by Maya Blake
Rocco gave a pinched smile and sank onto the bed next to her. ‘On the contrary, I’m not thankful I missed any of it...but go on,’ he urged huskily.
‘Everything went smoothly after that.’ Mia’s gaze dropped to the handbag sitting on the floor.
Rocco’s gaze followed, his eyes sharpening. ‘What?’
‘I have a picture of the ultrasound if you want—’
‘Sì. I want. Very much,’ he insisted.
She reached for her bag, taking out her purse and the celluloid frame she kept within.
Rocco took it from her, his gaze absorbing every inch of the black and white image. Perhaps it was the naked emotion in his face that prompted her next action. Reaching once more into her bag, she took out her phone, flicked through the photos.
He took the phone from her, flicking back and forth through the images taken by her grandmother in her cottage garden when Mia was in late pregnancy. Wearing a yellow sundress with her hair long and flowing, she was the epitome of barefoot and very pregnant.
After an age, Rocco swallowed thickly. ‘Dios mio, eri squisito. I would’ve given much to see you for myself like this. So ripe, so beautiful with my child.’ His gaze lifted from the phone to her face. ‘You cared for him in the midst of uncertainty and strife. For that, you have my thanks, Mia.’
His words triggered a shiver from temple to toe, in the process flattening her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Speechless, she watched him reach out and turn on the bedside lamp. She had nowhere to hide, but her body didn’t seem interested in heeding her commands to move. So she lay there, her fists bunched in the bed covers.
Then, almost of their own accord, they slowly drew back.
Rocco inhaled sharply, his sizzling gaze scouring her body before coming back to rest on her face. ‘Sleep will be the last thing we’ll be doing if I get into that bed with you, Mia,’ he growled.
‘I know.’
Eyes locked on her, he toed off his shoes, then started to unbutton his shirt.
Mia swallowed, her senses jumping in a wild dance as she watched him shrug off his shirt to reveal washboard abs.
Dear God, he was glorious.
He paused with his hand on his belt, his eyes narrowing enquiringly on her face.
Her breath shivered out, ending in the low moan. And then she was rising, boldly placing her hands over his, brushing them away to take hold of his belt. Fingers trembling wildly, she eased it free, then slipped it through the hoops.
Rocco’s breath hitched as her fingers grazed his thick erection. Hers followed suit at the realisation that she’d stepped on a roller coaster that would only have one heady, thrilling end.
Or a new beginning?
She pushed the thought away, too afraid to contemplate the future. She was living in the moment. Whatever happened afterwards, she would deal with that too.
‘Do you intend to torture me to death with the slow teasing, amante?’
She looked up into his tense face, then looked down and realised that her fingers were frozen on the button of his trousers. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she slowly eased it free, then drew down his zip. He gave a tortured moan, his hands jerking out to rest on her shoulders before sliding into her hair to grip a handful.
‘Have your fun, tesoro, but do it quickly before one of us expires.’
She summoned a smile, caressing him with a light dance of fingers over his erection. ‘Hmm, I’m almost tempted to see who wins this battle of wills.’
‘Keep challenging me and we will find out,’ he responded thickly.
Then in typical alpha fashion, he hooked his fingers into his waistband and dragged both boxers and trousers down. He straightened, his body on full, unapologetically masculine display as he stared down at her.
Swallowing, Mia looked down, her senses tripping over each other as she stared as his manhood—beautifully sculpted, virile and infinitely tempting. She couldn’t help herself. She grasped him, then brought him to her lips. Another tortured groan ripped from his throat as she covered him with her mouth.
He allowed the caress for only a handful of seconds before he drew her back. ‘Enough.’
Then he went on the attack, efficiently undressing her until she was equally nude.
Just like last night, he picked her up and tossed her back onto the bed. Without giving her a chance to recover, he prowled over her and settled himself between her thighs.
Rocco took her mouth in a hot, torrid kiss, delving deep and tasting her with the boldness that robbed her of what little breath she had. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she drowned in desire. They rolled from one end of the bed to the other, almost animalistic in their desire to extract maximum pleasure from touch and taste and the heady scent of their coming together.
Eventually, driven to the edge of madness, she broke free of the kiss. ‘Please, Rocco, I need you.’
Her words triggered something inside him. Blindly he reached for the bedside table, pulled the drawer open and extracted a condom.
Rising onto his knees, he tore the packet open and slipped it on.
He was back, his fingers spearing into her hair as he angled her face up to his. Eyes locked on hers, he slid inside her. For five full seconds, Mia trembled, unable to stop the unrelenting tides of pleasure sweeping through her as he buried himself fully inside her. ‘Dio mio, you feel incredible,’ he rasped.
She had no words to reciprocate. She could only moan in sublime delight as he began to thrust inside her. With each stroke, she grew wilder, clawing at him the same way sensations clawed beneath her skin, attempting to reinvent her very being.
Dear God, her memory had failed her. Because this was so much more sublime than she recalled. More soul-stirring.
