by Nikki Chase
I swear Sophia’s going to be the death of me.
She made me laugh. She made me cry on the drive to the city when I thought about how hard it must be for her to live with her secret and hide if from me. She terrified me when I thought I was about to lose her forever.
And now, with just one look from her big, beautiful eyes, she’s making my cock twitch in my jeans.
“Yeah. I remember, too. I’ve had this truck for a long time.” I put my hand on her face, lean closer, and claim her full, soft lips. I pull away just as she begins to kiss me back. I say, “You’re talking about this, right? The first time we kissed?”
“Not really,” Sophia says into my mouth. “There were a few other things we did in this truck.”
“Oh, like this?” I put my hand on her chest and give her a squeeze.
Sophia giggles as she pulls her top off and leans in to kiss me again. She doesn’t need to give me any more encouragement.
I ravage her mouth, nibbling on her plump lips and sweeping inside with my tongue.
Earlier today, I thought I was never going to taste these lips again. And now, that’s exactly what I’m doing. That’s what I expect to keep doing for the rest of my life.
I unhook Sophia’s bra and slip my hand under the cups, grabbing her tits as I lean her back.
She’s right. This does bring back some memories . . .
Sophia’s lips were just as hot then, too, when we kissed in that deserted parking lot under the moonlight. Full, delicate, and absolutely irresistible.
I had been checking out her lips for months when I finally decided to kiss her. I liked her so much I took things slow. I didn’t want to scare her away.
She was so much younger than me, after all. And, despite the rumors going around in school, she was completely inexperienced.
“Getting déjà vu?” Sophia asks breathlessly, pulling away from me as her fingers grip my arms.
“A little, yeah,” I answer.
I glance down at her lips. They’re wet and red from the kiss. From my kiss.
Sophia moves closer, eager for more.
She has changed, though, compared to those early days. She’s more confident. More self-assured. She knows what she wants now. She’s definitely not inexperienced.
I smile to myself as I think about how I taught her everything she knows about making her body feel good.
Before I can even help it, my mind starts to reflect on the other men she has been with in the seven years we were apart. She hasn’t mentioned anything about them, but that doesn’t mean nothing has happened.
Sophia is an attractive woman, and she was trying to forget me . . .
I pin her down and crush my lips against hers, trying to erase all her memories of other men and replace them with what I’m doing right now.
If only I’d never let her go, then she would’ve only been mine and mine alone. It was all my fault, and I can only hope she won’t resent me for thinking I could let her go and move on all those years ago.
It was a stupid, youthful mistake. One I will never repeat.
Sophia puts her hands on my chest and pulls away from my kiss again. Fighting for air, she says, “You don’t have stickers on your dashboard anymore. I remember when I was lying down, at eye level, there was this one sticker that—”
I put my hand over her lips. “If you don’t stop comparing every single thing that’s different between now and then, I’ll have to shut you up myself.”
Sophia doesn’t speak a word—not that she can say anything with my hand covering her mouth. But I can feel the instant change in her demeanor.
The erratic rhythm of her breathing. The sweet submission in her eyes.
She likes it when I take control and tell her what to do—or not to do, in this case.
I grab her wrists and push them over her head, then I tie them together with the the shirt she took off. I bite her bottom lip, hard. and I whisper against her mouth, “Now, all I need is something to shut you up, and then you’ll be ready for me to use.”
A half-smile works its way across my face as I watch Sophia’s chest rise up and down rapidly, her pupils dilating.
I fumble with her fly and take off both her jeans and panties. My gaze roams all over her curves, taking in her full tits, her narrow waist, and her flared hips. I take my time until she squirms out of self-consciousness.
I don’t see why she needs to be embarrassed. Her body is fucking perfect.
“Open your mouth,” I order.
Sophia follows my demand so readily, my cock stands up at full attention. It throbs so hard it almost hurts. I was planning to take this slow, but I can’t. Not when she looks like that.
I straddle her head and pull out my cock, watching in anticipation as she licks her lips.
“Stay,” I say.
I press the head of my cock against her plump, wet lips, moving back and forth to rub myself against her, trying to hold myself back but knowing I will fail.
Giving in, I slide my cock in, pulling back when it looks like she’s struggling. There’s something arousing about her eagerness to please me, her willingness to literally gag on my cock just to make me feel good.
“Good girl,” I tell her, knowing she likes it. “If you take all of me, you may touch yourself.”
Sophia slackens her jaw and matches the rhythm of her breathing to my thrusts. Gradually, I slip deeper and deeper inside, feeling her accepting me into her throat.
“Take it, princess,” I say in a hoarse voice.
My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head as I slide all the way inside her, my balls pressing against her chin. I pull away when her eyes start to water.
I reach behind me and feel her pussy. Just as I thought, she’s wet.
“Good girl. Touch yourself,” I tell her as I undo the restraints around her wrists. “And open your mouth.”
This time, I pump all the way into her throat until I can feel the warmth and the pressure all the way to my tailbone. This must be what heaven feels like.
I breathe shallowly as I watch Sophia close her eyes and open her mouth. She must be rubbing her pussy now, so turned on by the act of pleasuring me that she can’t help herself.
