9. Quiet Before the Storm

CHAPTER 9

QUIET BEFORE THE STORM

The Rossetti family's Hamptons estate sprawled before them, a gleaming beacon of opulence against the backdrop of manicured lawns and swaying palms. Rocco felt the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as Victor's sleek black Audi purred up the winding driveway. After weeks of intense planning and near-constant vigilance, this forced retreat felt almost like a vacation.

Almost.

"Remember why we're here," Victor's deep voice rumbled from the driver's seat, as if reading Rocco's thoughts. "This isn't a holiday, princess. We've got work to do."

Rocco rolled his eyes, unable to resist the urge to needle his stoic protector. "Lighten up, old man. Even soldiers need R&R sometimes."

Victor's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. "And brats need a firm hand to keep them in line. Don't push me, little one."

Heat pooled in Rocco's belly at the warning in Victor's tone. He'd been walking a dangerous line with the older man lately, testing the boundaries of their... whatever this was between them. Protector and charge? Dom and sub? Or something deeper, more primal?

As they pulled up to the grand entrance, Rocco's mind flashed back to their heated encounter in the warehouse. The memory of Victor's body pressed against his, all coiled strength and barely leashed violence, made his cock twitch with interest.

"You coming?" Victor's gruff voice snapped Rocco out of his reverie. The older man stood by the open car door, one eyebrow arched in silent challenge.

Rocco smirked, unable to resist the double entendre. "Not yet, Daddy. But the night's still young."

Victor's eyes darkened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. For a moment, Rocco thought he might haul him out of the car and bend him over the hood right there. But Victor just exhaled sharply, turning on his heel.

"Inside. Now."

Rocco scrambled to obey, his body thrumming with anticipation. He trailed after Victor into the cool interior of the mansion, drinking in the familiar sights and scents of his childhood summer home.

"Your father's study is through there," Victor said, gesturing towards a heavy oak door. "He left some files for us to review. I'll do a perimeter check and meet you in an hour."

Before Rocco could protest, Victor was gone, leaving him alone in the cavernous foyer. With a sigh, he made his way to the study, resigning himself to an afternoon of tedious paperwork.

An hour later, Rocco's head was swimming with facts and figures. He leaned back in the plush leather chair, rubbing his tired eyes. The soft click of the door opening had him straightening, expecting Victor's imposing presence.

Instead, a petite woman with an armful of fresh linens bustled in. "Oh!" she exclaimed, startled to find the room occupied. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rossetti. I didn't realize you'd arrived."

Rocco waved away her apology with an easy smile. "No worries, Rosa. And please, call me Rocco. Mr. Rossetti is my father."

Rosa relaxed slightly, returning his smile. "Of course, Rocco. It's good to have you here. Will you be needing anything special for dinner?"

Before Rocco could respond, a shadow fell across the doorway. Victor loomed there, his expression thunderous. "That will be all, Rosa. Mr. Rossetti and I will take our meals in private."

The housekeeper scurried out, clearly intimidated by Victor's forbidding presence. Rocco frowned, irritation flaring in his chest.

"Was that really necessary?" he snapped. "Rosa's practically family."

Victor's eyes narrowed as he advanced into the room, radiating dangerous energy. "And you're practically naked. What the fuck are you thinking, parading around like that?"

Rocco glanced down, realizing he'd shed his button-down at some point, leaving him in just a thin white undershirt. The material clung to his lean torso, doing little to hide the peaks of his nipples in the air-conditioned room.

"It's hot," Rocco said with a shrug, deliberately stretching to emphasize the play of muscles beneath his shirt. "Besides, what do you care? Jealous, Daddy?"

In an instant, Victor was on him. Large hands gripped Rocco's biceps, hauling him out of the chair and slamming him against the bookcase. Leather-bound tomes rained down around them as Victor pressed the full length of his body against Rocco's smaller frame.

"You think this is a game?" Victor growled, his breath hot against Rocco's ear. "You have no idea the effect you have, do you? Prancing around like a little tease, testing my control."

Rocco's heart raced, arousal warring with a delicious hint of fear. This was what he'd been pushing for, what he craved. Victor unleashed, all that carefully contained power focused solely on him.

"Then show me," Rocco challenged, rolling his hips against the solid wall of Victor's abs. "Show me what happens when Daddy loses control."

For a heartbeat, the world stood still. Then Victor's mouth crashed down on his, all teeth and tongue and bruising intensity. Rocco moaned into the kiss, surrendering completely to the onslaught.

Victor's hands were everywhere, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He gripped Rocco's ass, kneading the firm flesh as he ground their hips together. Rocco could feel the impressive length of Victor's cock pressing against his stomach, a promise of exquisite pleasure to come.

"Is this what you wanted, baby boy?" Victor rasped, breaking the kiss to trail bites down Rocco's throat. "Wanted Daddy to mark you up, claim you as his?"

