Rocco Spinelli
We barely enter my hotel room before I lift her into my arms and press her back against the door. Her legs wrap around my waist and she pulls my mouth back to hers. In a frenzy to claim one another, our tongues clash and our teeth clang. Both of us are desperate for control, and we make a show of it by nipping and sucking at each other. My teeth brush her lips and her fingers curl into the ends of my hair, holding me in place as I assault her mouth.
It’s ruthless.
Unapologetic.
Fucking combustible.
But I’m not surprised, I knew Violet and I would set the world on fire. I knew it the first time I kissed her. Here’s a girl who has everything going for her. Smart, sexy, a bright future. A fucking modern-day angel and I, the devil. That’s why I tried to steer clear—a pitiful attempt on my behalf, but an attempt nonetheless. The truth is, I have no business getting involved with Violet. But every man has a weakness and Violet Cabrera is mine. If giving in is wrong, I don’t ever want to be right.
Breaking the kiss, she pushes my jacket down my shoulders and tugs at my already loose tie. Once the knot is out, she sends it flying across the room and starts working on the buttons of my shirt. I shrug it off, letting it fall to the floor and set her on her feet. Taking her hand, I pull her toward the bed and take a seat at the edge. My hands land on her hips as my eyes wander up her body, taking in every curve. Finally, my gaze settles on her face.
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” she says, huffing out a breath.
I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
I’m too fucking gone to care about the consequences. I can’t explain it, but there is a carnal need inside of me and it can’t be suppressed. It can’t be ignored. The only way this isn’t happening is if she has a change of heart or someone breaks down the door and shoots me. It would have to be a good shot too, because wounded and all, I’d still make Violet mine.
“Take your clothes off,” I reply evenly. “Slowly.”
Her eyes light with satisfaction at my command and she licks her lips, trying to hide her smirk.
Those lips.
That mouth.
My cock is going to look fucking amazing sliding in and out of it.
There’s plenty of time for that, though. We have all fucking night and I don’t plan on wasting a single second. Violet’s going to feel me for fucking days.
When she walks and her legs ache.
When she dances and her hips lock.
When she fucking sits and her ass cheeks burn from the sting of my hand.
When she lays in bed at night and her fingers don’t satisfy the ache between her legs.
Yeah, she’s going to feel me. But first, there’s something I want from her. Something I’ve been yearning for since I spotted her on that stage in Delilah’s Den. A pretty little memory to keep me going when this new life of mine becomes too taxing for my soul.
She pulls her shirt over her head and quickly reaches behind her to unhook her bra. The straps fall down her arms, revealing her perky tits. This time I don’t struggle with my conscience and I openly stare, taking in her hardened nipples and the rosy areolas that surround them. My dick swells against the zipper of my pants as she hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her sweats. She kicks off her Adidas slides and slowly shimmies the pants down her hips. Stepping out of the sweats, she takes a step toward me, but I hold out up a hand in protest. My gaze lowers to the scrap of lace covering her cunt.
“That too.”
“So demanding,” she complains.
She has no fucking idea how demanding I am, but she’ll learn. I plan on teaching Violet lots of things and the lessons begin tonight.
She tears the lace down her legs and shucks the thong aside. Completely naked, she props a hand on her hip and narrows her eyes. “There.”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the years we spent teasing one another. Her quick wit and sarcastic humor have made for great matches, but sparring with her during sex is going to be the fucking highlight of my life.
The best fucks are the ones full of fire, and Violet’s a blazing inferno.
I lift my head and tip my chin.
“Take your hair down,” I order huskily, pressing the heel of my hand to my cock.
Muttering a curse, she rolls her eyes and reaches for the band holding all that blonde hair on top of her head. She gives it a good pull and all those waves fall around her shoulders.
“Anything else?”
Feeling on edge, I hastily undo the buckle of my belt and roughly unbutton my pants. Relieving myself, I drag down the zipper and lift my eyes to her.
