Chapter 54 Showtime
Chapter fifty-four
Showtime
Marco
It’s finally the weekend, and tonight we’re going to the Natalia Hirsch art exhibition.
Sophia and I have survived our first full week of domestic bliss.
Unfortunately, there’s been far too little fucking and way too many hours spent working.
Even so, I’ve never felt more satisfied.
On the long days alternating between driving Chiara around and keeping tabs on other jobs, just knowing my girl would be waiting when I slide into bed—our bed—at the end of a long day sends a jolt of heat through my entire body.
The deep feeling of contentment that settles in my weary bones the moment I wrap my body around hers is priceless.
Nothing compares to the way she pushes her round ass back into me until it’s molded to my lap, legs weaving under and over until we’re satisfyingly tangled and my dick is nestled between her full cheeks.
It’s this position we find ourselves in this morning.
Our bodies fused in such a way it’s hard to tell where she starts and I end.
But unlike the rest of the week, there’s no rush to get out the door, so instead of trying to slip out of bed without waking her, I do the exact opposite, hoping to slip right in instead.
I band my arm tighter around her hips to pull her closer, inhaling the rich notes of coffee and caramelized brown sugar that seem to infuse her skin and hair and linger on my sheets and every surface of this house.
A comforting reminder she’s here even when she’s not.
As if on cue, she pushes her ass further into me and my morning wood.
I groan against her neck, placing a kiss on the sensitive spot just under her ear, and kiss my way down to her collarbone.
She’s breaking my number one bedroom commandment by wearing one of my tees to bed instead of sleeping naked, but she’s bare underneath so I’ll let it slide.
I bunch the fabric up around her waist so I can feel as much skin on skin as possible.
Her sleepy little moans tell me she’s on board with this wake-up call.
Reaching around, I gently trail my fingertips over her toned stomach, dipping them lower until I find the heat I’ve been craving.
I drag a finger through the wetness that already pools there, listening as her breathing turns from steady to ragged.
I fuse my lips over hers, paying no mind to her murmured worries about morning breath, and kiss her slow and steady, enjoying the fact we have nowhere to race to.
She rocks back into me, wordlessly spurring me on and asking for more friction all at once.
I circle her clit, one, two, three times, growing impossibly hard and more impatient than I normally am because I’ve missed this.
Missed the surge of warmth that comes from someplace soul deep whenever we’re connected like this.
Without pausing the strum of her clit, I thrust up as she pushes back, gaining entrance easily, the hitch of her breath telling me she’s excited to welcome me.
We move in sync, slow and rhythmic, letting our bodies do the talking.
My deep, low moans and her sweet, high whimpers of satisfaction signal we’ve nearly reached the peak of the climb.
I feel Sophia lean slightly more onto her stomach, and the slight change of angle spurs me on.
I grab the top side of her waist like an anchor, thrusting with more force.
Faster. More frantic. Mirrored in the sounds echoing around us.
Hitting deeper and filling her up completely as she comes with a cry, and I finally succumb to the intense orgasm that zips through me and leaves me quaking around her.
She turns in my arms so we’re face to face, her laughter bringing me back to earth.
“Well good morning to you too, Daddy,” she says with a cheeky smile.
I plant a kiss to her forehead, chuckling at the memory of having to sit through another week of Chiara’s audio porn.
I made the mistake of asking her what she was listening to one morning, and that opened an entirely new can of worms. One that involved a mask-wearing, thirst trap TikToker finding, stalking, and falling in love with the woman who kept leaving him equally thirsty comments.
I’m still concerned about the romance this girl is into, but for the best part of this week, Chiara has kept me busy driving her around for meetings for tonight’s exhibition and doing all the regular things girls enjoy while on a trip to New York: shopping, brunching at Russ & Daughters Cafe, and beauty appointments.
She’s mostly been traveling solo since Arabella has been preoccupied with the coordination of tonight’s event, a given considering her family’s media empire is sponsoring and featuring the artist in their publications.
From what I can gather, and what little Luca will offer when I try to grill him after what happened, she’s thrown herself into work, trying to keep busy and out of gossip columns for the wrong reasons.
Like Sophia’s dad, her father is a powerful man concerned with image.
Chiara mentioned to me that the recent blog blast did not go down well and almost lost Arabella the responsibility of running the entire event she has spent months meticulously planning.
She was devastated but managed to reason with her dad.
I settle back on my pillow as Sophia launches into her plans for the day and night.
The morning light catches on the subtle sheen of sweat coating her skin and bouncing around her face, making her appear angelic.
Personally, I’d sell my soul to just to stay right here, basking in the glow of bliss, a happy, safe, and carefree Sophia occupying all my attention.
Unfortunately that daydream is promptly shattered by the plans she’s laying out that very much don’t include me.
“Okay, so I added Chiara to my group chat with the girls. We’ve got a whole day planned out.
Brunch, shopping, and nail appointments.