From being on the edge of control when she was undressing him, Rocco seemed to have regained his willpower over his body. Repeatedly, he drove her to the brink of release only to slow down, fuse his lips to hers and patiently wait for the tide to recede before enacting the dark magic all over again.
Mia was sure she drew blood from clawing at his back, her throat raw from screaming her pleasure.
‘I told you I would make you beg, didn’t I?’ Rocco muttered throatily when he had her poised on yet another peak.
‘Yes,’ she accepted. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘You win. Please.’
He held still, his lips a whisper from hers. ‘This changes things between us. You know that, don’t you, mio moglie?’ he pressed, taking full advantage.
She didn’t care. She was going out of her mind with this madness. ‘Yes,’ she cried.
‘Just so we’re clear,’ he murmured, after pressing another hot kiss to her lips. ‘No more separate bedrooms, sì?’
Mia groaned her acquiescence, her fingers digging into his back, her knees wrapped around his thick thighs as she ground herself into him. ‘No more separate bedrooms,’ she gasped.
Triumph flashed over his face. In the next breath, his control snapped. His thrusts intensified, his face a harsh, beautiful mask of desire as he finally gave them both what they needed. Mia tumbled first, unheeding where she landed as she dived headlong into the most earth-shattering climax she had ever experienced. But through the fog of her bliss, she heard Rocco give a rough shout as he found his own release.
Sweaty, hearts racing, they collapsed into each other’s arms and he rolled them sideways. He brushed his lips over her temple as they fought to regain their breaths.
Mia knew she needed to move, establish some much-needed distance, but for the life of her couldn’t find the energy. When Rocco rolled onto his back and pulled her over him, she went willingly, her head resting on his chest as he toyed with her hair.
‘I suppose you’d like me to do the honourable thing and restate my request now that I am not holding an orgasm over your head?’
She closed her eyes, revelling in the rumble of his voice beneath her cheek before raising her head to look him in the eyes. ‘Do you feel like doing the honourable thing?’ she asked, half teasing.
He raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. ‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On whether your answer will still be yes.’
Her senses screamed at her to be circumspect, to take a moment to reconsider what she’d readily surrendered moments ago. But she knew she was only fooling herself. She could only fight this powerful chemistry with Rocco for so long. At least on the physical side they were both equally bound by this spell. She wasn’t fooling herself into thinking there were emotions involved. For as long as this chemistry raged between them, why not indulge?
‘Contrary to what you accused me of last night, I’m not indifferent to the physical side of our relationship.’
An expression crossed his face, part triumph, part bewilderment. He didn’t answer immediately, just continued to toy with her hair for another minute before he nodded. ‘Then we are in agreement.’
She should’ve done the sensible thing then, just enjoyed the tension-free moment. Or, even better, encouraged him to sleep, thereby granting her some thinking room.
But Mia found questions crowding her brain and she let the first one slip out before she could stop herself. ‘Is that what your parents did? Hurt you with their indifference?’
He stiffened beneath her, his face locking in a formidable rejection of her attempt to probe. ‘What does it matter?’
‘You seem hung up on it, that’s why.’
His lips twisted. ‘Aren’t we all hung up on something?’
‘I want to know, Rocco.’
His eyes narrowed into icy slits. ‘Why? So you can tick a little feasibility box about me in your head?’
Her heart squeezed, mocking every intention to stay neutral. There was nothing neutral about what she felt about Rocco. Never had been. ‘Don’t do that.’
His nostrils flared, but he didn’t respond. Not for the longest time.
When he looked down from the ceiling, his eyes were bleak pools of bruised hurt she’d never witnessed before. Her breath caught but she forced herself to remain still, not to offer comfort yet in case he withdrew.
‘My grandfather left a sizeable inheritance when he died. With careful planning, my grandmother could’ve lived comfortably for the rest of her life. But my father coerced her into handing it over, with promises that he could double it. Within a year, he’d driven Nonna to the poverty line.
‘Then he became obsessed with chasing what he had lost. He played the same game with my mother, frittered away her inheritance as well. The cycle just kept on repeating itself. Unfortunately for them, I came along.’ His voice throbbed with bitterness but he clenched his jaw and continued. ‘An inconvenience they tolerated up until the burden of having a child grew too much for them. They dumped me with Nonna and I hardly saw them more than a few times a month. When I saw them, my father would regale me with how busy he was. How he was taking over the world and how he would get back everything he had lost. Nowhere in that narrative did I feature. I remember wondering why he was bothering with me when clearly he didn’t give a damn about me. Why he was torturing us with visits when it was clear he always wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else but wherever I was.’
‘Rocco...’
He shrugged away her sympathy. ‘They died when I was seven. I remember that day clearly. The authorities arrived at Nonna’s doorstep and I immediately knew. I told myself I didn’t care.’
‘But you did.’
He stiffened again, his gaze shifting away from hers to rest on the ceiling, but his fingers didn’t stop playing with her hair. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Of course it does. Your feelings matter. You expected them to care for you.’
‘Nonna provided me with everything I needed. More than.’
