Chapter 14 Sophia
SOPHIA
This is a weird dream. Nice, but weird.
Somebody is holding me from behind.
We’re lying down, and I’m the little spoon.
He is the very big spoon.
Muscles on muscles, he engulfs me, but I like it. It’s the safest I’ve felt in a long time.
Soft, warm breath on the back of my neck makes my eyes slowly open. That was too real to be a dream.
This isn’t my room.
It’s masculine, sleek.
And Dante’s.
Dante’s arm is around me, holding me in place against his granite chest, and his breath is on the back of my neck.
“Did I wake you up? Go back to sleep,” he mumbles in a thick, drowsy voice. “I should get moving, though.”
No way. I’m not going to wake up in this bed for the first time without an explanation. What happened last night? I remember sitting up on the couch, waiting for him. Worried as hell, wondering if I should call Dad until I reminded myself he probably wouldn’t answer. I’m not his problem anymore.
And then? I remember being held. Carried? I’ve never been any good at waking up right away, especially when I’m out cold. It takes me a little time.
He pulls back with a sigh like he’s ready to get out of bed, but I roll onto my back, touching his bulging shoulder to stop him. Jesus Christ, he’s not wearing a shirt. I slept next to this all night and didn’t have the first clue. Life is so unfair sometimes. “You brought me to bed with you.”
“Not much gets past you at this time of the morning, does it?” he asks with a smirk.
“Why did you do it, though?”
He settles back in on his elbow with the sheet slung low on his waist. He wore his boxers, the elastic is peeking out over the sheet’s hem. Damn, he’s breathing temptation. “Is it a problem?” he asks, yanking my attention away from his happy trail.
“No!” It bursts out of me like a secret somebody has held for too long. I’m not even sure why. I need him to understand this is the furthest thing from a problem. “No,” I repeat, softer this time. “Not a problem. I worried it was a problem for you, since we never actually slept together before.”
“Maybe that’s something we need to change.” I can hardly believe what’s happening. He reaches out, using the backs of his fingers to brush dark hair away from my cheek, where it got stuck while I slept. “We might need to change a few things because I like this.”
“I slept the whole night without opening my eyes once, so I’m guessing I liked it too.” I’m liking it now, as well. The way early morning sunlight dances over his exquisite muscles, highlighting them, makes me long to trace them with my fingers and tongue. Maybe the tongue part first.
The air is humming with electricity as he stretches his body out until he’s leaning over me. With his sleep-mussed hair and his scruffy cheeks, he’s like a tousled masterpiece. I can’t help but feast my eyes on him, and all that feasting only makes me want more.
“What about this?” he whispers, teasing my mouth with the slightest brush of his lips. How is it so easy for him to unlock the bottomless well of desire in me? That’s all it takes to make me lift my head from the pillow, hungry, greedy for more than just a tease.
His dark eyes twinkle, and I almost hate him for a second for knowing me so well. “I guess that’s my answer,” he growls. Something about it makes me giggle, but the sound turns into a sigh when he trails a hand down my chest and starts unbuttoning my pajama top without looking.
“You’re awfully good at that,” I whisper, shifting on the bed to slide my arms out of the sleeves.
“If you think that’s good, you should see what else I can do.” There’s a devilish grin on his face before he lowers his head to take one of my nipples into his mouth.
Oh, it’s magic.
My back arches, and I’m moaning his name before I know what’s happening. All I want to do is melt into his touch, and that’s exactly what happens while he strokes and fondles before tracing a line down the flat plane of my stomach and hooking a finger around my waistband.
My eyes open partway so I can watch him move down my body, chafing me with his stubble. His hair is soft and thick under my hand, and he growls when I tug it slightly. The sound runs through me, making me arch again before I lift my hips so he can get rid of my shorts and thong.
“You have the prettiest pussy,” he whispers as he drapes one of my legs over his shoulder and spreads me wide. Something about his words and the way he says them sends a fresh rush of warmth pouring from me. He watches, nostrils flaring, his jaw tightening before he whispers, “Fucking gorgeous.”
My entire body tenses in anticipation until the heat of his breath against my shaved mound makes me shiver a split second before his tongue laps my slit. Fuck, yes! All I can do is bend my leg to pull him in closer, telling him what I’m not brave enough to say in words.
