Chapter 50: My real wife
"You can put me down now." His wife said when they reached the foot of their bed.
Actually, there was no need to carry her to their bedroom, but despite her protests, he insisted. Besides, not wanting her to get hurt any further, he liked having her in his arms.
"Thanks," Sophia pushed her hands against his chest, when he finally let her feet touch the ground. But he didn’t let go of her. Instead, he kept his hold on her arms as if he were afraid that she might fall.
"Why does it feel like you have been avoiding me?" He said, voicing his growing suspicion.
Although he had been busy attending to various business matters, he still tried to call or text her. But his wife seemed determined to ignore her, texting him only once to say that she was busy.
"I told you, I was with your mother all day." His wife explained, her head low as if she didn’t want him to catch her eyes.
Even though that might be true, he still believed that she was only using his mother as an alibi to steer clear of him.
"Okay, but you’re here now." He let his hand crawl along her shoulders until his fingers grazed her chin. "That is what’s important." Tilting her head until her eyes finally met his.
As if caught in some sort of spell, he stepped forward as his body sought to be near her, forcing her to step backward. There was just something about her that brought out his primitive nature. He felt like a hunter who was about to hunt for his prey.
Suddenly, the air thickened with a tinge of awkwardness as her body stiffened underneath his touch. He easily sensed her nervousness as tiny beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. In that moment, she looked like a caged animal, trapped between him and the bed behind her.
"You can now let go of me." Again, she pushed harder against him, using all her might, as panic flashed before her eyes.
Ultimately, her fake bravado cracked as her lips trembled and her breathing became hollow. In those few seconds, he had a glimpse again of that scared girl that she was trying really hard to hide.
"If you say so." He responded with a smirk on his lips, finding her hot-and-cold behavior both confusing and entertaining. Nonetheless, he finally loosened his grip on her arms and released her.
Then, he stepped back and moved away towards the bathroom. "I’ll just take a shower." He paused by the door, looking back at her. "But I don’t mind if you want to join me."
Truthfully, he wanted her so much, but he was also scared to frighten her away. Despite his reputation in the business and Mafia world as a ruthless and merciless leader, he still could not force a woman to do anything she didn’t want.
And from the way she was acting, he believed she was not yet ready to give herself freely to him. She might like to act tough, but he could see easily through her hard exterior. She was nothing like the person she tried to portray herself to be.
"Maybe some other time." She answered, a little coyly. "As you said, I shouldn’t get my feet wet." She pointed at her injured foot while she avoided his penetrating gaze.
At that point, he knew it was just another excuse to keep him at a distance.
Was he wrong about her? Didn’t she feel the same way as he did?
Did he just imagine the chemistry between them?
For what seemed like hours, he stayed under the cold shower to cool himself down. As the water trickled down his body, he felt as if steam escaped his skin.
It was supposed to give him some form of relief, but every time his mind thought of her, his efforts just went in vain. In a few seconds, he was back where he had started.
"What is wrong with me?" He silently mumbled under the beating chilly droplets that bombarded his skin.
He had never wanted a woman as much as he craved her.
Was it because Sophia reminded him so much of Amelia?
Was it because it had been months since he had been with a woman that he had become a starved man?
A sex deprived man, as his friend would jokingly say.
"You need to get laid, Bro." Jacob would tease him, as his friend paraded women after women before him. But nothing could truly catch his eye.
Indeed, he was a man with needs. He tried, but every time, it was just physical satisfaction, nothing more.
No other woman had made him feel this burning sensation inside him, like Amelia did.
Until now.
But he could not claim her unless she wanted him, too.
But did she?
Eventually, he grabbed a towel, wiping his body dry before wrapping it around his waist. Then, he stepped outside the bathroom.
Honestly, he had no idea what to expect. He initially thought that he would find his wife already sleeping soundly underneath the covers.
Surprisingly, she stood on his side of the bed in the dim light of the bedside lamp, changed into her flimsy, white lace lingerie that hugged her figure like a second skin.
Damn! She looked like a Goddess in his dream.
A temptation that he could not resist.
"What are you doing?" He finally asked, squeezing the words out of his tightly constricted throat. Was this another of her games?
A few minutes ago, she could hardly stand his touch. Now, she seemed to be luring him into a fiery inferno.
"Waiting." She simply replied, as if that should answer all his questions.
In his lust-filled mind, he could only interpret that one word as an open invitation. What else could it mean?
Immediately, without wasting another second, he moved like a slick snake, covering the distance between them in one swift movement. Then, he intertwined his arms around her waist in a possessive embrace.
"Is this what you want?" His shadow fell over her, covering her slender form as he pushed her onto the bed unceremoniously.
However, before he took them further to the point of no return, he paused and stared directly into her eyes. He knew if he wanted real answers, he could only get them by reading her thoughts.
So far, he believed that nothing that came from her mouth held a one-hundred percent truth. Her lips might lie, but her eyes would never.
"Yes," She responded with eyes that never blinked. "This is what I want."
For a split second, he had a second thought, wondering if he could actually trust her. But then again, who could he trust in his world?
"If I start, I don’t think I can stop." He gave her a fair warning. "So, tell me now if you want..." But her fingers silenced him before he could say more.
"Just kiss me." She said in an alluring voice that sounded familiar.
Damn! Why couldn’t he keep her out of his mind?
When he decided to move on and try to make this marriage work, he was determined to forget about Amelia. But why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
"No! I have to forget about her." He muttered to himself. It wasn’t fair to Sophia if he kept using her as a substitute for Amelia.
If he was going to commit to Sophia, he had to learn to love her, not Amelia.
"If you insist." Finally, determined to put his past behind him, he lowered his lips and claimed hers in a demanding, passionate kiss.
Two lips that molded into one. Both hungry, both forgetting the past, present, and even the future, and both lost in the moment.
"Fuck, I want you." He could not deny it, unable to keep his longing to himself anymore.
Slowly, as if moving with ease and familiarity, he slipped the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder, pushing it downward until he had her upper body exposed to his eyes.
This time, he let her lips run wild along her neck and down to her collarbones, tracing a wild path down the twin peaks of her desire.
"Tell me that you also want this." He needed her words, even though her body had already told him what he wanted to hear.
Without waiting for an answer, he took her right breast into his mouth, biting, nibbling, and sucking, until it had reached its full potential. While his other hand kneaded the other, not wanting it to feel neglected.
"Fucking gorgeous!" He mumbled as her nipples glistened under the dim light, turned as hard as a rock, and her breasts stood at full attention under his ministrations.
As if she also wanted a part in the action, he felt her fingers travel from his shoulder and work their way down his arms, gliding, squeezing, pinching every bit of his muscles.
"You don’t look bad yourself." She finally said when her fingers landed on his chest, touching and tracing every line until she settled on the edge of the towel that covered the lower half of his body.
At this point, he knew that they had reached the point of no return. There was no more turning back now.
"I want you, Sophia." He said again, before pulling her up and reversing their position. "Not just your body." He said, which surprised him, but not as much as it surprised her.
"I want you to be my real wife." There, he said it.
At that moment, the ball was now at her court. She had control of the situation as she sat on top of him, eyes locked on his, and lips parted.
"What?"