Sophia sucks me harder and I groan, tangling my fingers in her hair and pulling, hard. It only makes her hand move more quickly, playing with her clit. A moan emerges from deep inside her, and I can feel the vibrations of her throat on my dick, making me lose my mind.
“I have to fuck you now,” I say.
I pull myself out of Sophia’s mouth and slide down her body until I’m positioned between her spread legs.
There’s not much space in my truck, but at least there’s padding over the central console which makes for a flat, cushy, makeshift bed in moments like this.
Sophia watches me with heavy-lidded eyes. Her mouth is open in a silent moan as her fingers continue to play with her pussy.
I grab her wrist and abruptly stop her. Giving her a crooked smile, I tie her hands together again.
Sophia groans in protest. “I was almost there.”
“Did I say you could make yourself come?” I ask.
“No,” she says softly, reluctantly. Even though it’s getting dark outside, I can see her cheeks are flushed red with arousal. “But, I was so close . . . Please let me continue.”
“No, and I should punish you for almost coming without permission.
Sophia pauses. “Are you going to fuck me now?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
“I was about to, but I just remembered something I need to do first.”
“What is it?” Sophia asks.
“You talk too much. I need to shut you up.” I find her panties on the seat next to her waist and ball it up. Holding it up for her to see, I say, “Consider this your punishment. Now, open your mouth.”
Sophia whimpers but I can tell from her eyes that she doesn’t care much what I do to her at this point. She just hopelessly, desperately needs to get off. And she’d do
anything if I take her there.
She parts her lips, and I stuff her panties inside her mouth, knowing she can almost taste herself.
“And now, I’ll fuck you,” I say, smirking.
I line the head of my cock with her opening and slide in. She’s so soaked and slippery I easily slam all the way inside her.
Sophia lets out a muffled moan. She moves her arms down to put them around me, but I pin them up over her head, limiting her range of motion.
Her hips lift off the seat, undulating like she’s begging me the only way she can to fuck her harder. She writhes on my cock, her body shuddering with arousal and frustration as I deliberately take it slow, sliding my cock all the way out before driving it back in.
Sophia wraps her legs around me and meets my thrusts, making it impossible for me to hold myself back. I start to fuck her harder and faster, plunging my cock in and out of her tight, clenching pussy.
I stare deep into her eyes, watching her lose focus. She knits her eyebrows in concentration, her jaw dropping open, letting some of her panties fall out of her mouth.
My heavy balls slap against her ass as cum boils inside me. Her tits are rocking back and forth, grazing against my chest. I grab her hair as her pussy quivers around me, sending her over the edge.
Even though her hands are tied, Sophia slaps her palms against the leather seat and moans through the panties in her mouth. Her body locks up as her pussy throbs so hard I explode inside her.
My body convulses as jolts of pleasure overwhelm my senses. I pull her hair harder as I shoot rope after rope of cum deep into her pussy.
As I come down from my climax, I loosen my grip on Sophia’s hair and pull her panties out of her mouth.
I need to hear her say it again.
“Tell me you’ll always be mine, princess.”
She looks up into my eyes, her face a picture of sated bliss. A smile plays on her lips. “I’ve always been yours, Eli.”
“I said tell me you’ll—”
“I know,” she says, her breathing still heavy and erratic. “And I’ll always be yours.”
Finally.
Fucking finally.
After all those years of waiting, after fighting against all the barriers that stand in our way, Sophia really is mine.
She always will be. I’ll make sure of it.
I’ll fuck her like a slut—the way she needs to be fucked, the way no other man can fuck her—and treat her like the princess that she is the rest of the time.
I’ll ruin her for other men so she’ll never be able to find someone to take my place.
Epilogue
Sophia—Seven Years Later
“Daisy! I didn’t know you were in town!” I walk behind the counter of Bertha’s Cupcake to give the woman a big hug.
“We just got in this morning.” She points at her husband, Caine, who’s sitting at a table with Bertha. “And he’s already bugging her about her bookkeeping.”
I shift my gaze toward the table at the back where a handsome man wearing khakis and a button-down shirt is pointing his index finger at a thick, physical book.
Bertha, distracted by us coming in, ignores him. Instead, she waves and grins at us.
I wave back then turn to Daisy, grimacing. “She still hasn’t switched to a computerized system?”
Daisy laughs. “What do you think?”
“Hi, Daisy,” Eli says as he herds the kids through the glass door.
“Hi, Eli. Oh my God, is that you, Nicole? You’re a teenager now,” Daisy gushes. She’s a sweet woman who loves kids, and we can go on for hours just trading mom tips.
“Yeah.” Nicole gives her a smile. “Hi, Daisy.”
Eli puts his hands on Ariana’s and Astrid’s shoulders. “Say hi to Daisy, kids.”
The girls shyly wave and greet Daisy.
After moving back to Ashbourne, I worked at Bertha’s Cupcakes for a few years and got to know her family even though they don’t live in town.
Her husband, now retired, lives here in Ashbourne, too. According to Daisy, he used to be a micro-manager handling multiple billion-dollar businesses. But these days, he takes it easy and doesn’t even want to hear any of Caine’s work-related news from the city.