Then we’ll split up to get ready before heading to Le Sip for cocktails around five.
We’ll head to the photography exhibition and then we’ll make our way to Bella Donna to dance the night away. ”
I don’t get a word in edgewise, and it’s abundantly clear I’m going to have to occupy myself. I’m also concerned about all the red flags I’m seeing with this plan. The main one being how not under the radar they will fly—four ravishing women dolled up and dressed to kill.
“Not fucking happening,” I say. “We’ve managed to stay out of the media for a week, and I’d love to keep it that way. Every photographer and media outlet with skin in the game will be at tonight’s high-profile event. They will be on you like flies on shit.”
“Um. Excuse me? This,” she says, waving a hand around us, her defiant streak on full display, “is not what I meant when I called you Daddy.”
“That plan is fraught with problems,” I drawl calmly, lazily moving my hands behind my head. “The main one being that you’re basically painting a target on your back and inviting attention. That is the very thing I’m trying to avoid.” Leaving off, so nobody gets fucking hurt, or worse yet, killed.
She chokes a laugh, but it lacks humor. Ah, yep.
There it is. Brat mode: activated. She huffs in exasperation as she angrily moves to straddle me, bracing her hands on my shoulders and training her fiery eyes on mine, holding my undivided attention.
It’s like a shot to the other part of me that wants her undivided attention all the time, too. But she’s not having a bit of it.
“Firstly, you can tell your dick to simmer right down, cause he’s in a time out.” She adds a little roll of hips to add insult to the punishment she’s doled out to me.
“Sec-ond-ly,” she says with an agitated prod to the middle of my chest as she draws out each sound. “Let me set the record straight. I’m nobody’s fool. And no. Not even this impossibly chiseled chest, tattoo on full display, is going to save you today.”
Fuck, she’s got me. I may have tried to thirst trap her by shamelessly flashing her my chest.
“I may have happily agreed to live with you, even let you boss me around when you fuck me, and let’s not fucking forget, let Avery drive me around.
But do not mistake that for weakness. I’m capable of seeing the bigger picture.
Of making sound decisions to keep harm from coming to me and the people I love and care for. ”
I wish I could tell her that Arty finally got a taste of his own medicine this week when he least expected it.
Avery ran the security footage we pulled from the fight at Bella Donna through high-tech facial recognition software, and it revealed it was Rizzo’s boys who started the fight at Bella Donna.
The clincher? The instruction did not come from Rizzo.
Looks like these dirty fuckers were on the take from Arty behind Rizzo’s back.
Let’s just say, Rizzo did not take kindly to being double-crossed.
He dealt with his men, but he gave AJ free rein to even the score on one condition—fuck him up, but don’t kill him.
That’s the thing about the underworld, you’re always just one mutually beneficial deal away from going from enemies to partners in crime.
From my debrief with AJ about the injuries Arty sustained in his “mystery fall,” I’ll be surprised if he turns up at the exhibition tonight at all.
Sophia mentioned he canceled one of their Law Gala planning meetings this week due to illness.
It took all my very best acting skills to keep the Cheshire cat grin from my face—the same one threatening to spread over my face now as I watch my girlfriend try to lay down the rules.
“Which brings me to point number three,” she says, trying to maintain a stern tone, which comes out husky and sexy by account of just having woken instead.
“I know we started out on shaky ground after those photos came out, but I have taken Chiara under my wing. Something tells me she doesn’t have many good female friends she can depend on.
If she’s hanging out with me and the girls, maybe she’ll tell me what the deal is about why tonight means so much to her.
From what I can gather, she doesn’t trust easily.
Oh, also, she offered you as tribute—you’re our designated driver tonight. ”
The twitch of a bemused smirk on her lips threatens to crack her tough girl act.
I attempt to disarm her with a kiss, lifting my body to try and capture her lips.
But she maintains the distance she’s put between us by pushing back on her still braced arms. “Nuh, uh, uh,” she taunts with a sultry swivel of her hips, which sends me slipping and sliding through the spot I’ve been temporarily locked out of.
“You’ve gotta earn my kisses back.” Then she dismounts, abandoning me and my now very worked-up dick.
I shake my head and laugh. This woman is a force of nature.
For all the ways I crumble her defenses, she still possesses the fire to make me burn in the wake of her defiance.
I wouldn’t have her any other way. The push and pull.
The way she’ll go toe-to-toe with me, driven by her convictions.
It’s always been the biggest fucking turn-on.
My only concern is that, when she joins forces Captain Planet-style with the three other hellions in her posse, I’m going to be completely out-numbered and entirely out-sassed.
“Oh, and one last thing,” she adds nonchalantly as she strips off my t-shirt and throws me a look over her shoulder that might just give me third-degree burns.
“I’ve organized for us to enter the exhibition through the staff entrance via the basement.
You know how those paparazzi are. Like flies on shit.
” With that, she heads for the shower, locking the bathroom door behind her and sealing my fate. I’m not getting seconds this morning.