‘But Nonna wasn’t your parents. They brought you into this world. It’s different, I’m sure, if you didn’t know your parent at all, but to have them there right in front of you and still feel alone, unwanted or irrelevant hurts. Believe me, I know.’
His gaze dropped, latching onto her, compelling her own pain from where she had buried it deep.
‘I don’t know which is worse—having a full-time parent right in front of you who blames you for their every misfortune or having one who is occasionally present but distant.’
‘Your mother.’
She gave a painful nod.
‘Tell me.’
She shrugged. ‘She got pregnant with me when she was starting out in her career. She wanted to be a nurse. But she was a young, single mother with no income to speak of. So she settled for...less. And she...hated me for it.’
Rocco frowned. ‘Where was your grandmother in this picture?’
‘Sidelined. For whatever reason, my mother refused all help. They fell out over my upbringing and never really healed their relationship. She seemed determined to lay all the blame on the timing of my arrival rather than...’ She stopped, fresh anguish flaying her.
‘Was that why you didn’t want children?’
She tensed. ‘It was why I wanted to wait to have children. I never didn’t want children, Rocco. It was simply a matter of timing.’
Silence pulsed in the room, then he cursed under his breath. ‘None of that matters any longer, sì?’ he said gruffly.
Something weighty shifted inside her. ‘No. The moment he was born, Gianni became my everything,’ she whispered.
They both stopped, absorbed the wonder of their child. From the first, she’d vowed to be a better parent. The way her mother had never been. The way she’d always yearned for.
‘He makes me want to do things differently,’ Rocco said gruffly, echoing her thought so succinctly her heart flipped over again.
Dear God, what was happening to her?
A lump rose in her throat and to combat the emotion, she simply nodded.
Then the plane lurched.
Rocco rolled them over and braced himself on his elbows. He stared down at her, but something told Mia the little heart-to-heart was gone. Certainly, the look in his eyes was no longer bitter, bewildered, or holding that hint of vulnerability she’d spotted as he’d spoken about his parents.
He was back in alpha-male mode, in control of everything around him. Of her. ‘By my reckoning we land in about half an hour. This give us just enough time.’
‘Enough time for what?’
He smiled, a wickedly male smile that reignited the fire in her belly. ‘Let me show you.’
And he did, wringing cries from her throat as the plane started its descent. After another bout of lovemaking, they only had time for a quick shower before the plane landed.
Mia slipped into business mode as if she’d never left her role at Vitelli Construction.
The visit to the building site went off without a hitch, her initial assessments confirmed once she’d walked the ground for herself. The proposal to commence work in four months’ time was signed off. Then she and Rocco headed back to their hotel.
The next three days flew by in a flurry of meetings, dinners with Macau city officials and clients. And to top each night off, mind-melting sex with Rocco. Private video-conferencing sessions with Gianni arranged by Rocco made the searing ache of missing him a little easier to bear.
They were preparing to go out to dinner with another set of clients the night before they were due to leave when Rocco excused himself to take a phone call.
Mia nodded distractedly, her gaze on her reflection in the mirror. Specifically, her dress.
The selection of outfits that had arrived from the exclusive boutique attached to the hotel, courtesy of Rocco’s insistence, had been hard to choose from, each garment a little more perfect than the last.
She’d eventually settled on a sleeveless dark lilac silk sheath. But what struck her more wasn’t the flawless design of the dress, but the renewed glow to her skin, the fuller curve of her hips and the vitality in her cheeks and eyes.
Observing the changes had quietly shocked her. Had it only been two weeks since Rocco charged back into her life? She’d changed inside and out, a realisation that triggered mild panic.
As she had been terrified of that first day, everything was moving too fast. But then hadn’t it always with Rocco? Life with him was like a roller-coaster ride that could either stop at any minute or spin faster until you grew too dizzy to recognise your surroundings.
Was that what she wanted in the long term? She’d already abandoned her one stipulation not to share his bed. And how long would that even last?
Unable to face the questions darting through her brain, she turned away, slid her feet into designer heels that came with the dress and caught up her clutch. Leaving the bedroom of the presidential suite where they were staying, she spotted Rocco pacing the balcony. His phone was glued to his ear—a not unnatural occurrence since their arrival, but even from the distance, she sensed his tension. The sound of her clicking heels on the immaculate hardwood floor caused him to whirl around.
Laser eyes latched onto her, tracking her. When she reached the French doors, he ended the call and strode towards her.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked.
‘Ovviamente.’ Despite his assurance, she couldn’t mistake the terseness in his voice or his tense frame as he held out his arm to her. ‘Shall we?’
She slid her arm through his, allowing him to lead her into the private lift and then downstairs to the restaurant where they were meeting their clients.
Rocco slid effortlessly into host mode. But throughout dinner, she caught his gaze returning to her repeatedly, the expression in his eyes unreadable. Her unease heightened as the dinner drew to a close.
Knowing she wouldn’t be able to rest until she got to the bottom of what was threatening their albeit new but shaky status, she smiled at the client as coffee was cleared away, ready to make her excuses. But it turned out Rocco had other ideas.
