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I nod tersely, and Raoul starts to explain more, but I wave a hand at him, already heading for the stairs. “You can debrief me later. Right now, I want to see my wife.”
“Of course, sir.”
I take the stairs two and then three at a time, going straight for the guest room that I’d given to Sofia as hers. And then I halt, realizing what Raoul had said.
She’s in your room.
Even though I’d told Sofia she could go back to her room, she’s in mine instead, after what must have been one of the most terrifying nights of her life.
In my bed.
The feeling that overtakes me is something like insanity, a madness that I can’t stop as my last frail thread of control snaps. I stride towards the bedroom door, throwing it open without a second thought as I walk into the room and see Sofia huddled against a mountain of pillows, a blanket over her legs.
“Luca.”
My name whispered on her lips, sounds like a prayer. Like she’s asking for me. Asking me to save her, like I’ve done a dozen times already.
Like I’d do a hundred times again.
I’m at her side in a flash, grabbing her by the arms, hauling her up to her knees as I bend down to kiss her. I need her lips on mine, her body against mine, around me, enveloping me. I feel as if I can’t breathe, as if I’ll die if I don’t have her now, without any more arguments.
Without any more second thoughts.
She moans against my mouth, her arms wrapping around my neck, and her reaction goes through me like a shock. I’d expected her to push me away, maybe even to be angry with me for leaving her here at all, to tell me to go fuck myself.
That if I can’t keep her safe like I’d promised, then there’s no reason for her to be here at all.
But instead, she melts into me, her mouth parting as my tongue slides over her lower lip, plunging into her mouth the way I want to sink into her body. I bury my hands into the silk of her dark hair, feeling it run through my fingers and tangle around them as I groan into her mouth, so hard that I feel as if my cock might break. My entire body is throbbing with need for her, my pulse in my throat as I lift her up and lay her back against the pillows, stretching out over her as I kiss her again and again, until I can feel certain that she’s really here.
That she’s alive.
Sofia moans, arching up against me as her fingers trail through my hair, scratching over my scalp, down to my jaw. She runs her fingertips over the stubble there, caressing me like she’s never done before, her hands moving down to the buttons of my shirt. She pulls at them, yanking and tugging until the shirt is hanging open and loose, her palms sliding over the smooth, muscled expanse of my chest as she pants against my mouth, her body soft and warm in my hands.
And then she goes very still underneath me, pulling back from the kiss to look up at me with those wide, dark eyes.
“You came back,” she whispers. “I didn’t know—”
I stare down at her. “Of course I came back.” My voice sounds unfamiliar to me, deep and husky, rough with a need that I’ve never felt before. “I was on the jet the second they told me.”
“I—you were with your friends—I thought—” she swallows hard, licking her lips. “I thought you’d be busy with some other woman—”
Fuck.My heart pounds in my chest, and I tangle my hand in her hair, tilting her head back so that her eyes meet mine and she can’t look away. “I tried. There were plenty of women there, plenty of chances. I was going to. I wanted to fuck you out of my system, to forget how you—howthismakes me feel. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t fucking do it.” The words rush out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I surge forward, pressing myself against her as I hold her tightly in my grasp. “Do you feel how fucking hard you make me? That’s how I’ve been for days, weeks, thinking about you. I can hardly think about anyone else. Every time I touch myself, it’s you in my thoughts. Every time I go to sleep, I see you. Every time I come home, I see you in my bed, and all I want is to be inside of you.”
Sofia is staring up at me, speechless, but I can’t stop. Everything I’ve been bottling up comes pouring out, like a drunken confession, except I’m not intoxicated on anything except her.
“You’re like a drug. An obsession. And it only gets worse every time. All I can think about is you—the sounds you make when I touch you, how you feel…how you taste. I can’t fucking get you out of my head. Sofia—"
She looks up at me, her hands sliding down either side of my face, and I can feel her body arching upwards towards mine, drawn to me like a moth to a flame.
And right now, I don’t care if we both get burned.
Her hands slide over my shoulders, pushing my shirt off, throwing it to the floor. I watch her face as she slides her hands over my arms, touching, squeezing, sliding down my chest, and I shudder with pleasure at her touch. I don’t know if it feels so fucking good because it’s been weeks since I’ve been with anyone else—with anyone at all, other than our wedding night—or just because I want her so badly that I can hardly stand it, but nothing has ever felt this good.
I don’t think anything could stop me right now—not if a hundred Bratva came down on this house, or a thousand. I’m completely lost in her—in her touch, her scent, the taste of her mouth as I kiss her again and again, groaning with the pleasure of it as I feel her legs wrap around my waist, and I know that she wants me just as badly.
She’s only wearing a thin tank top and a pair of soft pajama pants. I slide my hand up beneath the fabric of her shirt, up the flat smoothness of her belly, to the full curve of her breast, her nipple stiffening under my touch as I cup her breast in my hand, my cock throbbing as I squeeze her there, desperate to be inside of her.
But now that we’re here, I don’t want to rush, even as my body strains towards hers with a need I’ve never known before. I want to savor her, to touch every inch.
I grab a fistful of the tank top, resisting the urge to tear it, dragging it up over her head instead so that I can see all of her lovely pale skin, her breasts swaying softly as she raises her arms for me to pull it off. If I’d thought she was beautiful before, intoxicating before, it’s nothing compared to her willing and pliable under my hands, her face soft and open as she reaches up to pull me down for a kiss again.
Even as my lips brush over hers, I’m already fumbling with the waist of her pajamas, pulling them down over her hips as my hand slides between her legs. The whimper that she makes when I trace my fingers through the wetness there, the sound that turns into a moan, almost makes me come undone.
I’ve never been as turned on in my life as I am when I see her naked on the bed underneath me, arching upwards for my touch, her soft pink lips parted and gasping as she leans up for me to kiss her again.
“I want you,” I whisper roughly, tangling my hand in her hair as I pull her mouth up to mine. “Say yes, Sofia. Please. Say yes.”
