Chapter 20 Sophia
SOPHIA
It’s only been a matter of hours since Enzo pulled me from the house, but a lifetime might as well have passed by the time I return.
I’m different now. I’ve said goodbye to who I used to be, because Enzo was my last connection to that version of myself.
I see that now, stepping into my home as another man’s wife, a man who loves me.
A man I love with every fiber of my being.
If anything, what Enzo did was a gift. He shone a spotlight on what matters most.
Like Dante, who hasn’t stopped hovering over me since we left the diner.
“You probably want to shower. Wash all this shit off you.” Once the door is locked, he turns to me, taking my face in his hands.
“First, there’s one more thing I have to say.
I wasn’t completely honest with you this morning.
I want this out in the open before we move forward. ”
“Okay…” I still feel half numb, anyway, as I try to process the day. I guess now is as good a time as any.
“I told you I ran up to the wreck the night of the crash,” he murmurs, and I nod. “I didn’t tell you the driver was still breathing. In fact, he wasn’t that badly injured at all. I changed that.” The heaviness in his voice tells the rest of the story.
“I probably shouldn’t have…” he continues, “… but he killed… I couldn’t let him get away with it.”
“I understand,” I tell him after a few moments, covering his hands with mine, wrapping my fingers around his.
Do I really understand? Maybe a little. If Enzo had killed Alessandro today, I could easily imagine wanting to kill him for it.
When it comes to the people we love, we can do things we would never consider otherwise.
“Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me with that.”
“I don’t want there to be any secrets from this day forward,” he whispers, leaning into a kiss against my forehead. He follows that with one against the tip of my nose. “Thank you for being the perfect woman for me.”
Maybe I am. Maybe our fathers knew what they were doing when they put us together. A business arrangement that ultimately turned into a love match. How often does that happen?
I don’t have the ability to figure it out, and I don’t want to. I’ve wasted too much time thinking and questioning already. Now, especially after today, I want to feel.
Which means backing up, still hand in hand, leading Dante to the stairs. “I do need a shower, but I need you to come with me. Please.”
“You never have to beg for something like that.” He’s trying to joke, but there’s something in his endlessly deep, dark eyes that tells me he understands. I need the connection, touch, and sensation. I need to come back to center, and it just so happens he is my center.
I’m almost too happy to peel off my clothes once we’re in the bathroom with the shower running.
I want every part of that experience off me, forever.
Before I step into the stall, I kick the leggings into the corner.
I don’t want to remember Enzo that way. I would rather remember the way he used to be when I loved him.
“Let me take care of you,” Dante offers once he joins me, wasting no time pouring shower gel onto my sponge. “Relax. Close your eyes.”
His body touches mine, a warm, solid presence against my back. The urge to melt against him is too much to resist. I let my head drop to his shoulder while he runs the sponge over my skin. It’s heaven, being cared for like this, letting him take over so I can rest.
Only I’m not feeling so restful by the time he runs the sponge in slow circles over my breasts. My skin comes alive under his touch. It’s the most natural thing in the world, responding to him, and by the time he washes my stomach, I’m breathing faster.
So is he once he works the sponge between my legs, which I spread to give him better access.
All at once, something hard pokes my ass, getting bigger with every rasp against my ear.
“How could I give up being able to do this again?” he whispers while his dick slides against my wet skin.
Finally, he tosses the sponge aside in favor of using his hand to massage my mound.
“Mm… Dante,” I moan. “It feels so good. Touch me. Touch me everywhere.”
My hips are moving by the time his fingers slide through my swollen slit, making me writhe against him because, oh my God, it’s incredible. The slightest touch turns me into this needful thing with only one goal in mind.
But he has the same goal, humping my ass while he strums my clit. “Back where you belong,” he whispers, and I moan in agreement. “Here. With me. My fingers in your pussy, and my cock rubbing your ass.”
I moan helplessly, lost in the feeling, in the sound of his voice.
“With my cock deep inside you.” It’s not his cock but his fingers that fill me, stretch me. I bear down on them, almost riding them in a frenzy as the tension in my core builds. It’s coming, I feel it, and my body responds by doing everything it can to bring on release.
