53. SOPHIE
SOPHIE
Iwake up in Vin’s arms, my back against his chest, the early morning light breaking across the dark room like a flashlight. At first, it feels natural, normal, safe. Like home. Like the whole last year didn’t happen.
Then everything comes flooding back to me, and I feel a stab in my chest that hurts so badly that I almost can’t breathe.
Almost.
I shift, try to escape his grasp, but his arms tighten around me, holding me in place. His hard cock grows harder against my ass, and I try to wriggle away. “Vin…”
It comes out breathier than I want it to, like I want him to keep going, not like I want him to stop.
He nuzzles into my neck and breathes in deeply, like he’s taking me in. “Princess…”
I didn’t speak to him after I let him in last night. I didn’t say anything when he sat on the bed next to me. I didn’t touch him, and he didn’t touch me. But something about just having him there relaxed me so completely that I knocked out hard and stayed out all night.
But I’m not that relaxed.
I shove him off me and sit up abruptly. “You need to go.”
Vin grabs me around the waist, pulls me back toward him. “We had a deal, Sophia.”
I twist to look at him as best I can. “I made no deal.”
“I told you I’d do anything you wanted. I asked you to try me, and you let me in. It’s an implied deal.”
Pregnancy apparently wears on my patience, because I have none with this man at this point. “Fine. Then leave. You said you’d do anything I ask.”
He pulls back but slowly, reluctantly, and I get up. I need a shower. I need hot water on my sore muscles and time and space to just get my head together before I have to go into work.
I get the water hot enough that the steam fills the small room and fogs up the mirror before I get in and just stand under the stream.
A minute passes. Then five. I’ll be honest. I expected that door to open the minute I closed it.
I expected his hands on me before the water ran hot enough to step in the shower.
Without it, there’s a twinge of loneliness that I didn’t expect. Of longing. But also respect. The Vin I know would take what he wants without any care for what I or anyone else had to say about it. But he’s listening to me.
Get it together, Sophia. You said you were ready to do this alone. So do this alone.
I run my hands over my hot skin, my fingers finding my clit. I jerk my hand away with a start when the door opens and Vin enters hesitantly. Frack! I’m angry, mad that I believed he could change, but that instantly morphs into confusion.
Vin Demonio, who has never been awkward in his life, stands in my bathroom with his hands in his pockets and his jaw working before he speaks. “Soph, I don’t want to disrespect you,” he says. “I just—”
He stops himself. Is he… at a loss for words? His gaze is on the floor tile, and I wait. His shirt is off, his muscles hard, one vein jumping in his forearm. He’s frowning and just looks…awkward.
I turn away from him, stepping back under the water. “You need a shower too.” When he doesn’t move, I sigh. “Stop standing there wasting water.”
He exhales hard, and my heart starts pounding. I don’t know why I’m doing this other than I’m pregnant and the hormones have me all over the place emotionally… and physically. I mean, it’s not like I can get more pregnant.
“Soph, are you sure?”
“Get in here, Vin.”
His clothes hit the bathroom floor and he’s in the shower and on me almost before the words are out of my mouth.
His hands are on my face, my hands are on his chest, and his mouth finds mine with an urgency that feels desperate.
He exhales against my mouth, his lips warm against mine and I moan softly.
I want this. I want it so much. And he knows it.
“This doesn’t mean we’re together,” I breathe as he licks my neck.
“Okay,” he mumbles, nipping at me.
“I mean it. This is just sex. I’m pregnant and horny, that’s all.”
“Okay, princess.”
I kiss him back with everything I have, my hands sliding up his wet chest, his fingers in my hair, the water sliding down our bodies.
He makes a low sound against my neck when I press closer and his hands move to my waist. His cock is so hard against my stomach and for a moment everything is very simple and clear.
I want nothing but this. Nothing but Vin.
But I pull back. His eyes open. They’re dark, blown wide, his chest moving fast.
“Not yet,” I say.
His jaw tightens. He nods once and pulls his hands away but can’t take his eyes off me.
“Go down on me.”
The words shock him almost as much as they shock me. I’ve never been the aggressor, never been the one to ask for anything, not in any context but especially not sexually.
