Chapter 8 This Little Bubble
THIS LITTLE BUBBLE
LORENZO
Despite my reassuring words to Sophia, I ache with the need for release.
I would never put any kind of pressure on her to do anything, but in my secret heart, I cannot help but hope she is able to touch me.
It feels selfish, but I am nothing if not honest with myself, if I don’t always burden her with truths that would only overwhelm her, make her feel guilty, or pressure her into something she’s not ready for.
I close my eyes and let my heart hammer in anticipation, holding absolutely still. I have the generous curve of her hip under my hand, the other stretched out beside me over the blanket.
Her hands are tucked between us. For a few moments, she just lays partly on me, head on my chest, thigh draped over mine, breathing.
And then she rests her hand on my chest, over my sternum.
She explores my chest, palming my pecs, thumbing my nipples.
Then my abs, my ribs, my sides. Her touch moves in a circle, stomach to waist to chest, opposite side to stomach and back to my chest again.
A pause, her hand resting on my stomach.
I hear her swallow. Feel her take a deep breath, hold it.
She lets it out slowly, shakily.
"You're the only one," she whispers.
"The only one what, darling?" I ask.
"The only one," she repeats. "Anything good I have ever felt has come from you." She sighs, the sound shaky, emotional. "I'm sorry I'm such a weepy, pathetic mess."
"I told you, no apologies. I don't want them, I don't need them.
" I cup her cheek, brush my thumb over her lips.
"I want you to feel. If you must cry, then cry. If you want to laugh, then laugh. Scream. Get angry. Use me, Sophia. Take everything you want and need from me. I want all of your emotions. You’ve had everything you are and everything you feel locked away inside that icy box for so long.
You had to, I understand that. But you don't have to anymore.
So give me all of your emotions, whatever they are. Trust me with them."
She shudders, sobs. "I'm trying to find the courage to touch you, but I—"
"Soph, I told you—"
She covers my mouth with her hand. "Hush, Ren. Let me speak." She exhales slowly, starts over. "But I have to…I have to understand what I'm feeling. I have to talk it out, I think. I don't mean to tease."
"I know."
"I just have this big tangled knot of fear inside me.
It comes from everything that happened, I think.
The…those days in the cell, all those men doing what they did.
Then being drugged. Married off to a monster.
Rafael using me as a receptacle so he could get his son.
The birth. The massacre. Crossing the jungle, alone, bleeding, barefoot.
" She shudders a half-sob. "There was pain, and anger, and shame.
But more than any of that, I was terrified.
I have lived with that fear ever since. The ice queen thing?
That was to try not to be afraid. To not show it. "
“That makes sense."
She roams my stomach and chest once more, slow, delicate circles with her palm, and then light scratching trails with her nails. "I am afraid of men. Of being touched. Of touching—Rafael, he made me…" she shakes her head. "I can’t speak of it."
"You don't have to."
She's quiet for a long time, stroking my chest and stomach all the while. "I won't be afraid anymore. It's not a fear of anything specific, just this leftover mess inside me. I hate it. I want it gone."
“It may just take time."
'I know," she says. "But being with you…
it helps, Ren. I trust you, and that's precious to me.
I trust the Arrows, of course, and now I also trust the girls.
But it's different with you. You know all of me.
You know who I was and how I became Inez.
You have known my body. You have never wavered in your love for me, even after years of not knowing if I was alive.
You never even got upset that I'd stayed away from you, that I hid from you for so long. "
"I always understood why you left and why you hid."
She nuzzles my jaw. "I know. And I am grateful for that.
For all that you are, Lorenzo." She sighs again.
"But now, I…I have to face this fear of touching you.
I guess…it's complicated. I want to. For me—to know that I can.
I want to have my sexuality back. Those men and Rafael stole it from me.
But it's mine. Letting you touch me, letting you see me naked… that was a big step for me, Ren."
"I know," I say. "And that's why I would understand if you need to take a break."
"I don't want to," she says, shaking her head.
"I face things head-on. I always have. Right now, this irrational fear of intimacy is the enemy, and I will not let it rule me anymore.
I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of being with you.
