“Trying,” he grits out. “Hard to focus when you’re—fuck—when you’re doing that.”
I smile and return to his cock, taking him deep again. This time I don’t stop. I set a rhythm: not fast, but steady and relentless deep strokes that have him hitting the back of my throat each time. My hand works in tandem with my mouth, twisting slightly on the upstroke, squeezing on the down.
Above me, he’s abandoned any pretense of eating. Both his hands are in my hair now, gentle but firm, holding me steady as his hips begin to move. Small thrusts that match my rhythm. I relax completely, let him take what he needs, my hands braced on his thighs.
“Sophie, baby, I’m going to—” His voice breaks. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth—”
I double down, taking him as deep as I can and swallowing, my throat working around him.
“Sophie!”
He breaks hard, his whole body going rigid. His cock pulses on my tongue, thick ropes of cum flooding my mouth. I swallow it all, wanting every drop, working him through it with gentle suction and soft strokes until he’s gasping and gripping the table above me.
When the aftershocks finally subside, I clean him with long, loving licks that make him shudder and curse. When I’m done, Irest my cheek against his thigh, his softening cock still resting in my mouth, and close my eyes.
His fingers stroke through my hair, tender and reverent.
“Fuck, you’re fucking amazing. Having you as my wife would be fucking—”
He stops himself and my heart stops along with him, then starts again at triple speed.
I open my eyes and tilt my head to look up at him. He’s staring down at me, his expression stunned, like he can’t quite believe what just came out of his own mouth.
“Vin—”
“Don’t.” His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing my swollen bottom lip as his jaw tightens. “Don’t say anything. Just stay there. Keep it in your mouth. Let me finish my dinner.”
I obey, turning my face to press a kiss into his palm, then gently take his soft cock back in my mouth and hold it there, warming it.
His exhale is relieved.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. “My perfect girl.”
I hum softly in agreement, and he shudders.
“So beautiful on your knees for me, that sweet mouth full of my cock. Do you know what you do to me,regina?”
I can’t answer with my mouth full, but I gaze up at him, letting all the devotion, the absolute surrender I feel show in my eyes. He reads it there and he swallows hard.
“You’re mine,” he says roughly, pulling on my hair enough to move my head back so I can see him better. “You understand that? Mine, Sophia. I own this mouth, those big fucking beautiful eyes, that wet pussy, and your fat ass. All of it.”
Warmth floods through me, sweet and devastating. He doesn’t say I love you. He might never say those words. But this is so much better.
For now, kneeling between his thighs with his cock resting soft and warm in my mouth while he finishes the dinner I made with love, it’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s everything.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs between bites. “You make me so happy, baby. Do you know that? You make yourpadroneso fucking happy.”
A tear slips down my cheek, an overflow of all the feelings.
His thumb catches it, wipes it away. “Hey, no crying,bella. I’ve got you.”
He cups my face with both hands, tilting my head back so I’m looking directly up at him. His cock slips from my mouth.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he says quietly. “I don’t know how to be what you deserve. But I know I want you. All of this. The idea of not coming home to you, to your food, to your smile, to your perfect fucking mouth—fuck.”
He leans down and kisses me. It’s deep and slow and devastating. When he pulls back, his eyes are fierce.
“I want to try to figure this out with you, if you’ll be patient with me. Because you’re mine, Sophie Bellamorte, and I take care of what’s mine.”
