Chapter 32
CHAPTER 32
SOPHIE
T he kids are in bed, and as soon as Mom is out the door, Will and I collide.
We’re urgent, a mess of tongues and teeth and shaky breaths, my hand weaving through his soft hair while his grips greedily at the skin of my thigh.
He loves me.
In our fevered haze, we make our way to my bedroom, barely stopping to breathe. I want him all at once, the hunger so ravenous it nearly hurts.
Without breaking our contact, I tug at his shirt, and for a moment we have to come apart so I can successfully pull it over his head. He makes the most of the moment to unceremoniously rip off my sweater, his fingers immediately trailing to unclip my bra, setting my skin ablaze.
A soft moan escapes my lips when he takes my nipple in his mouth, sending a rush of pleasure coursing through me. His other hand tugs at my jeans while I do the same with his. If we could burn away the layers keeping us apart, we would.
When there’s no fabric left between us, I sit on the edge of the bed; Will moves in tandem with me, fevered for contact, just like I am.
A thought rushes through me. “Wait.” Panting, I grip his wrist before he can pull on the skin of my underwear. He stops moving obediently.
“What it is?” His voice is hoarse.
“I …” My cheeks flush with heat. But I can tell him. I know I’m safe. “For once, I want to give up my control.” I slip away from his grasp, just long enough to pick something up from the ground. It hangs from my fingers, a tantalizing promise of what’s to come.
The belt from my robe.
A flash of concern passes through Will’s dark eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t make me beg for it.” I shove the belt to his chest, and he gladly takes it, a smirk adorning his kiss-swollen lips. I back up further onto the bed and raise my arms above my head, close enough to one of the bed poles that Will can do what I want him to do.
Heeding my command, Will ties the belt around my wrists, and I can feel a tremor in his arms as he’s holding back. From our fevered touches, I know he’s as starved for me as I am for him.
The grip is tight, but not uncomfortable. I relax fully against the mattress, and at the sight of Will towering over me, his muscles taut, and all of him hard and ready, the pang between my legs cries out.
Will scootches closer to me, being careful not to touch me just yet. The heat coming off him is going to drive me insane. “What do you want?” he asks in a deep rasp.
“I want you to take control. Take what you want.” I tremble with anticipation. The cool air of the room brings goosebumps to my skin.
I want, for a moment, not to have it all together. To not be the one in charge. I didn’t think I would ever desire to lose control to anyone, let alone a man—not after Matt.
But Will makes me feel safe. Safer than I’ve felt in years.
Will closes his eyes and groans. When he opens them again, they’re bright with hunger. “I’ll take what’s mine.” Without hesitation, his strong hands grip my inner thighs to pry them apart, and I’m helpless to resist him, and I’ve never wanted anything more than for him to?—
A deep shudder passes through me when he sweeps his tongue over my centre, and for a moment, I see stars. I can’t move my hands or arms, but I can move my hips, and move them I do, tipping them toward his mouth. A low hum escapes his mouth, vibrating through me, eliciting a soft moan from my throat.
Will’s mouth against me is ravenous, and although it’s not the first time he’s doing this to me, he’s never been this primal. When his hands come into play, I resist the urge to cry out, instead honing in on the fireworks exploding within me.
“Will,” I breathe out, about to tip over. My arms pull against the restraints of their own volition, and the resistance I encounter, the complete loss of control, right as Will looks up at me with voracious eyes, is enough to push me over the edge.
I’m spiralling, completely losing myself, and Will is right there, pressing against me, holding onto me for dear life, guiding me through this tsunami that’s obliterating every single wall I had left. My body goes limp with relief, and for a moment, my vision blacks out.
Before the cloud dissipates, I feel the heat of Will’s body inching closer to mine before I see it. Every inch of my skin cries out to touch him. But before we come into contact, he leans back again, just long enough to grab a condom from the nightstand.
“God, Sophie, looking at you like this never gets old.” His voice comes out uneven, and his eyes travel up and down my body with reverence just before he leans forward and meets my lips.
“Then take me,” I breathe into his mouth. I gasp when he finally thrusts into me and buries his face into my neck.
I lean my head back, trying to move my hands to weave my fingers into Will’s hair, but of course I can’t. “Oh, fuck,” I moan, unable to form a coherent thought as Will recklessly slams into me, again and again.
“Sophie,” he gasps against my collarbone, his hands gripping my hips for leverage in his wild rhythm. He repeats my name with every thrust, his voice unravelling a little more each time, until it evolves into groans that spark an uncontrollable inferno within me.
Together, we detonate, our bodies and spirits melding into one, and I lose sight of where my body ends and where his begins. When he slows, we both remain motionless, our breathing hard, my muscles completely slack against the weight of him on me.
Will
When I gain control of my body again, I kiss Sophie’s forehead, bathing in the overwhelming warmth and light of being in her vicinity.
Sophie loves me.
I’m in awe of her bravery, of her vulnerability. Of how she just gave herself to me completely, more than she ever has before. But mostly, my senses are overtaken by a floating elation.
As softly as I can, I untie the restraints and kiss her wrists.
“I love you so fucking much, Sophie.”
I lie next to her, and she snuggles up close, her breathing still heavy. “I love you, too. Thank you for giving this to me.”
At that moment, I realize that I don’t just love Sophie. I love the sum of it all. I love us together. I love Gwen, who’s so loving and curious and lights up every room she walks into. I love Heather, so observant in her bashfulness, and so sweet it almost hurts. And I love Julian, who’s still so small, yet who I’d kill for if anyone dared to hurt him.
A sharp pain pierces my breastbone. This is what I sacrificed Océane for. Or at least, what I tried to sacrifice her for. Facing what was happening to her would have torn me apart because I couldn’t stand the idea of our perfect little family unit crumbling to pieces.
But my family was never ‘perfect.’ It was toxic, rotting all of us slowly from the inside, Océane crumbling away the fastest. I constantly ran, numbed myself, trying to escape reality, and for what?
All to protect the illusion of something that didn’t even exist.
But this woman here—this warm, flesh and blood angel snuggled in my arms, looking up at me with ocean-blue eyes threatening to drown me—she’s real.
This little bubble we’ve created over the last weeks is real. It exists. I can touch it, sense it, taste it, breathe it into my lungs and feed on it. And against all odds, it’s mine. Sophie loves me, and has willingly opened her heart and her family to let me in.
Willingly shown the most vulnerable parts of herself to me.
I’ve never had that. Not like this. All that time, as I tried to find love elsewhere, and as I shared my body with other women, nothing felt as transcendent as the complete vulnerability Sophie has given me.
I stroke her golden hair and close my eyes. Yes, this is real.
But Rachel is real, too.
Karan, Cayce, and Corey are real. They’re my family too.
Océane is real.
And I have to tell Sophie about her.
A tear prickles at my eye. Under my palm, I sense Sophie tensing up. “What’s wrong?” As soon as the tear drops across my cheek, Sophie’s soft hand wipes it away. “Will?”
I have to tell her. Even if it destroys us.
Even if she hates me after this.
I cradle her cheek, leaning my forehead against hers. “There’s something I need to tell you.”