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With his arms wrapped tightly around me, Rocco effortlessly lifted me onto his lap, positioning me so that I straddled him on the stairs. His erection throbbed between us, a silent cue that we were far from done on the stairs.
“How about you fuck me again, and then we can figure out how we’re going to keep our hands off of each other?”
“No,” I protested at his suggestion. My resolve wavered in the face of his seductive touch, though. Rocco’s fingers found their way to my throbbing clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Despite my protests, my body betrayed me, responding eagerly to his expert touch.
With a wicked grin, Rocco wasted no time in claiming me once again, his lips crashing against mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. Our bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust more needy than the last.
The staircase became our sanctuary, a temple of pleasure where we worshipped at the altar of desire. Rocco’s hands roamed freely over my body, igniting every nerve ending with fire as he drove me crazy.
Sweat glistened on our skin as we moved together in a fast rhythm, lost in the intoxicating haze around us.
There was only Rocco and me. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word fueled the flames of our desire, driving us ever closer to the edge of ecstasy.
As we reached the peak, our movements became more frenzied, driven by an insatiable hunger that burned within us like wildfire. Our cries of pleasure filled the air, mingling with the sound of our bodies colliding in raw desire.
Our bodies convulsed in unison as waves of euphoria washed over us like a tidal wave. Rocco let out a primal roar as he surrendered everything.
We caught our breath in the aftermath of our intense lovemaking, Rocco’s gasped expletive echoed in the stairwell, “Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck was right,” I agreed, my own breath coming in short, ragged gasps as I leaned against Rocco, my body still tingling from my orgasm.
“We really can’t do that in front of Imogen,” Rocco sighed, his tone laced with a mixture of regret and amusement.
I couldn’t help but laugh. The sexual tension of the moment disappeared. “Yeah, she’s my best friend, but I think there are some things that should not happen in front of each other,” I agreed, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips.
After we caught our breath, we quickly dressed. Rocco led me down the stairs, his touch electric against my skin as he pressed a searing kiss to my lips before heading back into his office.
“Let’s see if we can go another four hours without touching each other,” he suggested, his voice thick with desire.
I couldn’t help but smirk at his suggestion, knowing full well that our resolve would likely crumble at the first opportunity. “You just want to actually wait because what happened on the stairs was out of this world,” I teased, my own desire reigniting at the memory of our passionate encounter.
Rocco’s eyes darkened with desire as he grabbed my ass and squeezed, his touch sending shivers down my spine. “You’re damn straight, babe,” he murmured, his lips grazing mine in a promise of things to come.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rocco
I woke up to the soft glow of morning sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a warm golden hue over the room. Beside me, Dorothy lay curled up against me, her soft breaths a gentle rhythm against my chest. I shifted slightly. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she blinked up at me with sleepy eyes.
“Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
“Morning,” I replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead before settling back against the pillows.
Dorothy shifted slightly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across my chest. “Can I ask you something?” she asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity. She was starting the morning talkative. Most of the time, she needed her coffee before she wanted to string a few words together.
“Ask away, babe,” I replied, turning to face her.
“Where did you grow up?” she inquired, her eyes searching mine.
“Chicago,” I answered, a flood of memories washing over me at the mention of my hometown. “Born and raised.”
Dorothy nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “Did you ever come to Jackson to visit your uncle?” she asked. “I was just wondering if maybe we had met before.”
“Every summer from when I was ten to seventeen,” I replied, my mind drifting back to those carefree days spent running around the funeral home.
“What happened when you turned seventeen?” she asked, her fingers trailing along my jawline.
“Uh, well, I had a lot going on back in Chicago, and I couldn’t get away for the whole summer anymore. I did stay in touch with Uncle, I just couldn’t get out here.”