“Just one more thing,” I say.
“Rocco—”
“Dance for me.”
The fire temporarily leaves her eyes as her eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“You want me to dance for you?” she questions, swallowing and shaking her head. “But there’s no music.”
“You don’t need music, it’s in your soul and it’s taught your body every chord. Show me your grace, Violet.” I pause, leaning forward. Grabbing my knees, my gaze penetrates her and the words that leave my lips next are a whisper. “Dance for me.”
She draws her lower lip between her teeth seeming to contemplate my request. Then she takes a step back and glances around the room. Spotting a chair, she drags it away from the table and positions it front of the bed.
I look from the chair to her beautiful face, expecting her to perform one of her acts from Delilah’s, but she doesn’t use the chair as a prop. Instead her fingers tighten around the back of the chair and she closes her eyes. A moment passes before her eyes spring open and lock with mine. Drawing in a deep breath, she uses the back of the chair as leverage to lift herself onto her tip toes and spins so that her back is to me. Spreading her arms wide, she gracefully raises them above her head and twirls around.
I knew she had talent, I saw it firsthand, but this is different. It’s art in its purest form and with every graceful move that follows she creates a masterpiece for my eyes only and as she surrenders her body and soul to her craft, and I lose myself to her.
Keeping my eyes pinned to her, I lift my leg and cross it over knee. I make quick work at removing my designer shoes and dress socks. Then I stand and let my slacks drop down my legs. I step out of them as she twirls and jumps in front of me. She lands, crossing one leg in front of the other and her eyes lock with mine. Surprise flickers in her baby blues and it’s as if she forgot I was even there, watching her, committing it all to memory. Every twirl and every jump. The way her body bent and stretched as she moved around the hotel room.
I close the distance between us, laying one hand on her hip and brush the hair away from her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear.
“Beautiful,” I rasp, moving my hand to her jaw. My thumb brushes over her lower lip. “So fucking beautiful.”
She swallows, drawing in a deep breath and her dainty fingers fall to the waistband of my boxer briefs.
“Are we done?” she whispers, sliding her hands inside the briefs. My cock stiffens against her palm and she mewls as she closes her hand around my shaft.
“Baby, we’re just getting started.”
I let her slide my boxers down my thighs, then I kick them off the rest of the way. In one swift move, I lift her into my arms and walk her toward the bed. Depositing her on top of the comforter, I kneel on the bed. Her hair fans out over the pillows as she bends her knees. Spreading her legs, I crawl between them. My gaze darts to her pussy.
Bare, wet, and perfect.
I hunker down between her legs and her breath hitches as I press my lips to the inside of her thigh. I start at her knee and work my way up, pausing at her pussy. She arches her hips, thrusting her beautiful cunt in my face, but instead of licking it like we both want, I torment us both and move my mouth to her other thigh.
“Rocco,” she hisses.
“Hmm,” I murmur again
st her thigh.
“Stop fucking teasing me,” she pleads.
I lift my eyes to hers, dragging my finger through her lips and she moans in pleasure.
“More,” she pleads.
Grabbing her knees, I push her legs even further apart before spreading her open with my fingers. Her pussy glistens like the diamonds on her wrist and I quickly lower my mouth. My tongue runs up her slit in one stroke.
“Fuck yes,” she cries, arching her back.
One fucking taste and I’m addicted. I’m a desperate junkie and her sweet cunt is my drug. I flick my tongue against her clit and slide two fingers inside that wet fucking heat. Her legs cradle my head as she rides my fingers and bucks against my tongue. I push her legs down, holding them to the mattress and her fingers roughly tangle with the ends of my hand, holding me in place as she grinds her sweet pussy all over my mouth.
“Holy shit,” she cries. “Keep going, don’t stop. Don’t ever fucking stop.”
Little does she know, there’s no end in sight.
