Chapter 34 The Sweetest Homecoming
Chapter thirty-four
The Sweetest Homecoming
Marco
“Hi,” she whispers. “I came.”
Without hesitation, I put my hands on her waist and pull her body into mine.
“That’s better,” I say, smiling down at her.
We’re so close I can feel the small puffs of her breath laced with mint as she looks up at me.
Our lips almost touch, the sliver of space that remains in between buzzing and fizzing like popping candy.
“I’m sorry about tonight, baby. I should’ve been there sooner. I never should have even let there be an opportunity for him to be alone with you.” Anger tears through me again at the thought of what might have been if Arty had succeeded with his plan.
The last six years to get here has been the longest fucking countdown of my life, but knowing how good we could be together then forcing myself to cease communication these past few weeks has frayed my patience.
My want for Sophia is a real, living and breathing thing, seconds away from boiling over, especially now with her this close.
Pulling back slightly, she places a finger on my lips to silence me.
“Shhhhh. I don’t want to think about anyone else right now.
Or the what-ifs or could-have-beens. I’ve done enough agonizing and running scenarios.
Not just these last few weeks, but the entire time I’ve been gone.
” She takes pause, drawing the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth, like she’s sense-checking her decision to come here and if she’s going to go through with what she wants to say next.
“I want you. I want us. I want to be all the fucking way in too.”
I want to crush her, devour her right on the spot at the sound of her words. Instead, I ease her in gently.
“Are you sure you’ve had enough time to think? I don’t want to rush this.”
In response, she cocks her head at me and rolls her eyes. “Is that a serious question, Marco-Boy?”
“Okay. Okay. If you’re done thinking, can I kiss you now?” I ask with a cheeky smile.
Her responding melodious laugh is music to my ears. “Hmm…considering I know the wicked things you can do with that mouth, this feels like a honey trap.”
I smile against her soft lips before placing a slow, sweet kiss there, knowing full well that as soon as she takes that final step—into my home, my arms, my bed, my heart—we will make the best kind of bad decisions, and I’ll prove to her in every way I’m a good choice. Now and maybe forever. No regrets.
“Oh, believe me, I plan to do many more wicked things to you,” I growl out.
“But you’re calling the shots, baby, so we’ll take it at your pace.
You want to go slower? I’ll be the best goddamn pet snail you’ve ever had.
I’ve got nowhere to be and nothing but time this weekend.
What do you say, Kitten? Come inside with me? ”
She lifts onto her tippy toes and wraps her hands around my neck. “Have to say, you’re the sexiest goddamn snail I’ve ever seen.”
Pushing any residual indecision aside, she presses her body flush with mine and kisses me back hard.
It’s like she’s trying to check I’m real and that this moment is not a figment of her imagination.
She breathes me in like I’m her oxygen. Like I’m the air she needs to survive.
She’s already going to make a liar out of me.
I’m one hundred per cent the shittiest snail there ever was.
Before she can pull away, I thread my fingers through her hair and hold her firmly in place so I can prolong our kiss.
Coaxing the seam of her lips apart with my tongue, I slowly and sensually swirl it with hers.
It’s intentional and deep, laced with a promise of all the ways I will worship her body tonight, tomorrow, always.
I finally walk us both inside and close the door with my foot, never once breaking our kiss.
I tug at the sleeve of her coat around my neck, and she gets the memo immediately, shrugging out of one side and replacing her arm back around my neck while she lets me pull off the other side.
I let it drop to the floor unceremoniously, turning and pinning her to the wall, pressing the hard planes of my body to every soft, glorious curve of hers.
Sophia takes more of the control she craves, plundering my mouth with kisses.
Faster, deeper, clashing tongues and teeth.
Like she’s making up for every time she wished we could’ve kissed. I want them all. Every single one.
Her sweet groans fill my mouth and it sets off tingles over my entire body, my already half-hard cock now fully at attention.
I run my hands down her side, and she arches her back off the wall, seeking more friction and baring her neck to me.
It’s like a red flag to a bull, and I take back control, pinning her hands above her head as I kiss and bite my way down her neck.
