Page 34 of Making the King

My body still sings with pleasure as Rocco pulls me closer, my back to his front. He palms my hip, his thumb stroking the skin as I do my best to relax.

“I hate to bring it up again, because you obviously don’t want to talk about it, but fuck, Cara, I want to understand.”

Rocco’s words make me stiffen and his arm snakes around me, holding me tight to him like he’s worried I’ll flee.

“Why did you impale yourself on my cock like that?”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I ponder whether I should tell him the truth. So far, he’s been honest with me, and he looked devastated when he saw my virginity blood coating his cock.

“I had to,” I mumble.

“But why?”

I shudder in his arms, and he moves his hand to my stomach, spreading it so he’s covering more of me. It feels good. Strange, but good.

“Because you hadn’t claimed me,” I admit in a small voice.

Rocco’s chest rises and falls rapidly, and his fingers dig into the skin on my stomach. “What the fuck does that matter?” he growls.

I don’t know why, but his reaction makes my heart skip a beat, and a smile I’m glad he can’t see, stretches across my lips. Warmth spreads in my chest, something I’ve never felt before so I don’t know what to call it.

“When dad sold Julietta, he told her husband-to-be that the sale wasn’t complete until he’d fucked her.”

I shudder again as I remember how my sister’s husband abused her while we all watched. That’s how I always thought it would be.

When I was in prison, I heard women moan with pleasure, but I always thought that was fake. Something they did because they had to. I’m sure some of them did because not everything that went down was consensual, just like not all of it was forced.

Rocco shifts behind me and moves his hand again. At first I think he’s going to touch me like earlier, and I’m not sure if I’m disappointed when he moves the tips of his fingers across my stomach. It tickles, but not in a way that makes me want to laugh. It’s more like fire trails in the wake of his gentle touch.

“I understand why you did it.” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, and I arch my back as his lips graze my skin. “But if you ever do something like that to me again, I’ll make you fucking regret it.”

“W-what?” I stammer, not liking the harshness of his tone.

“Did it ever fucking occur to you that I didn’t want to do something like that?”

I furrow my brows in confusion. “No,” I answer honestly. “You’re a guy. Guys expect sex, and you were hard so I thought you would like it.”

When he doesn’t answer, I ramble on.

“Besides, Mindy made it clear you like hard, brutal fucking.”

As soon as the words leave me, I wonder if he’s angry because he wasn’t in control. She said that’s what he wanted, and I took it from him.

“So fucking what? I might be a guy, but I’ve already made it clear I don’t force anyone to have sex with me. I never thought I had to fucking explain I don’t want to be used either.”

Used… yes, I used him.

“I don’t understand,” I say softly. “Explain it to me.”

He sighs, and the air tickles my skin. “Mindy should never have fucking run her mouth like that. But yes, I like fucking. And yes, I like it hard.”

“So you’re upset with me because I did it wrong?”

I feel him shake his head. “No, I’m upset because you took my fucking choice away, and hurt yourself instead of talking to me.”

Silence stretches around us as I contemplate his words. I hear them, yet I can’t make sense of them.

“And because your pleasure is important to me.”

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