Flattening my tongue to the tiny bud, I insert another finger. I pump them in and out of her mercilessly, licking and sucking on her clit. Her legs lock and she screams my name as her release finds her.
“That’s it,” I growl in between laps. “Cum all over me, baby.”
My fingers.
My mouth.
Give me everything you got.
Removing my fingers, I continue to stroke her, spreading her wetness all around her pussy, flicking her clit softly. When her body goes lax against the mattress, I lift back onto my knees and bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking every drop of sweetness from them. Violet’s eyes open and she hazily stares up at me.
I brace my hands over her head, lay my body on top of hers and take her mouth with mine, shoving my tongue between her lips. She wraps her legs and arms around me and without breaking the kiss, I roll us over. I comb my fingers through her hair, angling her head and I fuck her mouth with the same finesse I used to eat her out.
She straddles my thighs and lowers herself, teasing my cock with that delectable pussy of hers.
“Take it,” I growl. “Take my cock inside of you and ride me.”
She doesn’t listen and so I grab her tits. I push them together and roll my thumbs over her erect nipples. She responds with another violent thrust of her hips.
My pretty ballerina, such a greedy lover.
“You want to play?” I grind out. “Let’s fucking play.” I lean forward, taking her nipple between my teeth and pull. She cries out, arching her back as my tongue circles the bud. Then I suck it hard. My fingers curl into her hips and I release her nipple, licking it softly. She lifts her body and positions my cock at the entrance of her cunt.
She starts to lower herself when I take back control and pull her down, making her pussy swallow all nine inches in one shot.
“Fuck,” I curse. She’s so fucking tight it feels like my dick is in a vice. I need her to move. “Ride me, baby, show me what you got.”
She braces her hands on my chest and circles her hips, sliding up and down on my cock. Her tempo is slow as her body gets used to the feel of me, but then as she stretches, her speed increases and it’s on. She fucks me like her life depends on it and it’s a beautiful fucking sight. I reach around her, gathering her hair around my fist and smack her ass with my other hand as her small tits bounce in my face.
Teasing me.
Taunting me.
Fucking wrecking me.
I bury my head between them, licking the smooth valley of sweaty skin. She cries out and rocks her hips. I can tell she’s about to blow by the way she clenches around me. I sit up, keeping her impaled on my cock, and flip us over. Her back hits the mattress and I take her legs, lifting them high onto my shoulders as I pull out.
Her cheeks flush with anger and she narrows her eyes.
“Rocco,” she hisses in protest.
Bending my head, I slam my mouth over hers and push my cock back inside of her. I pound her relentlessly, burying myself to the hilt. My mouth leaves hers and trails down her neck, sucking and licking.
Marking her.
Branding her.
Mine.
All fucking mine.
A bead of seat drips from my forehead and falls to her skin. I slide my hand between her legs, find her clit and after two strokes of my thumb, she goes off. Her body spasms beneath me as she fists the sheets and screams my name.
I pump and pump until my vision blurs and my balls tighten. I’m about to blow my load inside of her when I realize I’m not wearing a rubber.
“Fuck,” I growl and pull out.
I fist my cock, giving my shaft a few strokes and force my eyes back to her. Sate and catching her breath, Violet’s looks at me and only then, when our eyes lock, do I find my release.
Ribbons of white hot come spurt from my cock, decorating my hand and Violet’s toned stomach. That fire flickers in her eyes and becomes my undoing as she drags a finger through the come and rubs it into her skin.
It’s a sight I’ll never forget and when the last drop leaves my body, I release my cock and bend my head, kissing her slowly. Taking my time to love on her. To thank her for the peace she’s given me tonight.
She has no idea how badly I needed her.
It has little to do with sex and everything to do with how I feel when she’s around.
I got straightened out tonight and I’m on the verge of becoming the boss. But here, in this bed, I’m not the second coming of Victor Pastore. I’m just the man who made Violet Cabrera come twice. The man who gets up and grabs a warm towel to clean her. The man who plans on making her come three more times before the night is over.