"Yes," Rocco gasped, tilting his head to give Victor better access. "Please, Daddy. Need you so bad."

Victor growled, the sound vibrating through Rocco's chest. In one fluid motion, he spun Rocco around, bending him over the massive oak desk. Cool wood pressed against Rocco's overheated skin as Victor blanketed him from behind.

"Such a naughty little thing," Victor murmured, his hands sliding under Rocco's shirt to caress the planes of his back. "Always pushing, always testing. I think it's time Daddy taught you a lesson in obedience."

Rocco whimpered as Victor's fingers found his nipples, twisting the sensitive nubs until they ached. "Please," he begged, beyond shame or pride. "I'll be good, I promise. Just need you inside me."

Victor chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down Rocco's spine. "Oh, I'll give you what you need, baby. But first, you're going to learn some patience."

His large hand wrapped around Rocco's throat, applying just enough pressure to make breathing a conscious effort. Rocco's pulse quickened, arousal spiking at the controlled display of dominance.

"Good, baby boy?" Victor growled, his eyes searching Rocco's face.

"Good," Rocco gasped, melting into Victor's touch. "So good, Daddy."

Victor's free hand trailed down Rocco's body, ghosting over sensitive skin until he reached the straining bulge in Rocco's slacks. He palmed Rocco's cock roughly, drawing a strangled moan from the younger man.

"Here's how this is going to work, little one," Victor purred, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm going to edge you until you're begging for release. And if you come without permission..." He tightened his grip on Rocco's throat for emphasis. "Well, let's just say Daddy will be very disappointed."

Rocco whimpered, torn between fear and desperate arousal. "Yes, Daddy. I'll be good, I promise."

Victor's smirk was predatory as he freed Rocco's aching cock. He stroked it with agonizing slowness, building the pleasure in increments. Just as Rocco felt his orgasm approaching, Victor's hand stilled.

"No," Rocco whined, hips bucking fruitlessly. "Please, Daddy, I'm so close."

"I know, baby," Victor soothed, his grip on Rocco's throat loosening slightly. "But good boys wait for Daddy's permission. Can you be patient for me?"

Rocco nodded frantically, tears of frustration pricking at his eyes. Victor rewarded him with a tender kiss before resuming his torturous ministrations.

Again and again, Victor brought Rocco to the brink only to deny him release. Rocco was a trembling, incoherent mess, reduced to broken pleas and desperate whimpers.

"Please," he sobbed, beyond shame or pride. "Please, Daddy, I can't take it anymore. Need to come so bad."

Victor's eyes softened, a hint of tenderness breaking through the dominant facade. "You've been so good for me, baby," he murmured, pressing kisses to Rocco's tear-stained cheeks. "Such a perfect little boy. Do you think you've earned your reward?"

"Yes," Rocco gasped, clinging to Victor like a lifeline. "Please, Daddy. I'll do anything, just let me come."

Victor's hand tightened on Rocco's throat once more as he stroked faster, building the pleasure to a fever pitch. "Come for me, little one," he commanded. "Show Daddy how good I make you feel."

The dual sensations of Victor's hand on his cock and the controlled pressure on his throat sent Rocco hurtling over the edge. He came with a hoarse cry, vision whiting out as ecstasy crashed over him in waves.

Victor's eyes darkened with renewed hunger. "My turn now, little one. On your knees."

Rocco shivered at the command, sinking to the plush carpet without hesitation. He looked up at Victor through his lashes, mouth watering at the impressive bulge straining against the older man's slacks.

"Can I taste you, Daddy?" Rocco asked, voice breathy with want.

Victor's hand fisted in Rocco's curls, tugging just shy of painful. "Since you asked so nicely," he growled. "Show Daddy what that pretty mouth can do."

With trembling fingers, Rocco freed Victor's cock. He moaned at the sight, thick and veined and already leaking at the tip. Without preamble, Rocco swallowed him down, relishing Victor's sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck," Victor hissed, his grip tightening in Rocco's hair. "That's it, baby. Take it all for me."

Rocco hollowed his cheeks, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm. He'd always prided himself on his oral skills, but with Victor, he wanted to excel. Wanted to reduce the usually stoic man to a trembling mess.

Victor's hips began to move, fucking into Rocco's willing mouth with increasing fervor. "So good for me," he praised, voice rough with arousal. "Such a perfect little cocksucker. Born to take Daddy's dick, weren't you?"

Rocco whimpered around Victor's length, arousal spiking at the filthy words. He redoubled his efforts, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head before taking Victor to the root once more.

"Shit," Victor growled, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Gonna come, baby. You ready to swallow Daddy's load?"

Rocco looked up, meeting Victor's heated gaze as he nodded as best he could with his mouth full. The sight seemed to push Victor over the edge. With a guttural groan, he came, flooding Rocco's mouth with bitter heat.

Rocco swallowed greedily, milking Victor's cock until the older man gently pushed him away, oversensitive. He sat back on his heels, lips swollen and chin slick with spit and come.

