Page 30 of Forsaken Promises
13
SOFIA
My mind is reeling with a whirlwind of emotions as we ride back to the house. The date with Dom, the picnic in the woods, the way we had sex in the woods on the blanket… it all felt so familiar, so reminiscent of what we once had.
But at the same time, there was something different about it. Something deeper, more intense, more meaningful than the teenager passion that consumed us all those years ago.
It’s a realization that both thrills and terrifies me, the idea that my feelings for Dom may be more than just physical attraction or nostalgic longing. That there may be something real and lasting between us, something that could grow into the kind of love I’ve always dreamed of.
As we dismount our horses and head inside to get cleaned up for dinner, I can feel myself starting to withdraw, to pull back into the safety of my own emotions. It’s a habit I’ve developed over the years, a defense mechanism against the pain and heartbreak that I’ve experienced at Dom’s hands.
But then I remember the promise I made to myself, the vow to give this marriage a real chance. To open myself up to the possibility of a future with Dom, despite the risks and the fears that come with it.
I can’t keep pushing him away, can’t keep holding onto the hurt and the anger that have defined our relationship for so long. If I want this to work, if I want to build a life with the man I’ve always loved… I have to be willing to let him in.
With a deep breath, I force myself to relax, to let go of the tension that’s been coiling in my muscles since we left the woods. I offer Dom a small smile as we part ways to our separate rooms, my heart fluttering at the warmth and tenderness in his gaze.
As I step into the shower, the hot water cascading over my skin, I can’t help but let my mind wander to the memory of Dom’s touch. The way his hands felt on my body, the heat of his mouth against my skin, the overwhelming pleasure when he thrust into me… .
I feel a flush of desire spreading through me, a tingling warmth that settles low in my belly. Almost without thinking, I let my own hands drift over my curves, tracing the same paths that Dom’s fingers followed just a short while ago.
I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the fantasy of his touch. I imagine him here with me, his strong arms wrapping around me from behind, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot behind my ear, his hardened cock pressed against my ass.
I let out a soft moan as I tease my own nipples, feeling them harden and peak under my touch. I trail my fingers down my stomach, over the smooth expanse of skin until I reach the apex of my thighs.
I'm already wet, already aching for the kind of release that only Dom has ever been able to give me. I part my folds with trembling fingers, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body.
I stroke and circle, my hips rocking against my hand as I chase the building pressure inside me. I imagine Dom's fingers in place of my own, his touch firm and knowing as he drives me closer and closer to the edge.
“Dom,” I breathe, my voice echoing off the tile walls. “Oh, God, Dom…”
I can almost hear his voice in my ear, low and rough with desire, can almost feel the heat of his body against my back, the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against my skin.
It’s too much, too intense, too overwhelming in the best possible way. With a final flick of my fingers, I come undone, my body shaking and shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.
I lean against the wall of the shower, my chest heaving and my legs trembling as I try to catch my breath. I feel a flicker of guilt, a sense of shame at the way I’ve let myself indulge in such wanton fantasies.
But beneath that, there’s a deeper feeling, a sense of rightness and inevitability that I can’t quite shake. Because as much as I may try to deny it, as much as I may want to protect myself from the risk of heartbreak…
I know that Dom is the only man who can make me feel this way, the only one who can stir my body and my soul with such intensity, the only one who can make me come undone when he’s not even with me.
* * *
As I makemy way down to the dining room on Dom’s arm, I can feel the weight of expectation settling heavily on my shoulders. This is my first dinner as a Sicura, my first real test as Dom’s wife and the newest member of his family.
I know that all eyes will be on me tonight, that every move I make and every word I say will be carefully scrutinized and evaluated. The Sicuras are not a family to be trifled with, and I’m all too aware of the importance of making a good impression.
But I refuse to let my nerves get the best of me. I've been raised in this world, trained from birth to navigate the complex social and political landscape of the elite. I know how to hold my head high, how to smile and charm and deflect with the best of them.
As we enter the dining room, I take a moment to take in my surroundings. The room is grand and elegantly appointed, with a long mahogany table set with fine China and crystal glassware. The walls are adorned with priceless works of art, and the air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the murmur of polite conversation.
At the head of the table sits Dom’s father looking every inch the powerful patriarch in his tailored suit and stern expression. To his right is Dom’s mother, Isabela, a stunning blonde woman with a warm smile and kind eyes.
And directly across from me, watching me with a cool, appraising gaze, is Dom's sister, Valentina.
I’ve heard much about Valentina Sicura, the fiercely intelligent and formidable woman. She’s said to be as ruthless as she is beautiful, with a mind like a steel trap and a will of iron.
Looking at her now, I can see the striking resemblance between her and Dom. They have the same dark hair and piercing eyes, the same proud bearing and regal air. But where Dom’s gaze is warm and tender when he looks at me, Valentina’s is guarded and calculating.
