his phone would assure her he wasn’t far.

As he’d expected, her things were waiting in the foyer. He still had mixed feelings about having let someone else pack her stuff, but since she was likely to insist on moving out of the free suite now that her job was done anyway, this was easier than arguing over where she stayed next. It also made his new goal much more achievable.

He lucked out, finding a smaller toiletry container—not really a bag—packed inside the large bag-like case she’d probably used as a carry-on on the plane. And inside that, as he’d known he would, he found pills in foil packs, enough for two months’ worth.She couldn’t possibly have thought she’d take that long.Maybe she just always kept them in this thing?

It didn’t matter, regardless.

Rocco extracted the packs and resecured the toiletry kit back into the larger bag. Then he carried the foil packs over to the lower-level bathroom, shut the door behind him, and methodically began popping each pill into the toilet. She’d barely started on the first pack, he noted, and of course the second was untouched. Until he got to it. It only took a minute for the nearly two months’ worth of contraception to be dissolving in the toilet water, and while he flushed that, he dropped theempty foils into the garbage. On top of those he deposited some random things he surely didn’t need and didn’t know why he kept in the bathroom vanity. Including a pack of condoms he would definitely not be using anytime soon.

He felt a small twinge reminiscent of guilt as he exited the bathroom, but shoved it aside.

Even if she was angry at first, Alessa would forgive him. She would understand and forgive him.

He was set to ascend as the head of the family by summer’s end and he was under more pressure than ever to think about the future. As things stood, he was the last Cavallo in the States. He had a distant cousin, female, about a decade younger, flitting about in Europe. She thought she’d disowned the family when she’d hit eighteen and they were content letting her believe that. But if Rocco didn’t provide an heir, sooner or later there would be a lot of in-fighting.

Rocco’s problem was that he didn’t just want to provide an heir. He wanted everything, the whole damn package. And he wanted it with Alessa. She was the perfect fucking queen to his king.

His thoughts—and his footsteps—derailed when his perfect queen let out a heartbreaking wail that ripped through the silence of the penthouse.

In the next instant, he was moving faster than he’d moved in years. He sprinted through the space between himself and the stairs, practically leapt up the stairs themselves, and had to catch himself with a hand on the wall as his bare feet skidded across the floor when he rounded into the bedroom. There couldn’t possibly have been an intruder, not unless the personhad been lying in wait forhourswhile they slept, waiting for them to be separate. But the fear was there regardless.

The relief he should have felt at seeing her unharmed, alone, and sitting upright in the bed barely flickered. It couldn’t, not beneath the simultaneous recognition of the way she shook and the way she was bent in on herself. She wasn’t sitting upright, in fact. She had sat up and then bent forward, curling almost into a ball. And she was crying.

“Alessa,” Rocco called, gentling his voice as much as he could manage while he tried to get himself back under control. He moved swiftly across the bed, more or less reclaiming his abandoned spot. “Alessa, beautiful, what happened?” He reached out and laid his fingers softly over her exposed shoulder blade.

She stiffened for a second, then sniffled audibly before slowly straightening. She kept the sheet pulled tight to her chest. “S-sorry,” she whispered.

The answer slammed into him.

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