Victor hauled him up, claiming Rocco's mouth in a searing kiss. "Fucking perfect," he murmured against Rocco's lips. "My good boy. So proud of you, baby."

Rocco preened under the praise, nuzzling into Victor's neck with a contented sigh. "Thank you, Daddy," he mumbled. "Love making you feel good."

Victor's arms tightened around him, a possessive growl rumbling in his chest. "You always make me feel good, little one. In more ways than you know."

They stood like that for long moments, basking in the afterglow. Finally, Victor pressed a tender kiss to Rocco's forehead. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get cleaned up."

As they showered together, trading lazy kisses and gentle touches, Rocco couldn't help but marvel at the shift in their dynamic. This thing between them had started as purely physical, a way to blow off steam and satisfy mutual attraction. But now...

"What are you thinking about?" Victor asked, his hands massaging shampoo into Rocco's scalp.

Rocco leaned into the touch, humming contentedly. "Just... this. Us. What happens when we go back to the city?"

Victor's movements stilled for a moment before resuming. "What do you want to happen?"

Rocco bit his lip, suddenly unsure. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just know I don't want it to end."

Victor turned Rocco to face him, cupping his cheek with a soapy hand. "It doesn't have to," he said softly. "What we have... it's more than just this place, Rocco. If you want it to be."

Hope bloomed in Rocco's chest, fragile but persistent. "I do," he whispered. "Want you. All of you."

Victor's smile was tender as he leaned in for a gentle kiss. "Then you have me, baby. For as long as you'll have me."

They finished showering in comfortable silence, the air between them charged with newfound understanding. As they dressed, Rocco couldn't stop sneaking glances at Victor, marveling at the shift in their relationship.

"We should probably review those files your father left," Victor said, ever the professional. "Make sure we're up to speed on the latest intel."

Rocco groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. "Do we have to? I can think of much more interesting ways to spend our evening."

Victor's expression softened, a hint of fondness breaking through his usually stoic facade. "I know, baby. But we can't forget why we're here. The family is counting on us."

Guilt twisted in Rocco's gut. He knew Victor was right, knew the weight of responsibility that rested on both their shoulders. But a part of him longed to stay in this bubble, where the outside world couldn't touch them.

"Fine," he sighed, sitting up with exaggerated reluctance. "But you owe me a proper date night when this is all over. Fancy dinner, dancing, the works."

Victor's smile was tender as he cupped Rocco's cheek. "Anything you want, little one. Sky's the limit."

They spent the next few hours poring over financial reports and surveillance logs, piecing together a clearer picture of Bianchi's recent movements. As the night wore on, Rocco found himself struggling to focus, his mind drifting to the events of the day.

The shrill ring of Victor's cell phone shattered the peaceful atmosphere. Victor cursed, fishing the device from his pocket with a scowl.

"This better be important," he growled into the receiver. His expression darkened as he listened, jaw clenching tight enough to crack teeth.

"Understood. Lock it down. We'll be there in an hour." He ended the call, meeting Rocco's questioning gaze with grim determination. "Get dressed. We need to move."

Rocco's stomach dropped, dread coiling in his gut. "What happened?"

Victor's eyes were cold, all traces of post-coital softness gone. "Bianchi made his move. The Casino Royale is under siege."

Panic clawed at Rocco's throat as the implications sank in. The Casino Royale was one of the family's most lucrative operations, a cornerstone of their empire. If Bianchi had taken it...

"My plan," Rocco whispered, horror dawning. "He must have found out somehow. This is all my fault."

Victor gripped Rocco's shoulders, forcing him to meet his steely gaze. "Listen to me. This isn't on you. Bianchi's been gunning for us for months. But we're going to handle it, you hear me? Together."

Rocco nodded, drawing strength from Victor's unwavering confidence. As they hurriedly dressed and gathered their weapons, Rocco couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change. The quiet interlude of the past few hours felt like a dream, a stolen moment of peace before the storm.

Whatever came next, Rocco knew one thing for certain: he wasn't letting Victor face it alone. They were in this together, for better or worse.

As they peeled out of the driveway, tires squealing in protest, Rocco's mind raced with possibilities. The Casino Royale wasn't just a source of income—it was a symbol of the Rossetti family's power and influence. Losing it would be a devastating blow, one they might not recover from.

But more than that, Rocco worried about the collateral damage. How many of their people were trapped inside? How far would Bianchi go to prove his dominance?

Rocco glanced at Victor's profile, etched in grim determination. The older man's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. In that moment, Rocco saw past the gruff exterior to the man beneath—loyal, protective, and utterly devoted to his duty.

As they sped towards an uncertain future, Rocco made a silent vow. Whatever it took, whatever sacrifices he had to make, he would see this through. For his family, for Victor, and for the chance at a future he was only just beginning to imagine.

The storm was coming. And they would weather it together.