6. VIN
VIN
I’m at the bar, trying hard to focus on the row of bottles behind the bartender. Not the mirror behind those bottles. Not the reflection of Sophie talking to that Irish fuck, Gavin. I’ve known that guy forever. He’s quiet, a nice guy. He’s perfect for her, and I fucking hate him for it.
The party is loud, waves of laughter and conversation that crash into each other and start over again.
Everyone is talking too fast, drinking too much, and it’s making everything about tonight fucking worse.
I’m nursing my third whiskey and trying to remember why I even fucking showed up in the first place.
Over the chatter and music, a woman’s voice sounds off high-pitched and loud: “Tommy!”
The conversation drops in half as everyone quiets to figure out what’s going on. When we realize it’s Giovanna and she screams his name again, I roll my eyes and a few people stifle a laugh. Just Tommy fucking Giovanna again, somewhere out of sight but not out of earshot.
When I turn back to the bar, I slam right into Sophie’s gaze in the mirror behind the bottles. I can’t look away from her reflection. I feel it everywhere. I want to feel her everywhere.
She looks away first. Then back again. She’s just short of glaring at me, her jaw tight, chin up. Defensive. I think she hates me, and my stomach twists at the thought. Sweet fucking Sophie. You have to be a real fucking shit heel for her to look at you the way she’s looking at me right now.
I guess that makes me a shit heel.
A champagne cork pops and someone cheers. I toss back the rest of my whiskey and set the glass down.
“Ten!” As the countdown starts, I turn to survey the crowd, leaning back against the bar. I immediately lock on Sophie.
Sophie and that fuck, Gavin.
“Nine! Eight!”
Ronan is trying to get my attention from across the rooftop, Ashlyn standing next to him, watching. I ignore them both. Everyone around Sophie and Gavin fades into a blur as Gavin tips her chin up to look at him.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
He’s going to kiss her. Fuck. It feels like a gut punch, like everything is moving in slow motion as she smiles up at him.
“Four! Three!”
I’m next to them before I realize I’m moving, my hand on her arm, pushing Gavin away, eyes on her. She darts a glance at me, alarmed, trying to slip out of my grasp.
“Vin, this isn’t—“
I drag her away from Gavin, gripping her elbow, my mouth next to her ear so she can hear me over the crowd. “Whatever you’re about to say, I’m going to disagree. Then you’re going to argue, and when I argue back, you’ll either say ‘you might be right’ or you’ll keep fighting.”
I pull her behind the bar into a tight space between the back of the mirrored wall of bottles and the stone wall wrapped around the edge of the rooftop. The city twinkles behind her, the whole world getting ready to bring in the new year.
“Two!”
She tries to pull out of my grip, but I don’t let her. “I don’t want—“
“One!”
As the rooftop erupts into cheers, I crush my mouth onto hers, slamming her against the back side of the bar. I grip her jaw and force her to look at me. “You were going to let him kiss you.”
“That’s none of your—”
I slam into her again, swallowing whatever she was going to say in a kiss, devouring her. She makes a sound that’s half outrage, half moan. My hand slides from her jaw down the column of her throat, over her breast, landing hard at her hip. She smacks at my wrist.
“Stop—”
“No.” I pin her wrist against the wall. My other hand finds the hem of her dress.
“Vin, I swear to God—” But her voice is already fraying at the edges.
“You are so fucking sexy in this dress,” I murmur against her ear as my fingers find her panties and push them to the side.
She gasps against my shoulder, the hand she was just smacking with me now curling into my shirt.
“This isn’t—Vin—” She’s looking up at me, pleading, as I stroke her wet slit.
“I know.” I keep my voice low, against her ear and slide two fingers inside her. She instantly clamps around me with a moan. ”I know.”
She’s warm and perfect and mine. The past months of thinking about her, avoiding her, trying to get her out of my head evaporate, every point of my existence focused on being here, right here, right now, with her.
I slip my fingers out of her, rip her panties, and her whole body shudders. I smirk as I stroke her slowly, deliberately, until her breathing starts to stutter.
“You’re going to come so hard for me,” I say against her temple. “Aren’t you, princess?”
“Don’t call me that.” But she’s rolling her hips against my hand.
I grip her jaw, tipping her face up to mine. There are no lights back here but in the intermittent flash of fireworks I can see her eyes, wide, furious, and so fucking beautiful. “Eyes right here, Sophia.”
She does as I say, like she’s physically hanging onto my gaze as she starts to shake.
“You’re my pretty little fuckhole, aren’t you?” She’s about to come. I can feel it in her tense pussy, see it in her glassy eyes. I pull my fingers out of her and she screams softly in frustration. Can’t help but laugh. “Say it.”
