The Sleeping Serpent: A woman's struggle to break an obsessive bond with her yoga master

by Luna Saint Claire

  She replied proudly, “I did it for you, Nico. Your very first Christmas tree.” Walking over to him in her Jimmy Choo pumps, she didn’t have to stand on tiptoes when she kissed him invitingly. He played with her hair while their tongues danced together. Sofia whispered, “You smell so good, Nico.” Happily, she didn’t smell Erin’s sex. Instead, he smelled like citrus, as if he’d just taken a shower.

  “You’re so good to me, Sofia. Why are you so good to me?” he murmured sheepishly, his face buried in her neck.

  Combing his hair back away from his face with her fingers, she stared deeply into his smoldering eyes; the yellow flecks glinted from the lights of the tree. “You’re my angel, Nico. I love you and want to be here for you, to help you fly. I want us to be together. We’re a good team.”

  “I don’t deserve you, Sofia,” he mumbled.

  While Nico changed into his sweats, she put out some guacamole and chips and the rotisserie chicken she’d picked up on the way home. After she poured them each another glass of wine, they sat on the sofa, staring at the tree for a long time. Remembering the seahorse ornaments, Sofia retrieved a beautifully wrapped package. Taking the pretty package, Nico balked, “I can’t open this now, it’s not Christmas yet!”

  Reassuring him, she said, “This is a special, before-Christmas gift. Go ahead, open it!”

  Shaking his head, he hesitantly opened the package extremely slowly, first untying the bow. He handed her the ribbon, instructing, “Don’t throw that away. It’s very beautiful ribbon.”

  Sofia laughed to herself, thinking, Yes, I know—I bought it. Leaning over, she kissed him again on the lips.

  Corner by corner, he undid the tape so as not to tear one bit of the wrapping, again saying, “Save the paper. We can use it again.”

  She nodded, waiting patiently.

  With the package finally open, he gazed speechlessly, as if he’d opened a treasure chest of precious jewels, until Sofia lifted his face and saw his eyes were filled with tears.

  “Seahorses mean so much to me.” His voice was just above a whisper. “When I was a little kid, my mom and I used to find them on the beach. Sofia, you’re a gift from my mother.”

  After hanging each seahorse, Nico stood back to ensure the placements were perfect. Returning to the sofa, he laid his head in Sofia’s lap, staring at the shimmering Christmas tree. Eventually, his eyes closed and his breathing quieted. Sofia thought he was asleep. Then he suddenly whispered, “Did you finish the article about me living with the paqos?”

  “Yes, I did Nico, and you can read it tomorrow.”

  “Good,” he yawned. “I need that article for Erin to make the documentary about me.” Moments later, he fell asleep.

  Sofia got up early and began preparing a special Christmas Eve spinach, tomato, and bacon frittata. Nico called it a revuelto, but basically it was the same thing. She opened a bottle of Prosecco, since she had no plans to leave the house other than yoga on the deck followed by a long walk down the beach, even going in the pool if it was warm enough. But for now, because it was Christmas, she went for a sexy Santa’s helper look, wearing a cute cranberry cotton Elle Macpherson chemise, sassy Santa hat, and Brian Atwood floral print high-heeled sandals. In contrast to her outfit, Nico shuffled into the kitchen in his Adidas shower slippers and poured himself a mug of coffee, asking groggily, “Can we put the tree lights on again?”

  “Of course, Nico. Why not?”

  He flicked the lights on, then stared at the tree for a while. Completely ignoring her sexy Santa outfit, he started reading the article she’d written. After putting the frittata in the oven, she poured two glasses of Prosecco and sipped hers while she nervously watched him read, awaiting his approval.

  Placing the heavy iron skillet onto a trivet in the center of the table, Sofia served them both generous portions of the savory frittata. Nico ate heartily without complimenting her on the meal, but when he scooped up seconds, she was pleased he was enjoying it.

  After breakfast, Nico handed Sofia his comments on the article, then made himself comfortable on the sofa and watched a movie while she revised it. Sensing he was in a mood and it wasn’t going to go smoothly, she took off her shoes and the cute Santa hat and poured herself another glass of Prosecco. When she gave the article to him to read again, he got snippy.

  “I never said this,” he pointed to one phrase. “Why did you say it like that? It’s all wrong.”

