Chapter 9 Injuries
Before she could even catch her breath, he grabbed one of her legs and pulled it over his shoulder. His other hand held her hip firmly as he drew her closer. His mouth lowered between her thighs, lips closing over her heat as his tongue slid out.
“Ah,” Sophia cried out, her hands falling back to brace herself against the edge as her body jolted. He kept her legs secured, his grip tight, his mouth moving over her again and again.
She trembled, trying to regain control, but it was impossible. His mouth was relentless, her breaths uneven, her body responding helplessly to the rough intensity of his actions. Her hands found his shoulders, unsure whether she was pulling him closer or trying to push him away.
He licked her without pause, his tongue sliding over her softness, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it before taking it into his mouth. He flicked his tongue again and again, unhurried and merciless.
“Mmh,” Sophia moaned, her fingers tightening as she struggled to control her breathing. Her legs began to shake, her thighs trembling around his head. The sensations grew overwhelming, impossible to contain.
“Oh God….” She tried to push him away when the sensations grew too overwhelming to bear, but instead he tightened his hold, his mouth growing even more insistent, refusing to give her any relief.
Just as she reached the edge and the sensations threatened to consume her completely, he suddenly pulled away.
He climbed out of the swimming pool, water cascading down his toned chest as he moved straight over her. The wet heat of his body pressed against hers, slick skin sliding against slick skin, chest pressing against hers with a coldness that made her gasp.
Without breaking away, he slid his shorts down his hips and legs, tossing them aside carelessly.
His full, hard length pressed against her, slick and ready, as he settled over her.
Water dripped from both of them, pooling beneath them.
The scent of her, warm and intoxicating, made him lose every shred of control.
His hand slid along his length, guiding himself to her entrance. Slowly, he entered her, filling her completely. His mouth roamed over her skin, licking and kissing, tracing every curve he could reach. She gasped, chest rising and falling, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
His thrusts were deep, hard, in and out, sliding to the hilt and then pulling back before plunging again.
“Magnus,” Sophia moaned, and the sound made his chest ache with a sudden surge of desire. He moved faster, harder, his hips driving in a rough, commanding rhythm, pulling back only to thrust deep again.
“Oh God,” she cried, her body shuddering around him, soaking him completely with her release but it wasn’t enough for him. His length was still rigid inside her, demanding more.
He slowed only slightly, but his thrusts remained deep and punishing, making her whole body shake as the stimulation ignited fire through every nerve. She was utterly consumed by him.
“Ahh… oh God,” she moaned again, wrapping her hands around his neck, trying to anchor herself, but he didn’t relent.
His mouth descended on her soft mound, licking and sucking with insatiable hunger, his tongue flicking over her soft bud again and again.
His hips continued to drive mercilessly, leaving her no choice but to take everything he gave her.
Seconds later, she felt his body shudder as a deep groan escaped him. His thrusts became slower but no less intense, hard and precise, until the tension between them finally eased.
She gasped for air, her chest heaving, her heart racing, trembling beneath him as he held her close. Even in the aftermath, every inch of her body still burned with the imprint of his control.
She barely had a moment to catch her breath before he lifted her effortlessly, spinning her around so that she faced away from him. Her back pressed against his chest, and she felt his hardened length pressing at her entrance once again.
“Stay still,” he growled into her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. His hands gripped her hips tightly, lifting her slightly so he could slide inside with one deep thrust. She gasped, her body arching instinctively into him.
This time, he moved differently—slow at first, savoring her tightness, then building into a punishing rhythm. His chest pressed against her back, and she could feel every movement of him, every inch of him filling her. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but it was impossible.
Her hands found his wrists, trying to anchor herself, but he grabbed her arms and pinned them against her stomach, leaning over to kiss the side of her neck while his thrusts grew harder, faster, merciless. The pleasure burned through her body, overwhelming every thought.
“Mmm… Magnus,” she moaned, and the sound spurred him on. He spun her again, this time lowering her onto the edge of the pool so she sat with her legs draped over his shoulders. The new angle drove him impossibly deep, hitting places that made her cry out uncontrollably.
