Page 77 of Always Mine
I find comfort in his words, but the enormity of what lies ahead weighs on me. “These next few weeks are going to be huge. I wish we could stay in this little bubble for a bit longer.”
“I know, Kitten. So whaddya say—wanna save another horse?”
With that, he flips me over so his body is braced over mine and gets back in the saddle, making up for lost time.
Chapter forty-nine
Pop Goes The Bubble
Marco
Theweekendflewbyin a blur. I did my best to deliver on Sophia’s wish to stay cocooned in our little love bubble until we had to burst free to face our respective responsibilities. It was unspoken, but I could feel it in the way we touched that we were trying to make up for lost time. Primal passion ebbing to the peacefulness of finally being together. In the space between heaven and reality, the hours turned morning into night. The only cares we had involved fucking, making love, catching up on six years’ worth of stories, watching Netflix, laughing at nothing and everything, playing truth or dare, and eating breakfast in bed—with a side of eating her for breakfast. Messages went unanswered, calls went to voicemail, and we let our phone batteries drain completely.
But, unfortunately, work beckoned, and regular programming needed to resume. It’s the chime of a message notification loud as church bells on a Sunday morning that wakes me from a peaceful sleep. Sophia is wrapped around me, so I try not to jostle her as I reach for my phone and open the text.
Unknown number:
I dare you. *Audio file attached* *Image attached*
Just three words. A threat veiled as a warning. I feel the blood swoosh in my ears, and rage course through me. I zoom in on the image first. It’s from one of my late night meetings with Rizzo and AJ as we worked out the La Rosa deal. Next, I listen to the expertly sliced and mastered piece of audio. It’s a mashup of a conversation between me, Rizzo, and AJ, and audio from the night I pinned Arty up against the wall. It captures his gasping and spluttering as well as Sophia’s pleading begs. It’s all I need to tell me who it is and the reason for his message.
Together, the image and audio paint a very compelling story—I’m a dangerous thug linked to the Mafia, and Arty is the innocent victim. I must tread carefully here. Not only for Sophia, but also for my father and Sebastian. This type of publicity could ruin the stellar reputation of Vault Enterprises and Bella Donna, and my dad and Seb don’t deserve to be dragged into my feud with this scumbag.
I fucking hate feeling like I am on the back foot. Especially when it involves my family and the woman I love. The beauty who’s finally mine and sleeping soundly in the bed I now consider ours.
I’ve been taking my irritation out on the bag for almost an hour when Sophia pads in barefoot. Sexy in that just-woken-but-not-fully-alert way. Her hair is in a messy half-up, half-down topknot, and she’s wearing only my thin white t-shirt that falls mid-thigh, showing off her slender legs and the curve of her smooth shoulder peeking out from the side that’s fallen off. One look and rage morphs into ravenous need for her. The way her nipples peak and peep through the thin cotton. The outline of herpussy at the apex of her thighs enough to put my entire body on high alert for an entirely different reason.
“It’s only 6 a.m. How long have you been up?” she asks sleepily, covering the sweet mewl of a yawn with her hand.
It’s funny how the nickname I’ve given her perfectly matches the sight before me. Innocent and adorable. Yet all I can think about is doing unspeakable things to her so she can feel my desperation to keep her safe. To drill into her how seriously I take my duty of care to protect her. To let her meet the beast within, ready to fight for her at all costs.
I reach for her, knocking her off balance as I grab a fistful of my t-shirt and pull her hard and fast into my sweaty, bare chest. Her breath hitches and her eyes grow bigger, laced with concern but also a flicker of wildness matching the gallop of my heart hammering in my chest. Catching her off guard, I hit her with a searing kiss, taking her bottom lip between my teeth, giving it a nip to demand entrance into her mouth. I kiss her like she’s the air I breathe until we’re both breathless. She pulls away and pushes lightly on my chest, so she can search my face for answers to the questions I have no words to explain right now.
“Babe, what’s the matter?” she implores.
I just need her. Need to be in her. To feel connected in the only way I know that can bring me peace. Desperate to pour all I am into her. “I need you,” I rasp. “I need to fuck you hard. Take control. So even when I’m not there you feel me deep in your bones. Trust me.” It’s a demand more than a question.
She nods, her big eyes blown the color of deep whiskey. I feel the tremor of her need against my body.
“With everything I have.”
Before she can say another word, I lift her up. She instinctively wraps her legs around my hips, the heat of her bare pussy radiating into my skin. We continue to kiss like we’re ravenous for each other as I walk us across the room towards the bench. I grab a clean hand wrap off the hook on my way.
I place her on the end of the bench, then strip the t-shirt from her body. “Lie down, baby. Hands above your head,” I command.
Chapter fifty
Precious Cargo
Sophia
Keepingmyeyesonhim, I obey, positioning myself so my upper body takes up most of the length of the bench, my knees bent over the end, feet flat on the floor. He stands between my legs, the move inadvertently causing me to part wider so my pussy is on full display for him. I’m so wet already, but the sight of his rock-hard cock throbbing behind the soft fabric of his training shorts is doing things to me. I am at his mercy, and I don’t care if he ruins me.
“Already so fucking soaked for me,” he croaks. Leaning over, he takes my left nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking as he wraps a hand around both of my wrists, setting them in a comfortable position. He repeats the same ministrations on my opposite nipple, and I arch my back, seeking more friction. Our breaths are heavy and choppy, in perfect tempo with the throb of my clit. He winds the hand wrap around my wrists, so they’re secured above my head. I whimper as he kisses his way down my body, his hands roaming my dips and valleys, taking a final swipe through my dripping center before standing between my spread thighs.
He shucks off his shorts and boxers and kicks them to the side. He pumps his stiff, veiny length a few times before he speaks.
“Now you’re going to listen to me. I love that you’re an independent woman who can make her own decisions. But from now on, when you’re not with me, I need to know where you are, who you’re with, and when plans change.”