Bound by Honor

14. Sofia

14

SOFIA

W e walk through the door of our darkened home, the heaviness of the evening's meeting with our most trusted men still clinging to us like a second skin. Besides Franco, Marco, and Gino, I’ve recently learned that most of my father’s men have remained loyal and are ready to pledge an oath to me as his heir. I’ve ordered my men to begin our preemptive strike at Alessio Bello’s downtown club tonight. If all goes well, I’ll be one step closer to avenging my father’s death.

Climbing upstairs, I can feel the tension rolling off Rocco in waves, taste the electrified air between us that’s charged with more than an evening spent preparing for battle, and feel his hand tremble as he locks the bedroom door behind us, a subtle tell betraying his stoicism.

“I don’t like it,” Rocco finally says. “We were supposed to be a united front, but your insistence on striking first feels like you want them to come after you, hoping you’ll get the chance to cut Antonio down alone. You’re playing with fire, Sofia.”

I turn to face him, leaning back against the cool wood of the door. “I have to do this, Rocco. We’ve been over this—I can handle myself.” My words are firm, but inside, my heart races—a mix of fear and exhilaration.

Rocco steps closer, the gap between us now just a breath as he runs a calloused hand through his hair. “It’s not about handling yourself. It's about keeping you safe,” he implores, his eyes searching mine for understanding.

“If I step back now,” I insist, my tone sharpening with determination despite my attempt to stay calm, "then Antonio Bello will know I’m too scared to face him alone. He’ll believe I need you or all five families to face him. I know we need to take him on as a unified force, but he needs to know I’m not afraid of him."

Rocco closes his eyes briefly, pain flickering across his features before he opens them again to gaze deeply into mine. This standstill could draw on forever if I let it—our wills locked in a silent battle. My hands find his chest, solid beneath my palms.

“You know this is something I have to do.” The words escape my lips in a soft, pleading whisper as I lean closer to him. Our lips are almost touching, but there’s a small space between us, giving him the choice to pull away or stay. My heart races with hope that he’ll choose the latter.

Rocco looks into my eyes, a storm brewing in his dark gaze. "I know," he breathes back, the heat of his words grazing my face.

Rocco’s hands find their way to my cheeks, cupping them gently before pulling me into him, eliminating any space between us. He sighs heavily but captures my lips with his, rough and needy. His hands slide down my back and tighten around my hips, pulling me firmly against him. There's surrender in that kiss—a yielding of arguments.

When we break apart for air, there's a fire in Rocco’s dark eyes—a burning that stirs deep within me, too. Rocco’s demeanor quickly shifts—he becomes both protector and lover —fierce and gentle in turns. Without words, he guides me backward toward our bed. We move against each other slowly, and the rest of the world fades away until there’s only the sound of our synchronized breathing and the soft rustle of fabric. We help each other shed our clothes piece by piece, and with every layer we discard, our exposed skin seeks warmth from the other.

Rocco lowers me gently onto the plush comfort of our bed, his body hovering over mine. His lips trace a path from my jaw down my neck, pausing at the base, where he plants soft kisses before continuing downward. His journey doesn’t stop until he’s at my core, where I quiver in anticipation.

With a tender nudge of his nose against my inner thigh, he parts my legs carefully. The room spins slightly as his tongue finds me, drawing a shaky breath from deep within me. The slow tease of his lips, combined with the deliberate flicks of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure crashing over me.

“Oh, Rocco.” His name falls from my lips like a prayer as he continues his attentive ministrations—each lap adding another brick to the fortress building inside me. My hands find purchase in his hair, guiding him subtly, though he needs little direction.

My body responds with an eagerness I can't control, pushing toward him, seeking the indescribable pleasure he provides. His movements grow more intentional now, focused on places that draw the sharpest exhales from my lungs.

Heat spirals within me, building a friction that Rocco seems attuned to prolong and intensify with every stroke and flick of his skilled tongue. The coil inside me tightens exquisitely—his name becoming a chant on my lips as pressure mounts into an overwhelming crescendo until everything breaks—my body shuddering as he helps guide me through each pulse of my climax with his mouth still devoutly at work.

As waves begin to crash over me, Rocco never relents. Instead, he rides out every tremor that ripples through me until I'm left breathless, spent, and utterly in love with him.

I slowly open my eyes, savoring the lingering sensations of pleasure that still course through my body. Rocco's intense gaze meets mine, filled with a mix of understanding and desire that sets my heart racing. His own needs are now visibly urgent, and I am eager to return the intoxicating pleasure he has given me. With a gentle yet commanding touch, I guide him down onto the soft sheets of the bed, ready to explore every inch of his hard body.

Rocco stretches out beneath mine, muscles relaxed yet expectant under my fingertips as I trace paths across his chest and down his rippled abdomen. When I kiss the head of his erect cock, I hear his intake of breath held tightly in his throat. His reaction spurs my confidence as I carefully take him into my mouth, lavishing attention on every perfect inch.

Rocco's fist clenches tightly in the rumpled sheets while his other hand tenderly strokes my hair, a silent plea for me to continue. His body speaks volumes, communicating desires that he doesn’t vocalize.

I hollow my cheeks, swirling my tongue expertly over his thick shaft, indulging in his musky aroma and the tantalizing flavor of his arousal. Every powerful thrust causes him to swell, becoming even thicker and harder in my mouth, making my task all the more exhilarating. I know that he is on the brink of releasing his climax into my waiting mouth, and the thought alone sends shivers down my spine.

Rocco’s breath hitches, a symphony of soft groans and stifled moans filling the silent room. He tugs slightly at my hair, an anchor in the ocean of our mutual desires. Encouraged, I deepen the rhythm, sensing the tremors coursing through his body—a precursor to his imminent release. His hips buck gently into my mouth, matching the tempo I’ve set.

"Ah, Sofia…" Rocco gasps.

I ease up momentarily, trailing kisses along his inner thighs, savoring the salty taste of his skin before returning with fervor to the task. I glance up, catching Rocco's eyes clouded with a cocktail of pleasure and adoration. It spurs me on, driving every motion with more purpose.

Finally, he stiffens, a deep groan tearing from his chest as he reaches his climax. His essence floods my mouth—hot and pulsating. Slowly, I ease back, making sure to clean him meticulously with gentle laps of my tongue. His hands stroke my hair soothingly as he catches his breath.

“I love you, Sofia—my beautiful doll. Every minute we share makes me love you more than the hour before. After this war ends and the dust settles, I will make you my wife,” Rocco whispers between kisses, and my heart races with joy.

“Are you asking me, Don Leone?”

Rocco’s full lips curve into a wicked smile, and he shakes his head once. “No, I’m not asking. I’m telling you outright, without reservations, that you will marry me and make me an honest man.”

I chuckle softly, struggling to disguise the tears welling in my eyes. “A hundred rings couldn’t make you an honest man, but I promise I’ll spend the rest of my days trying.”