C2 When A Criminal Fucks Good 2.

Thalia's POV.

I felt my blood run cold the moment he said that. Every rush of dopamine in my veins became replaced with adrenaline.

He slowly lifted his head to face me, his eyes still carrying the same darkness I'd seen when I walked in. I racked my head, searching for the best way to respond to him. But no words came to mind.

My core ached from the loss of his thick length, my heart palpating from the fear that he might kill me.

Shit.

This was game over.

“Answer me, doll.” He demanded, his tone icy and sharp.

I blinked back, swallowing hard.

“Wha–what are you talking about?” I inquired, leaning onto my go-to move in times of trouble–pretense.

He couldn't get the truth if I played innocent.

But I couldn't shake off the feeling that instead of helping me finish, he might just pull the trigger on me.

His brows twitched, his expression void of any emotion.

“Aren't you Thalia Rox? Weren't you sent here to kill me?” He asked both questions at once, his eyes narrowing.

So he wasn't sure? Great.

I raised a brow, slowly dropping one of my hands to his chest even though my heart raced.

“Do you mean I plan to kill you with my pussy?” I whispered, making circles on his chest.

He stared at me like I was speaking another language. I could see how hard he was warring himself on whether to trust me or not.

It didn't matter what he chose though, he'd still lose.

“Maybe it's not you. But you look really familiar to Thalia Rox,” He breathed.

I rolled my eyes, “Thalia Rox, Clara Fox, just fuck me already. I was close to finishing.”

Hearing that, a smirk crept upon his lips, “you horny little slut. I might just decide to keep you after this.”

“I'd love that,” I mouthed, knowing that his wish would only happen when pigs fly.

Rocco slipped himself into me, his thickness now a cold contrast to my hot insides. He stretched me once more, making a juicy shuddery breath escape my lips as I closed my eyes.

He resumed his rhythm, slamming fast and hard into me. This time, his strokes were so fast that I could barely breathe. I wrapped my hands around his neck, moaning hard into the joining between his shoulder and neck.

One of his hands found my boobs and as he thrusted wildly into me, he fondled and teased my nipples, making me drip.

The sounds of his thrusts soon became sloppy, each stroke a reminder of how this was fleeting. He fucked so good that for a moment, I wished this would last forever. I moaned loudly, tightening my leg’s grip around his waist.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he chanted, his thrusts increasing.

His cock twitched inside me, triggering the release of my orgasm. As the juicy wave exploded through my folds, I felt hot cum sputter inside me.

Our heavy breaths became the next audible sound in the room. Rocco fell on top of me, his cock still offering me his very last strokes.

I bit hard on my lips, savoring the euphoria of the orgasm. His hardness slowly started reducing inside me, his hands now rubbing my arms softly. He peppered kisses from my neck up to my cheeks, humming softly.

Christ.

Was he doing aftercare?

That just made him ten times more attractive. At that moment, I didn't see him as the criminal I was supposed to murder.

I saw him as a man who knew how to adore a woman. A man who knew how to make a woman crave him.

When his wandering lips found mine, he kissed me deeply. Our tongues tangled, my hands finding his hair immediately. We tilted our head in the opposite direction, switching between lips.

The kiss was passionate, intense and arousing. I could feel my core aching for another round.

Fuck.

Why was it starting to grow even more difficult to kill him?

He suddenly broke the kiss, cupping my face, “You good? How did that feel?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

How did that feel? That felt like the most amazing sex I'd ever had.

He knew when to make me beg, when to push harder, when to slow down. This was the kind of man I'd spent my whole life searching for. The wannabe dominant men I'd met at clubs couldn't even make me cum twice. Yet he did that, easily.

But I knew men like Rocco very well. The moment they knew just how much you loved their strokes, they'd take advantage of it.

A small smile curled around my lips, “Not bad. You can do better though but I gotta go.”

Hearing that, he pulled out of me, taking the empty bed space beside me. The next thing I heard were the clicking sounds of his cupboard opening. He pulled out a small card, extending it towards me.

“My card. Call me.”

I sat myself up on the bed, crossing my arms, “I'm not doing that.”

“That wasn't a request, love.”

My insides squirmed from the sound of that. Soft-dominant men were surely going to be the end of me.

Without uttering any more words, I took the card from him. I turned away from him, picking my clothes from the floor.

While I was busy wearing my clothes, Rocco was busy lighting up a cigarette. The smell of tar wafted through the air. I reached for my bag on the cream couch, preparing to leave when Rocco's voice stopped me.

“Really? Three trucks?” He asked, making me glance over my shoulders.

Rocco lifted the phone to his ears, chuckling right after.

“Great. Strike again tonight. Make it ten trucks. That jerk would run out of business soon and I will reign.” He stated, pride evident in his tone.

My jaws clenched as the feeling of shame clung to my skin. I was supposed to kill this man, instead I ended up having sex with him. Now, he was going to steal from Don Niko later again tonight.

What kind of worker did that make me? Don Niko didn't save me from the hands of death only for me to betray him like this.

‘You already messed up. Retrace your fucking steps Thalia,’ my innervoice urged me, making me slip my hands into my bag.

My fingers curled tightly around the gun, my heart fluttering with fear as I slowly pulled it out. In my three years of murdering people, I'd never felt so scared to shoot someone.

Christ.

Was this what it felt like to be dickmatized?

I discarded the thought.

I wasn't weak. I wasn't sentimental. It was just sex and nothing more. It didn't change the fact that he was my target to assassinate.

Holding that thought, I lifted the gun in Rocco's direction, “Say your last prayers, Rocco Ricci.”