Vin’s mouth curves at one corner and he drops to his knees without a word. When his mouth finds me I have to grip the shower wall with both hands to remain upright. He is good at this. He has always been good at this, which has been one of the more inconvenient facts of my life.
But there’s something different in how he’s touching me, tasting me, devouring me tonight.
It’s both intense and gentle at the same time.
He reads my body and every sound I make and adjusts.
He grips my thighs and holds me up when my knees start to give out, and when he finds the rhythm that makes my vision dissolve at the edges, he stays there, patient and relentless.
I dig my fingers into his hair and hold on, thrown into an avalanche of sensation shooting through every nerve in my body.
I come so hard my voice breaks on his name, and then, without any warning at all, I come again immediately after, the second one rolling through me hard and violent.
My hands slip to his shoulders and I’m making sounds I have no control over, squirting warm and wet all over him, all over me, all over us.
“Fuuuuucckk, Sophia.”
He buries his face in my pussy, licking me, the flat of his tongue hitting all the nerve endings in my sensitive clit. I can barely even think in complete sentences.
He looks up at me from his knees. He is devastatingly, painfully gorgeous. Water dripping down his chiseled body, his jaw tense, his eyes dark and piercing. He grips my hips with both hands, digging in his fingertips, bruising me.
He rises, his hard cock pressing into me as he slides his hands up my body in rough strokes. He lifts one of my legs, positioning himself to push inside me, and I put one hand flat against the center of his chest.
“Not yet,” I say. “Your turn.”
His brow pulls together. “My turn?”
“Turn around.”
He stills, and his expression goes hard. I wait. This is his chance to show me that he meant what he said. If he doesn’t, there’s nothing more to say.
“Sophie—”
“You said anything.” I hold his gaze.
He is quiet for a long moment. The water runs over his shoulders, down the lines of his chest, the still-fresh stitches from the shrapnel. He rakes his gaze down the length of my body then back up again like he’s starving. Then he turns around.
He braces one forearm against the tile and drops his chin to his chest, the tension emanating off him. I press one hand lightly between his shoulder blades and feel him breathe.
“I’ve got you,” I say quietly. “Relax.”
He exhales once, hard. I have no intention of rushing him.
This isn’t a power play—or I guess it’s not just a power play.
It’s about showing him what it means to be an equal to someone else, to trust them the same way you ask them to trust you.
To show him that I can show up for him and serve him in ways he’s never imagined, but that I need him to support me as well.
Standing on my tiptoes, I drop light kisses on his upper back, massaging his shoulders gently. I press my wet body against his and I can feel him relax into me. He leans his head back and drops one hand to his side as I drag my tongue down his back and crouch behind him.
Every bit of my attention is focused on Vin.
The changes in his breath, the way his hand fists and releases at my touch.
I spread him open and lick him softly, around the edges at first, using my fingers to massage in slow circles around his opening.
He moans, banging his forehead softly against his forearm.
I keep going until the tension in his spine shifts, dissipates, and he relaxes under my hands and mouth.
As I massage his entrance with my fingertips, his groans hit a fervor I’ve never heard from him before.
And something unexpected happens: the more into it he is, the wetter I get.
My pussy develops a steady pulse and an ache spreads down into my thighs.
My plan was to try something hot, something new, and to teach him a lesson at the same time.
I had no idea that it would turn me on so much to watch him melt at my touch.
When I press one digit of one finger inside him, he slams his palm against the shower wall. “Sophie!”
I pause, continuing to rim him, flicking my tongue right around where my finger is still inside him.
“Yellow.”
I freeze. Vin is… using my safe word? It’s the safe word that means pause, check-in, not stop entirely so that’s what I do. “Tell me what you need, padrone.”
He taps my wrist and I pull away from him, disappointed. I shouldn’t be. He tried it. He didn’t like it. I told him I would respect his choices. But it seemed like he was enjoying it more than either of us thought he would. Did I misread him that badly?
Vin steps out of the shower, and I stay where I am, crouched down, the water running down my back, not sure what to do.
He taps my shoulder and steps back into the shower. In his hands are a big bottle of lube and a very small vibrator.
I take them from him as he runs his thumb along my jaw line. “I trust you, Sophie.”
Why do those words sound deeper and more emotional than any “I love you” ever could. Especially coming from Vin Demonio.