  Sofia remained stoic when, handing it back to her, Nico softly said, “Sorry, just make it right, please.” When he finally said it was fine and he’d send it to Erin, she was relieved, despite the obliteration of her original plans for a romantic day.

  Pouring herself another glass of Prosecco, Sofia plopped into the double-wide white club chair. Propping ikat pillows behind herself, she threw her legs over the arm and called Lindsay. Giggling, they caught up on the latest gossip, and eventually Sofia got down to business. She knew her friend wouldn’t let her down after making certain the last article had been picked up by a major publication. After thanking Lindsay for her help with Nico and wishing her a Merry Christmas, they hung up.

  Overhearing, Nico quickly chastised her. “Why did you thank her? You’re such a moron. She should be thanking me for giving her an article to pitch to those magazines.”

  Not wanting to get into it with him, Sofia scurried into the kitchen to wash the breakfast dishes.

  About a half hour later, Nico came looking for her to tell her that Mario had called from La Forza, inviting him to the restaurant that night. He was preparing a traditional Christmas Eve seafood dinner, and because it was also his friend Paolo’s birthday, some of Nico’s old friends would be there, too.

  Sofia’s mind whirled. She’d never met any of his friends, and still hadn’t met his family. She waited, but when he didn’t say anything more, she suggested, “Nico, it’ll be fun. Shouldn’t we go?” She noticed he was avoiding looking at her directly.

  He resisted. “I would Sofia. I’m just not sure. All my friends will be there with their model girlfriends.”

  His implication stung, and though she didn’t want to react, she felt she had to make a point. Her voice was shrill and taut. “What are you saying, Nico? I’m not good enough because I’m not a model? Is that what’s most important to you?” Pausing to take a deep breath, she pointedly declared, “I’m attractive, smart, and talented. I write for one of the hottest TV shows out right now. If dating a model is so important to you, then what are you doing with me?”

  Nico remained nonresponsive, angering Sofia, who wasn’t going to let it go. She fumed, “I get it, Nico. I have a house in Malibu and a Porsche I let you drive. I do a lot for you—writing articles and getting them published, organizing your paperwork. And I buy you nice things and take us out to dinner. I’m certainly good enough for all that, right?”

  Nico stared at the floor, his face sagging slightly. “Sofia, you’re my woman. It’s just that my friends are rich and flashy and expect me to be that way, too. I have the hottest yoga studio in Los Angeles—shit, in the entire country! They expect me to be with a top model or a hot actress.”

  Incensed, she sneered, “Oh, they expect you to be with some dumb-ass model instead of a pretty, fashionable, smart, and successful woman?” She paused, staring Nico down, but he continued to avoid eye contact. She finally spat, “Well, Nico, why don’t you go without me, then?”

  Abruptly, he pulled her to him, grabbing her ass with both hands. Chagrined, he appealed, “We are together, Sofia, and we’re going to my dad’s tomorrow, so let’s just stay in as planned tonight. We’ll drink that special bottle of wine and admire our beautiful tree, and then go skinny-dipping in the pool.”

  When Sofia remained icy, he leaned over and kissed her tenderly, nibbling on her ear, then trailed his tongue along her jaw and down her neck. Tightening his grip on her butt, he pulled her to him and squeezed one of her tits.

  She let out of deep sigh of acquiescence. Seeing she had defrosted
toward him, he amped up the passion, playing with her tits over her chemise to make her nipples harden underneath the satin. Sofia responded by pressing her body into him and rubbing herself on his muscular thigh.

  Slipping his tongue into her mouth, he flicked it around the tip of her tongue, then sucked on her lower lip, tugging gently with his teeth. Her nipples pushed against his hands, and he squeezed them hard, taking her just to the point of pain, and she wiggled against his groin. “You want more, Sofia?” he teased.

  “Nico,” she appealed huskily, “Suck them…please.”

  “You like when I play with your tits?”

  “Oh, yes, Nico. More…please,” she gasped.

  Sliding the thin strap of the chemise off her shoulder, he lifted her tits and licked each nipple in turn, sucking and pinching them until they were long and hard. “You have such beautiful tits. So round and big.”