But he goes with it, driving his tongue deeper, lavishing my clit with long laps that set fire to my core and make my toes curl. “Just like that,” I beg, humping his face. “Don’t stop. I’m so close, don’t stop!”
All it takes is the addition of his thick digits sliding inside me to make the tension break. The world explodes in color and light while one helpless moan after another fills the air. I don’t realize how tight I’m gripping the back of his head until he gently pulls my hands away.
“That was kind of fun.” He chuckles, getting up on his knees, pulling down his snug underwear so his rigid dick can spring free. The tip glistens in the sunlight and makes me lick my lips. Who is he turning me into?
Spreading my thighs wider, he adds, “Sort of like you were directing me with your hands. Tugging, pulling. So long as you leave some hair in my scalp, we should do that again.”
Again. Yes, I like that idea, just as much as I like it when he fills me with one sure stroke from his thick member.
“So good,” I whine, arching against him again, giving him all of me.
I can’t get enough of him. My hands roam his shoulders and chest, while he takes me by the hips and holds them still so he can work me the way he likes it.
“The best,” he agrees with a brief smile before his teeth grind. “So fucking tight. Built for my cock.”
“That’s right. Keep talking,” I beg, pulling Dante in with my legs around his ass, fucking him while he fucks me.
Is that what we’re doing? Or is there something more in the way he smiles down at me, and his hands take ownership of every inch of skin they touch? The way we move together is like a choreography we’ve practiced before.
How is it this good? I can think about that later.
All I can think about now is the wave that’s building, filling my awareness, wiping out everything else. My hands slide along the soft sheets, twisting them as the tension grows.
“So wet. I feel you dripping down my balls.” He pants, then groans the way I do. “You do like that, don’t you? You get tighter. You flutter around me.”
“Oh, yeah,” I whimper. “I love it.”
“And do you like it when I play with your clit?” My pleasure doubles at the touch of his thumb to my bundle of nerves, running in circles over the sensitive tip until it’s all too much, and I strain, tensing all over, holding my breath.
“Come for me,” he urges before I do as I’m told. It’s explosive, but nothing is stopping me from shouting it all out. Nothing is holding me back. He wants to hear it, I know he does.
“Fuck, yeah… yeah… milk my cock, baby…” And then he loses himself, slamming deep one last time before filling me.
He’s so helpless, and maybe that’s the hottest thing of all.
Watching this controlled, disciplined man with so much power at his fingertips as he loses himself in what we’ve created together.
I’m still dazed when he pulls out and rolls to the side, flopping onto his back. A thin layer of perspiration coats his skin, and he’s breathing heavily, but he chuckles as he turns his head to look at me. “And there’s my workout for the morning,” he decides.
“You were talking about needing to get moving, weren’t you?”
“It’s called multitasking.” Propping himself on his elbow again, he gives me a soft, lingering kiss before grinning. “I’m starving. And I can’t remember the last time I gave anyone food poisoning. How about I make some breakfast?”
Did I actually wake up this morning, or is this all a dream?
Where is it coming from? He’s never been this playful before, almost affectionate.
It couldn’t all be because of what happened last night, could it?
Sudden shocks like that do have a way of bringing things into focus, I guess.
Is this what he wants to focus on? Starting his day in bed with me instead of going straight to the gym?
“What’s your specialty?” I ask. “Because I am a tough customer, especially at breakfast.”
“I think I can manage eggs and a few other things.” His mind is already made up, and I get the pleasure of admiring his peach of an ass before he pulls his underwear back on. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” His soft whistling fades to silence as he jogs down the stairs.
Yes, I’m dreaming. And I don’t want to wake up.
But instead of lying around in bed and going over every moment of what just happened, I cross the hall to clean up and brush my teeth in my bathroom.
Will it be my bathroom for much longer, or will Dante want me to move across the hall with him?
I don’t know. Perhaps separate bathrooms would help our marriage, provide personal space, and all that.
Am I actually thinking about ways to make my marriage happier? Could this be real life? As I meet my gaze in the mirror while I brush my teeth, I realize that I want it to be. I can see this becoming a habit. I sure wouldn’t complain.
It’s only when I hear a buzzing from the nightstand that I remember leaving my phone up here when I got changed last night. I figured Dante was only up at the big house and could come get me if he needed to. It’s not like my phone is ringing off the hook otherwise.