Here, with Violet, I’m just Rocco Spinelli.
I’m just hers.
Chapter 17
Violet Cabrera
“I’m fucked,” I moan, wincing as I climb back into bed. For a flexible girl and someone whose profession requires her to be physically fit, my body isn’t conditioned to go six rounds with Rocco Spinelli.
I’m also a disgrace to woman everywhere, but I leave that part out. It didn’t take much for me to give into Rocco tonight and I’m trying really hard not to beat myself up over it.
Folding his arms behind his head, Rocco smirks at me.
“Yeah, you are,” he deadpans. “But don’t worry, it’s a good look you.”
Rolling my eyes, I swat his chest.
“That’s not what I meant,” I argue. “I can barely walk, much less dance,” I explain, ignoring the fact that try outs for the latest production are in two months and I need to bring my A-game to the Academy from now until then if I want a spot.
He takes my hand from his chest and laces his fingers with mine. Lifting our joined hands, he brushes his lips across my knuckles. It’s a sweet gesture, one that surprises me, but he’s done that a lot to surprise me in the last twenty-four hours, from showing up at the restaurant and surprising me with the bracelet, to bringing me back here and asking me to dance for him.
I wasn’t expecting that and at first I thought it was an odd request. I mean, I was fucking naked and there was no music. Still, I gave into the request and not once did his gaze ever waiver from me as I leaped and whirled around the room, performing pirouette after pirouette. I had his undivided attention and I discovered dancing in front of a room full of people was overrated compared to dancing solely for Rocco. No one watched me perform and appreciated my talent quite like he did and that realization alone made me want to quit the ballet altogether and become his private dancer. A scary thought for a girl who thought her life and dreams centered around dance.
But the thing that threw me most was discovering how versatile Rocco was in the bedroom. He fucked me like a brutal savage—a starved animal feasting on his prey. But then he loved on me with a gentleness one wouldn’t think a man like him could possess. He was everything a woman dreamed of when taking a lover and by my fourth orgasm of the night, I knew I was doomed
. Rocco Spinelli was dangerous, all right, but not in the way he thought.
In a matter of hours, I had forgotten all about Pilar and the shooting. His ties to his uncle’s organization didn’t faze me either. I even pushed all the games he played with me to the back of my head. None of it mattered because as soon as we stepped into this hotel room tonight, he wasn’t Rocco Spinelli the gangster or my brother’s best friend, he was my Rocco. The guy who stole my heart when I was just twelve years old and never gave it back.
And now, for the first time ever, I’m terrified of him because I know he is going to break my heart and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
I’m defenseless.
“We got about an hour before I have to take you home. Do you want me to draw you a bath?” he asks, pulling my attention back to him.
A bath sounds like Heaven, but I don’t want to spend sixty minutes in a tub soaking my muscles when I can be here in his arms.
“I’ll be okay,” I say softly as he thumbs the bracelet on my wrist.
So much for giving that back.
A frown ticks the corners of my lips and I draw in a deep breath. Earlier when I laid in my bed, waiting for him to call, I swore I wasn’t going to keep the bracelet. Then as soon as I climbed into the car he checked to see if I was wearing it and the promise flew out the window.
Other women would probably fawn over such an extravagant present, especially knowing Rocco is connected. I don’t know what it is about women, but they’re dazzled by the mob. They think dating a mobster is exciting. Dangerous and alluring. They have this preconceived notion that it’s the shit romance novels are made of.
I get it.
I mean before I ever heard the name Pastore, I had watched Goodfellas—it was my brother’s favorite movie and always on the television. And I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t wish I was Karen Hill a time or two. I pictured being wined and dined and spoiled with expensive gifts, like jewelry and the latest designer handbags. But that was before I realized every gift comes with a price tag that’s not measured in dollars and cents, but rather in blood and morals.
Straightened Out (The Pastore Crime Family Book 1) Page 12
