Desired and Dominated (15 page)

“Don’t, Nate. It hurts.” I loosen my grip. “I don’t mean you holding me. I mean…this. You’re a breath away from kissing me. I know you want to, but you won’t. I want you more than anything, and it…hurts. You want me, but not enough. You don’t need me. I never thought that you were capable of hurting me, but I’m wrecked…because of you.”

I drop my head, horrified that she believes I don’t want her as much as she wants me. I
know
that I will always want her more than she could ever comprehend.

“I…”

“Don’t. Just let me go.”

I take a deep breath.

“I can’t. I know it’s selfish, but I need you to stay with me just now. I need to explain. Will you let me do that?” My voice is barely a whisper, unrecognizable to me in the darkness.

“Yes.” It’s one small word, with such great depth behind it. A lifeline. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight, just for a moment, before leading her back to our seats. All eyes are on us, but I couldn’t give a fuck what any of these first class morons think of me. The only person whose opinion matters to me, is Sofia’s.

I can’t take my eyes off of her as she sits, elegant and dignified as she gives me yet another chance I don’t deserve. I’m a dick. I can’t even tell her the whole truth, and yet I still couldn’t let her go.

“You need to understand. It’s not that I didn’t
want
to be with you. I wanted you so badly, every step away from you in Verona was a physical ache, and every step you took as you left my apartment in New York was sheer and utter hell. I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you. I thought that time and space between us would help, but it never has. My feelings for you have never diminished. It has been the polar opposite; every moment I spent with you only intensified what I felt, and now that I haven’t been a part of your life for the past year, those feelings have magnified tenfold. I’ll never get over you.”

Her eyes fly up to meet mine. “Then why, Nate? You know how I feel about you. I lo….”

I push my finger to her lips. “Don’t. Please don’t say it. I can’t…we can’t. You’re too good for me. You always have been. I will never be worthy of you, and if I hear you say the words, I don’t know if I could survive it. I’m trying not to be selfish with you; to be a better man, so that maybe
one
day, I might be even halfway worthy of you.”

She cups my face in her hands; my heart fighting to burst through my ribcage as she forces me to look at her. “But I want…I need…I.” She searches my face for permission that I can’t give.

I place my hands over hers. “Don’t make me hate myself more than I already do.” I pull her hands from their sweet caress of my tense jaw, and watch her as she crumples into her seat, trying to calm herself, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall.

An unwelcome interruption comes in the form of the stewardess hovering by my side.

“Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Callaghan?”

“Yes. A Scotch neat.” She turns to leave and it exasperates me even further. “Miss Mantovani would like a glass of Prosecco. Thank you for asking. Your customer service skills are somewhat lacking.” She shoots me daggers before scurrying off to get our drinks. Why would she think it’s okay not to offer Sofia a drink? It’s her fucking job. Just because she thought she was going to get the pleasure of sucking my cock on this flight, doesn’t mean she gets to treat my impromptu travelling companion with disdain. I could see it in her eyes the moment I set foot inside the cabin. She devoured every inch of me with her greedy little eyes; licking her lips suggestively as her eyes came to rest on my crotch. Truth be told, after the run in with my mother, I might have given her a second glance if Sofia hadn’t shown up, if for no other reason than to take my mind off of my pathetic life.

The reality of my situation is that Sofia
is
here, and no other woman on earth even registers on my radar. There is only her. She is my Eve; the first and only woman in my world. I try so hard to forget her, but it’s impossible. She has infiltrated every fiber of my being, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone treat her badly. It’s hard enough to watch her hurting because of my actions.

She lets out a small sob, and without a thought for the consequences I lift her up out of her seat, and into my lap, where she breaks down, quietly letting out all of the hurt and confusion that
I
caused. She feels so small and fragile, curled up like a frightened kitten, and all I want to do…is love her.

“Please don’t cry. My heart can’t take it. I’m doing this for you. Trust me. You’re too good for me, and I only want what’s best for you.”

“You’re what’s best for me. I feel it in every touch of your hand; in the way you speak; the way you look at me. I feel it in the way my body responds to you. You are exactly what I need. Everything about you calls to me. Why can’t you see that?” Her voice is no more than a whisper.

I pull her closer, hold her tighter, trying like hell to calm the tirade of emotions raging inside of me.

When our drinks arrive, I down my Scotch and request another, but before I finish my sentence, Sofia hands her empty glass to the stewardess and moves back down to rest her head on my chest. Under normal circumstances I would chastise her for drinking so quickly, but I have no right to ask anything of her. I just thank my lucky stars that she remains in my lap, letting me soothe her. I slowly trace the lines of her back, listening to her breathing as it evens out and she drifts off. I think it’s probably a mixture of emotional exhaustion and alcohol rather than her being physically tired. Whatever the reason, I revel in it.

I sit for hours, a continuous stream of Scotch being brought to me as I sit clinging to Sofia; listening to her shallow breaths; loving the warmth of her body against my own. I’ve been rock hard in my pants for the past three hours while she’s slept soundly, but I don’t care. The physical discomfort is nothing in comparison to the elation that her presence sparks in me. For the first time in a year, I
feel
.

