Page 36 of Making the King

Rocco slides one hand down my stomach and all the way to the apex of my thighs. As his fingers skim my clit, I moan his name.

“That’s it, Killer. Fucking say my name.”

“Rocco,” I half-scream as he adds more pressure to my clit. “Yes, that’s it. Don’t stop.” I barely recognize my own voice, it’s throaty with need.

“Does it feel good?”

I barely hear him over the thundering beats of my heart. I’m too far gone to be able to form coherent words. Instead, I move my hips backward as he moves between my thighs, moaning unashamedly when he hits just the right spot over and over again.

“C-can I touch you?” I ask, desperate to know what he feels like but unsure if it’s okay or not.

“Of course,” Rocco groans. “Roll to your back.”

Doing as he says, I roll over, immediately spreading my legs, welcoming him as he moves between them. The tip of his cock nudges against my opening, but he doesn’t move inside.

“Wrap your hand around my cock,” he commands huskily. “And rub me against your clit.”

“Oh!” I cry out as I do just that, and it feels fucking amazing.

When I had him in my hand earlier, I didn’t take the time to really get a feel for him. But now I do. The skin is smooth, except for the vein running along the length. Is it supposed to be this hot? To throb in my hand? It feels heavy, and… and… fuck, I don’t know. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the way he feels against my pussy.

Groaning, Rocco commands, “Squeeze me tighter.” I don’t admit that I’m afraid to hurt him. “Here, let me help you.”

He places his hand on top of mine and adds pressure until I’m holding him how he wants it. He’s so big I have no idea how he fit inside me earlier, and my hand can’t even close around his girth.

“Now rub yourself.”

I lift my hips and angle them so he’s hitting me in a way that has pleasure coursing through my veins. I can’t stop moaning, every touch sends me higher, and I feel my toes curl.

“Rocco.” I cry out his name, unsure how to get us both where we want to be.

“I got you, Killer,” he groans as though he’s reading my thoughts.

He thrusts into my hand, hitting my clit with each movement and before long my legs are shaking and my free hand clutches the sheet beneath me.

“I-I’m going to… I can’t… Rocco!”

“Oh fuck,” he groans as he picks up the pace. “Yes. I’m going to paint your cunt in my cum.”

Unable to form words, I cry out as I come apart. This is nothing like before, it’s much more intense, and I can barely catch my breath.

Once I’m no longer shaking, I push myself up on my elbows. “What was that?” I ask curiously.

Rocco falls down next to me, a lazy grin on his lips. “What was what?”

“That,” I repeat, gesturing between us.

“An orgasm, Killer,” he says, rolling his eyes like I’m not making sense.

I shake my head. “Nuh-uh. This was nothing like earlier. It was… more.”

With a chuckle, he pulls me into his embrace, and I rest my head on his chest. “They’re not always the same,” he explains patiently. “Some are better than others.”

Huh, I never knew that. Then again, why would I when I never even knew a woman is able to feel good during sex.

Rocco’s phone vibrates on the nightstand, and he reaches for it, cursing as he answers.

“What?” he snaps into the microphone.

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