Obviously, he doesn’t help with Bertha’s bookkeeping either. Aside from dropping in to eat some cupcakes and flirt with his wife, he doesn’t have much to do with the shop.
Daisy touches my belly. “How far along are you again? I keep forgetting?”
“Seven months now.” I give her a big grin. “On my last visit, the doctor told me he’s looking really good.”
“That’s wonderful news.” Daisy knows about my problems with infertility and shares my excitement over this miracle pregnancy.
“Yeah, and to think I thought I was deathly ill when I first felt the pregnancy symptoms.” I giggle.
“I don’t blame you. Pregnancy can be really rough . . . from what I can remember, anyway.”
We pause our little chat as Eli and the kids place their orders. Daisy and I grab a bunch of cupcakes with pink frosting and put them on a big, fancy plate.
“Maybe you’ll finally be ordering some blue cupcakes soon.” Daisy grins.
Despite Daisy’s protests, I pay for the cupcakes in full, ringing in the order myself at the register.
I know nobody in Bertha’s family is hurting for money, but that doesn’t mean I can just take their stuff for free.
I mean, the whole reason I quit working here—aside from us adopting Astrid and Ariana at the time—was because Eli’s furniture business blew up online, and he needed help dealing with the customers.
“I’ll talk to you later, okay? Looks like Eli’s got his hands full,” I say to Daisy.
“Go. Go. You told me you don’t get to spend much time with Nicole anymore, right?”
“Yeah. We have to schedule our weekly visits here or we’d never see her at all.”
“Teenagers.” Daisy rolls her eyes, laughing.
I grin as I waddle toward our table. I pull out a chair and take my seat.
“You should’ve let me take care of the payment,” Eli says. “You need to stop moving around so much.”
“I wasn’t just paying. I wanted to chat with Daisy, too.”
“I know. You can talk about the city and stuff.”
Eli still thinks I miss living in the city and working a high-powered job. The truth is, Daisy and I never discuss the city at all.
But there’s no need to tell Eli that because we talk about our kids and our men instead.
Eli doesn’t need to know that I’ve told Daisy about our seven-year separation and Nicole’s origins.
He also doesn’t need to know that even though Caine and Daisy first met at the hospital where she worked as a nurse, the next time they met was when she was moonlighting as a lingerie waitress. I was shocked when sweet, soft-spoken Daisy told me that after seeing her half-naked, Caine had paid her a large amount of money so she’d live in his apartment for a month.
I mean, I love my life. And, as far as I can tell, Daisy loves hers, too.
But when day after day I spend my time looking after my kids, sometimes it’s fun to talk about my grown-up life before the children came.
Nicole is fourteen now, so we can at least talk about make-up and boys. She has also asked me about her mom, Angela, and I told her the truth.
I told Nicole that Angela and I had used to be friends when we were her age but then stopped being close before she had a baby and left town. I also told her about Angela applying for a job at the office where I had worked in the city, which was the last time any of us ever heard from her.
Nicole had a lot of questions for me to answer, but I didn’t have much to tell her. Still, Eli and I are probably Nicole’s only sources of information on her biological mom because she lives with her Grandma, who still doesn’t like to talk about her missing daughter.
Eli and I moved out into our own place when we got married. We had the chan
ce to christen every room in the house before we adopted Astrid and Ariana, who are biological twins. They were only two years old when we got them, and they’re seven now.
I don’t know what we were thinking when we decided we could handle twins. To be fair, though, we love them and they seem to be happy, well-adjusted girls.
Even Astrid and Ariana are starting to grow more independent from us day by day. They’re eating on their own, taking the school bus on their own, and . . .
“Mom, we need to use the restroom,” Ariana announces.
“Yeah. Restroom,” Astrid parrots her sister.
I start to get up from my chair, but Eli puts his hand on my shoulder. “You should stay, pregnant lady.”
“Yeah, Mom. We can go ourselves,” Ariana says as she walks away.
Astrid says nothing as she turns her back on us, trailing behind her sister.
“Can you go with them?” Eli asks Nicole.
“Sure,” she says reluctantly, her head buried in her phone as she makes her way to the restroom, too.
Eli and I exchange a look.
“You think a boy will be easier?” I ask.
Eli laughs. “Not a chance, if he’s anything like I was.”
“You were a good kid. You helped your mom a lot, and you even helped raise Nicole.”
“Yeah. That was when I was older,” Eli says. “When I was the twins’ age? Trust me, I wasn’t an easy kid to deal with.” He notices the worry in my eyes and adds, “We’ll be okay, though. I promise you.”
“Yeah. I know.” I turn to look at the door of the restroom. “Do you remember when I hid in there, waiting for you to leave the shop?”
“Of course,” Eli says, laughing. “It feels like yesterday.”
“Yeah.”
We share a wistful look, wrapped up in our own little, private moment—a rare thing these days, with two young kids in the house.
“Did you ever regret . . .” I let my sentence hang in the air as I rethink my words. “Never mind. I’m being silly. Silly, pregnant lady.”
“Come on. You can’t just stop there.”