Page 16 of Bingeworthy
“I’m not about giving anyone a show,” he says. He slips his hand under the hem of my hoodie and palms my bare waist. His touch is rough and warm as he presses into me, claiming my mouth.
I get needier the longer we kiss, and my hips start to act on their own, pressing into him. Taking my cue, Rocco leads me around the sofa, where he sits down and positions me crosswise on his lap.
I shiver as my arms circle his strong shoulders.
“Hi,” I whisper.
His hand slips under the hem of my shirt once again, this time caressing my breast. He thumbs the lace over my nipple and groans when I gasp.
He presses his forehead to mine and slips his hand inside my bra.
“I’ve wanted to touch these all day. Watching you run around on the field was making me crazy. Thinking about what was under that oversized hoodie.”
“Ooh, a sexy oversized hoodie makes you crazy? Do you know how slutty you look in those sweaters of yours, Rocco?”
He laughs, and I take this moment to tug the hoodie off over my head. He helps me accomplish this as I struggle.
His hand tugs down the lace of my bra. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I watch as he wets his lips, then licks that wicked tongue over one nipple. My head drops back, and I sweep my fingers through his soft curls as he sucks. And licks. And pulls. The sensation is pure, delicious sin.
Rocco’s mouth then worships the opposite nipple, while working the first one between his forefinger and thumb.
I can’t take this underwire anymore. I reach back to unhook my bra, but Rocco is all over it, swatting my hands away and popping it loose with one quick movement.
“I need to look at you,” he murmurs, still relentlessly worshiping my boobs.
My feet do not touch the floor when we transition to the bedroom, bathed in low light.
Rocco sets me on the bed and helps me tug my jeans off, inch by inch.
“Fucking beautiful,” he says, hovering over me, cupping and squeezing my breasts, my hips, my thighs.
I feel as if I’m the only woman on the planet.
“Rocco, I’ve never done this with the lights on before,” I say.
“Then get ready, baby. I want your eyes on me while I make you come.”
My blood pulses in all the right places.
His hot mouth scorches a trail down my throat and down between my breasts before lavishing my stomach with kisses. I thread my fingers through his hair and rasp, “Tell me what you want me to do for you, Rocco.”
“Just tell me how you want to come. By my hands or my mouth?”
He kneads the flesh inside my thighs as he awaits my answer.
Is this a trick question?
“Mouth,” I squeak.
That mischievous smile returns.
Oh, god.
I gasp as Rocco scoots me to the end of the bed and kneels in front of me. He pulls one thigh on one of his shoulders and spreads me open.
He kisses me from the inside of my knee, slowly working his way upward. His scruff scratches the tender skin of my inner thigh, and my breath catches in my throat.
It feels incredible, but none of it compares to what happens next.
