Page 65 of Making the King

Rocco quickly rips the shirt from my body. His movements make the fabric tear, and I fucking love that he’s as eager for me as I am for him.

Impatiently, I snake my hand into the slit in his boxers, and fist his length. His breath hitches as I apply more pressure than usual, but from the way his eyes roll back in his head I’m not worried.

“Fucking hell, Killer,” he growls, the sound tinted with lust.

“I’m still not naked,” I gripe.

He nips my bottom lip, continuing to kiss across my cheek to my neck, licking and nipping the skin all the way down to my shoulder. His hands find my heavy tits, squeezing them to the point it hurts. But fuck, it hurts so good.

“Rocco,” I moan.

“Patience,” he rasps.

I shake my head. “No. Make me feel good. I… oh!” Throwing my head back, I moan as he pinches and rolls my nipples between his thumb and index finger.

Rocco moves his hand between my legs and cups my pussy. “Stand up,” he rasps.

Untangling myself from him proves harder than I first thought. We landed sideways in the tub, so we’re neither sitting nor standing, but caught somewhere in between.

While giggling in an almost crazed way, I shakily stand up. Rocco is quick to slide my thong down my legs, kissing my thighs as he goes. Once I’ve stepped out of my underwear and he’s flung them to the side, he gets up as well.

Though the tub isn’t small, it feels it as we’re both standing here.

I frown when Rocco slides his hands under the waistband of his boxers. “I want to do it,” I say resolutely, slapping his hands away.

“Have at it,” he says, unleashing a devilish smirk.

After lowering myself to my knees, I tug at his black boxers. I moan with anticipation and lick my lips as his cock springs free, almost slapping me on the cheek.

Can a cock be beautiful? If so, Rocco’s should win best in show. It’s long, thick, and the red head glistens in the light. Probably a mix of the bathwater and pre-cum.

“See something you like?” Rocco rasps.

I nod. “Yes,” I say, wrapping my hand around the base. “Can I kiss it?”

The primal growl coming from deep in his throat is all the answer I need. I press my lips to the smooth head. Unsure exactly what to do, I move my hand up and down his length a few times. Then I lick the head, spearing the tip of my tongue into the slit.

“Fuck, Killer,” he groans. “Just like that.”

Since Rocco’s the only guy I’ve ever been with, I’ve never done this before. Courtesy of my mom, I technically know what to do. Hers isn’t the voice I want in my head though, so I peer up at Rocco through my lashes.

“Tell me what to do,” I implore.

Rocco swallows thickly, and I stare transfixed at his Adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. “Wrap your lips around the head,” he says, his tone gravelly with lust. “Move your hand up and down and suck.”

Doing as he says, I hollow my cheeks, creating suction while I move my hand up and down the shaft. Rocco’s raw sounds spur me on, and I let them guide me into finding a rhythm he likes.

Feeling bolder, I move my hands to his ass. I dig my nails in as I take him deeper into my mouth. He stiffens for a moment, and his breathing turns shallow as I part his cheeks.

“Cara,” he groans, and it almost sounds like he’s in pain.

Shit, I didn’t mean to do that. It just… happened.

I let go and pull back, scared I’ve crossed a line. “I’m sorry,” I rush out. “I didn’t mean to, and… I’m so sorry.”

Leaning down, he cups my jaw, shaking his head. “Do it again,” he demands.

I take him back into my mouth and move my hands to his ass again.

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