  Arching under his teasing tongue and pretty words, she reached for his fly, feeling him straining at the zipper. His engorged cock now freed, she stroked him, sweeping her fingers playfully around the tip, then slid her hand softly down his shaft toward his balls, where she tantalized him by letting her fingers roam to his anus. He purred into her ear, “Put those shoes back on.” He pointed to the sandals in the middle of the room where she had abandoned them.

  She purposely bent over with her ass toward him as she slipped the heels back on, and Nico fondled her from behind, murmuring huskily, “Spyder, you can be so hot…and your magnificent tits,” he moaned, rubbing against her ass from behind. “Much hotter than those flat models. Walk for me,” he commanded, adding instructions. “Walk to the tree and back—and keep your eyes on mine.”

  Though she knew he was playing her, Sofia couldn’t help herself, she still loved the things he was saying. Combing her hands through her hair and pushing it back so it would gain volume, she sashayed toward the tree in her best high-heeled sexy sway. Slowly she turned around, thrusting one hip out to the side and slightly bending one knee to adopt a stance that amplified her luxuriant curves. Raising one arm, she fixed her gaze on him as she voluptuously pushed her lavish mane to one side. Even from across the room she could see the glow in his eyes. He had hold of his cock, tugging on it heartily, his mouth upturned in a hungry grin. Sofia went moist, drinking in the sight of his excitement for her. When his eyes locked onto hers, she felt a magnetic pull from him, and returned, swaying even more seductively than before.

  When she was standing in front of him, Nico lifted her by the waist, sitting her on the dining table. He pushed the satin chemise up so he could see her pussy, wet and swollen, waiting for him. His powerful, long-fingered hands caressed her thighs, working slowly up until they reached their destination. Sliding two fingers into her pussy, he felt her wetness. “You are always so ready for me,” he softly murmured.

  She leaned back, her hair cascading over her shoulders and back. He kissed her neck and clavicle, then planted wandering kisses down her body all the way to her pussy. “Fuck me, Nico. I want you inside me,” she gasped.

  “Not yet.” Sliding his hands underneath her butt, he lifted her to his mouth. His tongue found its way inside her, and he flicked it deep, lapping up the juices. Pushing hard against his mouth, she squirmed as he licked her from the rim of her pussy to her clit, sucking on it until she was close to the edge. Crying out in ecstasy, she arched her body as he pushed his fingers deep inside, rotating them around to open her wider. Inserting a third finger, he pressed them along the slick walls of her pussy, seeking her G-spot. Surging upward, Sofia let out a tiny squeal, fucking his hand while he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion inside her. Panting, she quivered, her juices flowing onto his hand and down his wrist.

  Reaching his other hand up, he pinched her nipples between his fingers and pulled on them. An unrelenting need swept over her, making her clit ache. With her nipples on fire, she begged, “Nico, fuck me. I want to come on you.”

  Mercilessly, he knelt down to lick her clit, and purred, “I’m not done with you yet. In time I’ll let you come.” Working each finger magically along her hot spot until all his fingers were inside, he slowly maneuvered his hand in up to his wrist. With his fist deep inside her and his mouth nibbling and pulling on her clit, she writhed in bliss from the sensation. Feeling her orgasm build, her legs tightened and her hips lifted off the table. A powerful tension uncoiled, releasing enormous waves of contractions that rippled from deep in her belly, over and over, and she squirted, gushing forcefully, calling out his name. She had never had an orgasm like that before, and utterly spent, collapsed back onto the table. Nico gently removed his fist from her pussy and pulled her toward him, leaving her wide open.

  Knowing he couldn’t hold back much longer, he wrapped her legs around his waist, digging his fingers into her ass, and plunged relentlessly all the way in. Fucking her with an urgency bordering on desperation, he went harder and faster until he exploded, growling as he jetted intensely inside her. Pulling her ass up and pressing her against him, he relished the feeling of his cock at the back of her pussy through the last pulse of his ejaculation. Exhausted by his release, he collapsed over her. Her legs encircling him and feeling his cock twitching in the aftermath of orgasm, she held him close and entwined her fingers in his damp hair.