I'm not afraid of touching you. The fear is trying to tell me that something bad will happen if I don't run away and hide from anyone and everyone who could possibly hurt me.
It's trying to tell me that if I touch you, I'll end up back in that cell, chained to that cot.
I know it's false. Letting you see me naked was terrifying, but you made me…
you make me feel beautiful. Letting you touch me was scary too, but now I feel…
incredible, Ren. Free…or somewhat more free, at least. Lighter.
It's like…like having that breakdown with the girls opened the floodgates and now I have to just bulldoze through all this. "
I chew on all that for a few moments. "I really do understand, my love.
My commitment to you remains the same—whatever you need, I am here to provide, as long as it's within my power to do so.
If you need to wrestle with your demons, I will fight them with you.
Even if that's just lying here and letting you find your way to touching me.
" I huff a laugh. "Which will be no great hardship, let me assure you. "
She laughs. "I hope not." She goes serious, then. "I just want you to understand that I don't know how this will go. I may have to stop. And I don't want you to think it's you, or that I don't—"
I touch her lips. "I know. Even if I'm about to come, Sophia, if you need to stop, you stop. Spare no thought for me. Only for yourself."
“You are the most amazing man I've ever known.” She shakes her head. "I love you, Ren. So much.”
I choke on my emotions, a thick swirl of them lodged in my throat. "The sweetest words I could ever hope to hear, my love."
She lets out a breath, a slow, shaky exhale through pursed lips.
Nuzzles her nose and lips against the side of my chest. Her short, blunt fingernails trail down my centerline from breastbone to navel; even the hint of a possibility of her touching me has my stomach curling inward in anticipation.
I have to force myself to relax, to breathe.
I can't help that I'm already hard as an iron girder, aching with desperation to have her hand wrapped around me.
Sophia tilts her head to look at me. "Ren, I'm—"
I touch the underside of her chin with my finger and kiss her—softly, sweetly, lips only.
"No explanations, no apologies. Anything you have to say, I will hear.
But there is nothing that needs to be said, in this moment.
Take your time. Whatever you need to do, however you need to do it. I'm here, I'm yours."
She kisses me back, a quick, soft peck. "I know you must be feeling…a lot of things ."
I nod. "Yes, of course. But this is about you right now, Sophia. Not me."
"But I don't want our whole relationship to be about me."
"It's not. It won't be. But this moment is.
It has to be. I want it to be. I can't make everything all better, no matter how badly I want to.
If I could fix the things that have hurt you and made you feel broken with a snap of my fingers, I would.
If I could take your pain into myself, I would.
If all I can do is lie here and be supportive and understanding as you work through this, then that's what I'll do, gladly and willingly. "
She huffs. "But you're still not telling me what you're feeling."
"Do you want me to?" I ask. "I would not complicate things by inserting my silly feelings into a situation that isn't about me."
“Your feelings aren't silly, Ren."
I kiss her again. "No, I suppose not. But they're not important right now. And if I'm being honest, I think you're trying, perhaps subconsciously, to make this a conversation so you can avoid the thing you're afraid of."
Her brow furrows as she considers this. "Fuck. You're right."
She pulls away out of kissing distance, her head on the round of my shoulder, searching me with her dark eyes. I hold her gaze, smiling, hoping my expression conveys patience and understanding and love.
Her gaze flits away from mine after a moment, dancing over my chest to the edge of the blanket resting an inch or so above my navel.
She stops breathing, swallows hard—a heartbeat passes in silence.
Another. And then she peels the blanket down, exposing my ramrod-stiff cock inch by inch, until the blanket is at my knees.
She sucks in a sharp breath. "You're magnificent, Lorenzo. Do you know that?"
I shrug. "I am pleased you think so, amor."
She hesitates, clutching the blanket down near my knee so tightly her knuckles are white, and then releases her grip, flexing her fingers as if to release the tension. Her palm settles on my thigh. Drifts up, up, up to my hipbone. Lifts, hovers over my erection…and then drops back to my hip.
She buries her face in my chest, making a frustrated whining sound. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"No apologies, remember? As long as you need. Or we just rest for now and you try again another time."