“Say what?” She grabs my wrist and tries to push my fingers back inside her.
“You know what.” I rub her clit with my thumb, let one finger tease her dripping opening.
“I’m your little fuckhole,” she breathes.
“Almost,” I correct her.
“I’m your… pretty little fuckhole.”
“Yes you are, princess. You were fucking made for this. Made for me.” I put her hands on my hard cock through my pants and she unzips me and pulls me out without being told. Hiking her leg up around my waist, I line my cock up with her entrance and bottom out inside her. We both groan.
“This is my pussy, Sophia.” My tone is gruff, zero emotion, as I fuck her. But I fucking mean it, slamming into her with every God damn word. “Mine. I don’t care what happens with anyone else, not with you and not with me. I will find a way to take care of you. Always. You belong to me.”
The glass in her eyes breaks, and she turns fiery. “ROSSO!”
I freeze.She’s never used that safe word before: red. Emergency stop. Not once in anything I’ve ever done to her.
She slams her palms into my chest. My brow furrows as I move her hands down by her side. I’m still inside her, and I have no intention of pulling out until I’ve bred her. But I don’t move.
“I am not yours.” Her voice is shaking, but her eyes are clear. “You are marrying someone else. And I am—” She stops herself abruptly and squeezes her eyes shut tight.
“And you are?” I prompt her, daring her. “Think carefully about how you respond when I am inside you.”
Her eyes well up with tears and she starts to cry, quiet tears that I’ve only seen from her in the dark.
“Vin… Please. Stop. Stop with all of this. I can’t do this—“
“I can’t stop, Sophia.” The truth of that statement sits heavy in my chest like a rock. “I can’t stop fucking you. I can’t stop owning you.”
I start to move inside her, fucking her slowly, intently, my forehead pressed to hers. The fireworks are still going, the crowd loud on the other side of the bar. The whole world is 10 feet away, and it don’t fucking care. “I need to come inside you. Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me.”
“I don’t want you, Vin.” But she spreads her legs wider and grips my ass, pulling me in deeper, moving against me. “I want you to leave me alone.”
“But you want to come first, don’t you, regina mia?”
“Don’t call me that.” She’s sobbing quietly against my chest, grinding her clit against me with each thrust, her hips finding my rhythm.
“Don’t call you my queen?” The words tear out of me.
“Fuck, Sophia. I can’t call you anything else.
You’re mine.” She feels so fucking good, so fucking perfect.
It’s been so long without her, and I’m close, too close.
I try so fucking hard to hold off, to stay in this, to stay with her. I don’t want this to end.
But I don’t have a choice.
“Vin!” She comes hard, my name both a scream and a sob drowned out by fireworks, her body arching against mine. Her pussy squeezes around me in rhythmic pulses, relentless and perfect.
I bury my face in her neck and explode inside her, muffling the sound against her skin as she rakes her nails up my back and into my hair.
There’s no way I’m giving this up. Not for ports. Not for an alliance. Not for anything. I’ll figure out a way to protect the family, keep things going with the Irish, and keep Sophie. There’s no other fucking option.
When our bodies still, she slams her hands into my chest and shoves me hard. She’s not strong enough to move me, but I step back anyway.
She won’t look at me as she steps out of her ripped panties, uses them to clean up, and shoves them into the trash without comment.
I zip up, watching her the entire time.
Behind us, everyone at the party is still yelling and laughing, champagne corks popping. Another volley of fireworks split open the sky. It sounds like a celebration. It doesn’t feel like one.
She tries to slide by me, back to the party and probably to the nearest exit.
I grab her arm. “Don’t walk out on this, Sophie. We’re not done here.”
“We are done here.” She looks pointedly at my hand on her arm until I let go. “Your wife is out there.”
I grind my teeth. “She’s not my wife.”
“For all intents and purposes, yes, she is, Vin.” There’s a level of coldness I have never seen from her. It’s fucking chilling. “And more importantly, I’m not.”
“Soph—”
“No.” She holds up her hand. “It’s a new year, Vin. A new era for both of us. There’s no room for…” she gestures between us, “…whatever this is. You know it as well as I do. I’m asking you to stop complicating things. Please. Respect that.”
“Sophia—”
“Respect. That.”
I shake my head and look up at the sky. The fireworks are fading now, the last ones blooming and dissolving into smoke above the city. When I look back, she’s gone.
I stay where I am for a minute. The rooftop is packed, and Ashlyn and Ronan are both expecting me out there. I have zero fucking interest in playing the doting fiancé or celebrating anything.
Fuck this. I straighten my jacket, run a hand over my face, and head to the bar.