“Relax for me, baby,” he coaxed softly in my ear. My body obliged immediately, my muscles letting go of the tension wrapped around them. He groaned as if this pleased him. “Yes. Just like that. Good girl.”
I felt myself grow wetter. It was a Pavlovian experiment, and my body was conditioned to react to his words. With his other hand, he rubbed my clit, then stopped and, on a harsh breath, instructed me to do it. A shot of pleasure coursed through me. It was too much. Every part of me was full, alive, and on edge. He moved the finger he had in my hole to the rhythm that he was fucking me as I continued to rub myself. My body began to clench tight, and I knew that no amount of instruction would keep me from exploding. He took his finger out of my ass and leaned forward.
“Keep rubbing your clit while I fuck your pussy,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m going to put my finger in your ass again.” He touched that hole. I clenched again, unwillingly. “And you’re going to fucking come for me without making a sound. Can you do that for me? Can you keep quiet?”
“I d-d-don’t know,” I said shakily, louder than I should have.
He bit my shoulder. “You can, baby.”
I nodded, new tears forming. It was too much. He stuck his finger back in and started to fuck me harder, faster. What he was doing was already too much, creating a path of pleasure that began in my toes and made its way to my spine, my core. I stopped touching myself.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come for me?” he growled in my ear. I whimpered. He changed his position slightly, moving his body lower, and rolled his hips once, twice, applying pressure with his finger, and I was gone.
My body took flight. All I could do was feel. I’d never done drugs, but this must have been what people who did them were chasing, this high that took away all thoughts. I was unsure how long I’d been floating outside my body. When I opened my heavy eyelids, Rocco was in the bathroom washing his hands, and I was completely clean between my legs. He switched off the faucet, dried his hands, and grabbed a bottle from under the sink. I fell back onto the mattress, closing my eyes again. He moved me and got in bed next to me, propping himself up on one elbow while his hand traveled between my legs. I closed them tight in protest.
“Open your legs for me, Nora.” It was a soft request that made my eyes shoot open.
I studied him for a moment. The shadows on his face seemed to have vanished, even temporarily, and I felt comfort that I’d been able to help. I opened my legs for him and felt him apply something cold and wet. It felt marvelous against my battered flesh. I sagged down with a relieved exhale as he soothed me. He was still looking at me, studying every breath and every expression my face made as he applied more. When he was finished, he wiped his hand on his leg and brought it to my face. He didn’t say anything as he leaned in and kissed me. It was slow and tender, and it broke my heart more than anything he’d done to me previously. When he pulled away, he searched my eyes one last time before turning me so my back was facing his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and rained kisses on my neck, across my shoulder, behind my ear, and on top of my head. Then he buried his face in the crook of my neck and exhaled.
“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” I whispered.
“I’ve never really thought about it,” he said.
“Really?” I frowned, twisting my face to look at him.
“I’ve been to many different places and always go back to New York.”
“That’s home for you,” I said. It made sense.
“My home was stolen years ago. My family’s in New York, so that’s where I go.”
“You mean my brother and them,” I said.
“And my brother.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Where would you go?”
“Colorado.”
He laughed lightly as he frowned. “Colorado? Why? To get pot? You know it’s legal in New York, right?”
“Not for pot.” I turned over so I was on my back and could see his face better. “It just looks so beautiful. The mountains, the snow. All of it. Like a postcard.”
“I guess.”
“Have you ever been?”
“Nope.”
“Really?” I felt my eyes widen.
“Why would I go to Colorado?” he laughed lightly, and even though it was at my expense, I relished the sound, content to have lifted some of his darkness, at least for a moment.
“I just told you why.”
“I’ll make a note of it.” His eyes danced.
“What about The Netherlands?” I asked.
“You sure this isn’t about pot?”