He didn’t let her rest, his hands roaming over her body as he leaned in to kiss her lips hungrily, his tongue teasing hers while his hips never stopped moving.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, grinding into him as he continued to thrust, his hands kneading her thighs, keeping her pressed exactly where he wanted her.
“Oh God… I can’t—” she gasped, but he silenced her with a hard, deep thrust that made her shiver uncontrollably.
He was relentless, shifting her again so she was straddling him now, riding his length.
Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she rode him, her movements desperate and fevered.
He groaned, gripping her hips tightly, helping her find the perfect rhythm, making her cry out again and again.
The night air, the sound of the water, the slick heat between them—it all blended into a haze of sensation. Her legs quaked, her back arched, and just when she thought she might collapse from the pleasure, he whispered in her ear, voice rough with need,
“I’m not done.”
And then he drove into her again, harder, deeper, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that left no room for anything but the raw, consuming intensity of their desire.
***
An hour later, Sophia and Magnus stepped out of the swimming court. The night air hit them, cool against their damp skin. Near the curb, Harold and Gregory were standing by their cars, talking in low tones. The engines idled quietly, a soft hum threading through the stillness.
Harold looked up first, blinking in surprise.
“You guys finally came out?” he said, a hint of incredulity in his voice. “What took you so long?”
His gaze drifted to Sophia, lingering just a moment too long on her damp hair clinging to her neck and the flush still warming her cheeks. Harold’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as he leaned toward Gregory, lowering his voice.
“He didn’t compete as roughly with her as he does with me… did he?”
Sophia’s face was still slightly flustered, warmth lingering beneath her skin. Feeling suddenly self-conscious under their attention, she instinctively tried to step away, giving the three men space to talk.
She barely made it one step.
Magnus reached out without looking, caught her hand, and pulled her straight back to his side.
Her feet halted mid-step.
Surprise flashed through her—followed quickly by embarrassment—as she felt his fingers lace through hers. Her heart skipped, her shoulders stiffening as she stood there, trapped neatly at his side.
Gregory cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Alright,” he said, glancing between them with obvious interest. “We’re heading to a bar. You two want to come out drinking, or are you going back?”
Magnus turned his head slightly and looked down at her, one brow lifting as his grip on her hand didn’t loosen.
“You wanna go drinking?”
Sophia shook her head, strands of damp hair brushing her cheek. “I have work tomorrow. It’s better to go home.”
Magnus lifted his gaze and turned back to Harold and Gregory. “We’re going home.”
Gregory’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only Magnus could hear. “So… you do like her.”
“Who said I like her?” Magnus ground out in the same low tone. He shoved Gregory away dismissively, irritation flashing as he shot him a sharp glare.
Harold’s gaze drifted between Sophia and Magnus before he spoke, breaking the tension. “I’ve already asked for your car to be brought out of the parking. It’s waiting for you on the street.”
Magnus glanced briefly at Harold, acknowledging him with a short nod.
Then his eyes returned to Sophia’s.
“Let’s go.”
He gave her hand a gentle tug. Turning away from the others, he pulled her along with him, leaving Harold and Gregory standing behind, watching them go.
***
“Damn it,” Sophia hissed softly, leaning closer to the bathroom mirror.
The warm light above the sink cast a soft glow over her skin. Just below her collarbone, faint red marks stood out far too clearly. Her brows knit together as she lifted her hand and pressed her fingers against them, testing the tenderness.
“These need to disappear before I go to work tomorrow…” she murmured.
She rubbed at the marks with slow, frustrated strokes, hoping pressure alone might fade them. Instead, the skin only grew warmer, the color standing out even more vividly.
“How am I supposed to fix this?” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
The bathroom was quiet.
Then, faint footsteps sounded behind her.
Sophia froze.
Her fingers stilled against her skin. Her shoulders tensed.
Her eyes flicked up instinctively—and met Magnus’s reflection in the mirror.