Page 46 of Sin City Obsession (De Salvo Empire #1)

Her nostrils flared and her jaw trembled. The finger stubbornly pressing against his chest became a flattened palm. “The queen is supposed to be the wildcard.”

Rocco scoffed. “Well, I think you proved that true tonight.” He drew a deep breath, trying to sort out his thoughts. “You nearly fucking died out there.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t?”

“You were supposed to be—”

“So help me, if you say ‘safe’ or ‘away’ or anything like that, I will smack you once for every bullet you let touch what’s mine.”

Rocco fisted a handful of her hair, drawing her closer. “It can’t be such a crime that I want you to live . I want us to have a future, Alessa, and for that I need you breathing and whole.”

She twisted both her hands into the fabric of his shirt, near the collar. “And with you,” she added on a haggard exhale.

He slammed his mouth to hers, unoccupied hand sliding up her thigh and slipping beneath her skirt to take hold of her ass.

She wasn’t wrong. He desperately needed her with him.

And once he’d gotten some of the fire out of his blood, he would try to tell her the more rational things he’d recognized, too.

But for the moment, he had no words. He had only the use of his body to show her what she was to him. What he needed from her.

From the way she helped to rip the clothes from his skin, and the fierce way she kissed him back, Rocco suspected their needs were mutual .

When he pushed her down on the sofa and sank his aching dick into her tight, sopping wet pussy, he was sure of it.

Just as he was sure that she’d forgive him for the lack of foreplay later, maybe after he pulled the pussy presently enveloping him up to his face and let her go for a ride. But, first, he needed to fuck her.

She needed him to fuck her. He could feel it in the way she clung to him.

The kiss broke with both of them gasping for breath, her chest pushing up against his as he continued to thrust his full length into her core. Her nails bit into his shoulders and she moaned.

“Oh, fuck, please, sir … more,” she begged, her voice breathless. “More, more—give me everything!”

Rocco grunted, seating himself deep and grinding against her. He leaned closer and nibbled on her ear. “I’ll give you everything, my queen. But I need everything in return.”

Her hands dragged up the back of his neck, making a mess of his hair as she held him close and arched against him. “It’s already yours.”

He slipped a hand between them to play with her clit as he alternated to deeper, more grinding thrusts. “That’s right. You’re fucking mine. Now be my good girl and come for me.”

Her body trembled and her grip tightened around him a heartbeat before the sweet sound of her ecstasy filled the air. He chased her over, pinning her beneath him as he emptied himself inside her once again.

Alessa was blissfully sore by the time Rocco carried her upstairs, and for once, he didn’t attempt anything more sexual than cuddling when he insisted they soak together. She was fine with that. She just wanted to revel in his arms.

She was half-asleep when he pulled them out of the tub, helped her towel off, and led the way back to the bedroom. A quick glance at the clock assured her it was late—far later than when they’d climbed from the SUV—so she thought nothing of pulling down the comforter and slipping into bed.

But Rocco didn’t join her.

Alessa paused, the comforter pooled in her lap, as Rocco strode around the bed to her side instead of climbing in on his.

He’d slipped on a pair of pajama-style sleep pants that were, honestly, even better than sweatpants to her mind.

He looked like he should be ready for bed.

Instead, he stood before her, an intensely serious expression on his face.

“Rocco?”

His chest deflated slightly with a quiet exhale, and then he took a half-step back and lowered to one knee. At the same time, he raised the hand he’d had low at his side, revealing a tell-tale box. A tell-tale box that held a stunning, gold banded, diamond ring.

Her breath caught in her throat. She would probably have collapsed if she’d been standing. Some detached part of her questioned why she felt so shocked, but she couldn’t focus on it. She could scarcely even breathe.

“I should have asked you this before I ran off to wage war,” he said, voice rough and hushed as if in reverence.

“I want you to know, I do regret that decision. It was never my intention to hurt you, or frighten you. I like to think you know that, but you deserve to hear it, too.” He swallowed, as if struggling for his words or his voice.

“More than that, you deserve to know—every goddamn day—how much I love you. You are my queen, Alessa Adimari, and I will ask you every day, on my knees, until you can no longer find a reason to say ‘no’, to be my bride.”

Fresh tears built in her eyes.

The edges of his lips lifted, bringing warmth to his eyes. “You should also know, for what it’s worth … I asked your father first. And I settled everything with Dante. They’ve both given their blessing, provided you consent.”

She clapped a hand over her lips to keep from shouting in some stupefied shock. A couple of tears escaped. He did not.

But he had. She could see it in his eyes.

Even if he hadn’t, she wasn’t sure her answer would have changed. It would have only been a tad more complicated. And because he’d thought ahead—he’d thought of all of it—now it wasn’t complicated at all.

Alessa wiped at her face, unable to stop her smile, and offered her hand. “I guess, since you went to all that trouble, I had better say ‘yes’, then.” She waited for his lips to raise more in a silent chuckle. “Yes, Rocco,” she whispered. “Of course I’ll marry you. ”

Rocco let out a breath, as if he had actually been nervous, and scooped up her hand.

Instead of immediately slipping the ring onto her finger, he bent forward and kissed her knuckles.

“I know we may argue again,” he said quietly as he lifted his burning stare to hers, “but please, never doubt me. I am yours every bit as much as you are mine.”

Alessa’s smile didn’t waver as she squeezed his hand. “I don’t doubt you.” She hadn’t, not truly. It was only fear that had whispered those thoughts to her. “But you should also remember, if you ever were to betray me, I’ll always know people. It’s not only my gun you’d have to worry about.”

He chuckled, kissed her knuckles again, and finally slid the ring onto her finger. “I can live with those terms.”

Alessa drew a breath, letting herself register the weight and feel of her new, oversized and obscenely beautiful engagement ring. “I do have one request.”

“Name it.”

She held his stare. “I want to be married before I start to show.”

His brows flew up toward his hairline.

She rolled her eyes teasingly and untucked one leg to tease his torso with her toes. “Let’s be real. Unless one of us has fertility problems, I am definitely pregnant. I don’t need a test to tell me that.”

He dropped his gaze to her wiggling toes and, slowly, back up her bare leg.

Up, over her torso, which was only covered in one of his casual shirts, until finally he was staring into her eyes again.

Desire once more burning back at her. “This is Las Vegas, beautiful. We can be married within the hour. ”

Alessa barked out a laugh, inadvertently collapsing back onto the mattress. “If I get married without inviting my mother, after a lifetime of her trying to marry me off, she’ll be the one who kills me.”

Rocco climbed over her, hovering just above her faintly heaving chest. “Fine. Next weekend.”

Alessa cupped his jaw. “How about … August? Or even September is probably fine. Let’s talk about it in the morning?”

He grunted. “No later than September.” Then he kissed her, scooped her up, and rolled her on top of him.