“Good girl. Come on my fingers,” he urges, using his thumb on my clit while his digits pump faster. “Come on my fingers, and I’ll reward you with my cock.”
“I’m… oh shit! Jesus Christ!” My eyes squeeze shut, and my body tenses in the last second before I yelp out my relief. Wave after wave starts from my core and radiates outward, enveloping me in warm, sweet bliss.
I’m too weak to do anything but whimper softly when he turns me around, backing me up against the wall. As hard as he is, the way he panted in my ear like an animal, I expect him to impale me all at once and take me hard and fast.
I even encourage him, wrapping a hand around him, teasing the underside of his head with my thumb while I stroke his shaft. “Where should I put this?” I whisper, looking up at him.
All he does is gently remove my hand, draping my arm over his shoulder, followed by my other arm. “I love you,” he tells me, making my soul sing while his wide head probes my wetness.
This is different. It’s in the way he stares deep into my eyes, his forehead touching mine, our breath mingling. My arms tighten around his shoulders, instinctively drawing him closer before he works his way inside me.
This is him, really and truly. This is Dante.
His soul is staring down at me while he moves inside me in slow, tantalizing strokes that make my mouth fall open for an endless string of moans to come out. It’s almost too much. I almost want to hide from it, being this vulnerable, exposed, and having nowhere to go.
Somehow, over the sound of our heavy breathing, his words reach me. “Only me. Always.”
“Oh, yes,” I moan, wrapping a leg around him, opening myself wider so he can sink deeper. “Yes, always.”
“And always, only you,” he replies. I see the truth shining down at me. It’s more than words. He means it with all of him, including his fierce heart.
“Yes, Dante.” The words are barely out before he captures my mouth, claiming it the way he claims my pussy, my entire body. My heart.
His pace quickens and so does mine, my body jerking up and down to match his strokes, my back sliding against the tile while his granite chest slides against mine. The heat is too much, and somehow, it’s not enough. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him.
It’s happening again. “I’m going to… oh God,” I frantically whisper.
“I feel it,” he grunts before burying his face in my neck. “So tight. Let it go. Give it to me.”
I hear his desperation. How weak he is for me. That’s what takes the mind-bending pleasure and pushes it over the top so that I can crash down while he slams deeply one more time.
“Fuck, Sophia!” His words are muffled against my skin, but I feel them vibrate through me while my pussy clenches down on his pulsing cock.
“Oh fuck, Dante.” I moan, leaning against the wall, running my fingers through his wet hair while my core flutters. He leans against me, holding me between his body and the wall so the two of us can catch our breath between soft, sweet kisses.
If this is what our forever will look like, I can’t imagine ever wanting anything else. No matter what happens after today, knowing I have this to come back to will make it all worthwhile.
I’ve finally come home.
* * *
Two weeks later
I’ve heard more grumbling and sighing in the past ten minutes while getting ready for dinner than I have in my entire life.
“I hope we can trust your brother to be on his best behavior tonight,” Dante mutters from in front of the bathroom sink.
“Relax,” I insist as I finish my makeup at my vanity. Finally, we share a bedroom for real. “Hasn’t he earned a little bit of trust? He’s been a good boy for two whole weeks, and he did help you rescue me.” It still doesn’t feel real. I doubt it ever will.
“Fine. Then I hope my brother will be on his best behavior,” he mutters. “I’m surprised he was all right with the idea of your family coming for dinner.”
“He’s not all right with it,” I remind him. Neither is Emilia, who respectfully but firmly announced she would sit this one out and visit with her parents tonight instead. I can’t blame her, and it breaks my heart to know it was my brother who hurt her.
“How about I keep an eye on my brother, and you keep an eye on yours?” I suggest while standing on my tiptoes to kiss Dante’s smooth cheek while he finishes straightening his shirt collar.
He’s looking dangerously sexy in a black button-down, the top two buttons popped, and charcoal pants.
It kind of makes me wish we could go back to bed.
But then we have the rest of our lives for that, don’t we? Tonight, we’re supposedly going to broker peace once and for all. Rocco needs to know he can trust my brother now that he’s back in the States, and I know it means a lot to Dad to prove our family can be trusted.