  Christmas morning, Sofia woke with Nico wrapped around her body, his breathing heavy on her neck. Gently moving his arm, she slid first one leg, then the other, out from underneath him. Looking at him sleeping peacefully, she thought like a little lamb. But a lamb who turns into a maned lion at the drop of a hat. What was the drop of a hat anyway? She made mental note to Google that later. But first, Christmas breakfast of blueberry pancakes, made with tart Greek yogurt so that they were fluffy, and real Vermont maple syrup. She still had another bottle of Prosecco, too. As the pancakes were made, she placed them in the warming oven, and when she was just about finished, she went in and kissed Nico on the forehead, whispering, “Merry Christmas. Breakfast is served.”

  Nico stumbled into the kitchen in long shorts, baggy T-shirt, and Adidas shower slippers, and poured a mug of freshly brewed coffee, black, the way he liked it. Sipping on the hot brew, he tried to swipe a pancake off the top of the stack, but Sofia smacked him with the spatula and told him to sit at the table. He obeyed. The tree lights were on, so Nico sat where he could look at them while he ate. “What time are we expected at your dad’s house?” Sofia inquired.

  “He didn’t say. But we can go early. It’s a nice day, and we can look at the houses around there.”

  Sofia dressed casually in black jeans, a black crew neck, and a Chanel red tweed jacket, perfect for Christmas. While lacing up ankle boots with a short block heel she asked, “Do you know who else will be there?” When Nico replied he hadn’t asked, Sofia wasn’t surprised, thinking to herself, Of course not—he wouldn’t care.

  Changing his shirt for the third time, Nico asked again if he looked OK, his little show of nervousness cute and endearing to her. Finally, he chose John Varvatos dark wash jeans and a plaid woven shirt she had bought him, over which he put on the black cashmere sweater Luna had given him.

  When they’d finished dressing, Sofia said, “Let’s open our gifts before we go.”

  He looked surprised. “I thought the seahorses were my gift! I didn’t get a chance to wrap yours—I wanted to wrap it nice with the paper.”

  Sofia chuckled sweetly. “It’s fine, Nico. No big deal, really.”

  Opening a drawer in the dresser, he pulled out a paper shopping bag with Dior printed on it, then handed it to her. Knowing he absolutely could not afford Dior, Sofia was skeptical. Yet, inside was the quintessential little black dress. Mid-thigh and slightly longer in the back, it was sleeveless, with a round neck. How did he manage to always get it right? She was certain this had come from Erin’s office. There was no way he could know what to get her, let alone afford this dress. Knowing better than to say anything that would provoke him, she exclaimed, “Nico, thank you so
much! It’s perfect! I love it!” Wrapping her arms around his neck, but leaving his perfectly styled hair alone, she kissed him several times on the lips.

  Handing him his two gifts, she prayed he wouldn’t spend an hour unwrapping, but she knew better. He sat at the table, undoing everything slowly and methodically, as if disarming explosives.

  First, he opened the David Yurman bracelet. She didn’t have to point out the engraving because he examined the bracelet carefully, and when he saw it, laughed out loud. “Spyder! I love it!”

  She clasped it onto his wrist. Next was the Il Bisonte Dopp kit. Unzipping it and looking at the plaid fabric, he fretted, “This is too nice…what if something spills inside?”

  Sofia reassured him, “The fabric is water repellent, like an umbrella.”

  “That’s good. I don’t want to ruin it,” he mumbled. When he acted sweet like he was, as if he thought he wouldn’t get any Christmas presents, Sofia wondered what it had been like for him growing up.

  Nico was serious about buying a house and having a vineyard with his father. On weekends, he took Sofia with him to look at properties. She loved getting on the back of his bike, holding herself tightly against him and leaning into the turns—feeling content knowing he wanted her in his life. Sofia visualized living in the country, married to Nico and having a family. He’d been asking her if she could get the money from her father to buy a house and start the vineyard. But she was curious why he should want so desperately to share his dreams with his dad, since he had left Nico and his sister as young children. From the stories Nico told, he was ten when he was sent to live with his dad, who owned a trendy Upper East Side restaurant that remained open till dawn catering to an after-hours crowd of celebrities. Nico boasted about pilfering money and cigarettes from the handbags of the endless stream of women who came to the apartment and had sex with Roberto and his friends. Pretending it was cool, Nico would excuse his dad’s behavior, saying that was just the way things were back then. Still, with his mom gone, Sofia was glad he was bonding more with his father. Though she wasn’t with her family this Christmas, she was excited about spending it with Nico and meeting his dad.