I use one hand to unbutton her shirt so I can expose her collarbone and kiss all the way along it to her shoulder and back again.
I bring my lips to her pulse point, finding it fluttering like the wings of a thousand butterflies, the sensation sending reverberations through me, spurring on my rabid need to mark her as mine.
Kiss. Bite. Suck. Lick. She’s my masterpiece and her smooth skin is my canvas.
I make sure to take my time creating the most magnificent art, peppering her skin with my glistening bite marks, blooming the prettiest shade of red.
Her gasps and mewls with each sensation make my entire body buzz. My cock pulses like it has its own heartbeat. I’m going to come in my pants if we don’t slow down for real.
Reluctantly breaking our kiss, I rest my forehead against hers. “Kitten, I think there’s been some confusion. Is this what you call going slow?”
“Fuck going slow,” she says on a pant. “We’ve waited long enough. Please Marco…just fuck me.”
I don’t disagree, but I think it’s mighty cute she thinks she’s in control.
I let go of the reins a little because I know she craves order and control to quell the spiral of her inner monologue, but now that she’s fully on board with us taking the next step, I’m taking back the reins.
She doesn’t realize it yet, but her body craves giving over control to someone else—and from now on, that somebody will be me. Only me.
“Oh baby, there will be fucking,” I rasp, low and dark.
“Just…” Kiss. “Not...” Bite. “Yet.” Suck.
She whines in protest, and I tighten the hold on her wrists, watching her eyes flare.
“There’s a few things we need to cross off the agenda first,” I continue, using my free hand to unzip her fitted skirt.
It falls to the floor, pooling at her feet still clad in her red-soled high heels.
She kicks it away, and now she’s only in sheer tights and nothing else.
The ones I gifted her. My heart swells at the sight; she fucking missed me too.
“Hmmmm. Are you wearing the tights I got you so you wouldn’t forget how good it felt when I tore them from your body and feasted on your pussy?
” I murmur into the sensitive spot just below her ear.
“Maybe,” she sasses, trying to stifle a moan, except her quickening pulse tells me she might come from my filthy words alone.
“Did you fantasize about what I would do the next time? Because I can promise you it will pale in comparison to all the ways I’m going to make you scream.
” Before she can get a word out, I press my front to hers again, and we kiss like two people ending a famine, and in many ways we are.
The raw feelings behind every kiss and every touch are the culmination of years of unrequited longing and suppressed desires.
I want to erase the memory of any other man’s hands, mouth, and cock on her.
In her. My hand encircling her wrists tightens at the visceral memory of punching a bag until my knuckles bled when I found out she spent the night at Aiden’s dorm the first time.
I hated her for it. But I have no right.
Letting her go was one thing, but keeping tabs on her from afar was a double-edged sword—a way to feel close to her even when I couldn’t have her and a reminder she was moving on without me.
I hate Aiden Cohen even more. He doesn’t even know of my existence, yet if I ever find myself in the same room as him, I’ll break every finger on his hands and his arms for good measure as punishment for touching what’s always been mine.
I bite down hard on her bottom lip, and she returns serve by sucking my tongue into her mouth.
One, two, three times before releasing it and moving to pepper my jaw with open-mouthed kisses.
I let go of her wrists, and she immediately drops them to the hem of my top.
I comply with her unspoken command and lift my arms in the air, letting her strip it from my body.
She tosses it to the floor on top of her skirt, then wastes no time getting rid of her shirt and bra.
I’d hoped we’d make it to the bedroom, but after years of waiting, I wanted things to play out in their own primal way.
Sophia is now standing in front of me in nothing but her sheer tights, her bare pussy and peaked nipples on full display.
I drink her in, never wanting to forget how she looks, goddess-like, in this moment with her tousled hair framing her face, and her flushed cheeks and swollen lips rosy and the perfect shade of horny.
Missing the connection, I grab her by the hips and bring her bare body flush with mine, the sensation of skin on skin making my cock throb.
She snakes one hand between us and palms me over my pants, rubbing and kneading at my erection.
“Marco, I want to…let me take care of you. I need to touch you. I’ve waited too long to know what you taste like,” she breathes out.