I can’t resist her, and gently slip my hand underneath her sweater, my palm pressed against the naked flesh of her back, causing a shiver to run down my spine as I feel hers flex beneath my fingers. She lifts her sleepy eyes to mine, her lips, full and pink and sleep swollen. She is breath-taking. I can only imagine what she looks like first thing in the morning; sex mussed hair, naked, and tangled in the sheets. My dick twitches beneath her and I know she feels it. Her gaze darts between my eyes and my lips as she licks her own, making them even more enticing. Just one kiss, one lick, one nibble of her perfect pout. I want it so badly, I would sell my soul for one more taste, but I’ve already caused her so much pain through my own selfish desires. She is a shell of the woman who offered herself to me in Verona, who fought for me in her brother’s living room. A shadow of the woman that walked out of my apartment a year ago.

Her scent surrounds me, her breath warm and sweet on my face as she moves closer, our lips just millimeters apart when I speak. “I want to kiss you so badly, Sofia. Every inch of my body is screaming at me to do it.”

Her words are a sweet caress. “Then do it.”

I cup her face in my hands. “I can’t.” I rest my forehead against hers in defeat. “I just can’t. Ending things with you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Knowing that I was doing the right thing for you, but the worst thing imaginable for me. I couldn’t do it again.”

“Then don’t. Be with me.” My body sags under the intense pressure I feel in this moment; to do the right thing by her. I know she feels it, because she pulls away from me, extricating herself from my lap and moving back into her seat.

“Maybe I should go and find my seat back in coach.”

I grasp her hand firmly in mine. “Don’t. I want you here. I don’t know when I’ll see you again. Stay. Tell me about your life, work, anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

She gives me a small, but genuine smile. “Okay.”

We spend the rest of the flight talking about our lives, and it feels so normal. The tension between us is still thick in the air, but I’d tolerate any level of discomfort just to be around her, to hear her sultry voice caress my senses. I’m transfixed, enthralled, obsessed with every detail that she offers me.

I in turn tell her about the band that I’m working with, what it means for my company, what I aspire to in the future. It’s uncharacteristic for me to open up, but with her it just feels natural, and I find myself telling her about my run in with my mom in the airport.

“God, Nate. No wonder you were on edge when I first saw you. I don’t know the ins and outs of it, but Simon told me that your relationship with her is tumultuous at best. I figured it made sense, considering that you’ve spent almost every family holiday at our house since I met you.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, which I would curse from anyone else, but from her it’s a comfort I’ve never felt before.

“Your powers of deduction are spot on Sherlock. I won’t bore you with the details, but a summation of my relationship with my mother would be that she blames me for loving her too much. All I ever tried to do was protect her, from herself, from her decisions. She blames me for her life not turning out the way she wanted, and she never lets me forget it. These days, we tolerate each other when we have to, which isn’t very often.”

“I’m so sorry. That must be hard. I know that you would only ever have been looking out for her. It’s who you are. What about your dad?”

“The less said about that deadbeat, the better.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“We’re done talking about him. I mean it. I’m not going to waste any more time and energy on him in this lifetime.” She slinks into my side, resting her head on my shoulder, giving me solace in the silence between us. We stay like this for the remainder of the flight; Sofia drifting in and out of sleep as our time together fades away; our approach to Heathrow Airport getting closer with every minute.

As we touch down in London and disembark, I feel my chest tighten. My time with her has been so fleeting. I don’t want to leave her.

We work our way through security and towards the departure gates, relishing each moment we have together; our imminent departure to connecting flights hanging heavy in the air between us. I guide her towards the international departure gates, my hand on the base of her back; my skin burning from the contact. I can’t even wait with her. I need to go to the domestic flights departure lounge. I should have been there ten minutes ago, but I just can’t tear myself away from her.

When I can’t go any further I stop dead, unable to let go of her hand. We haven’t spoken since we stepped off the plane, but it doesn’t seem necessary. The draw I feel in her proximity is crackling between us; a physical force that we can’t ignore. Electricity courses through every cell in my body as she turns to face me.

“I guess this is where we say goodbye then. Prague awaits.” I have no words. I just stand and stare at her, entranced by her effortless beauty. “When will you be back in New York?” She snaps me out of my reverie.

“A week. I’m only in Edinburgh for a week. You? How long is this tour?” I don’t know why I’m desperate to hear her answer. I know I need to stay away from her, but I also need to know that she’s close by. To know where she is in the world.

“Three weeks. I’ll be back in New York for a week before I set off again. Doing a stint around the States, so at least I won’t be halfway across the planet. Maybe we could meet up when I’m back in town?” She looks at me expectantly.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

She steps closer, her breasts brushing against me as she drops my hand and snakes her arms around my neck. This is the Sofia from Verona, the girl I fell even more deeply in love with. Her quiet confidence has returned. She stands on her tiptoes, her lips almost touching mine, tormenting me as her breath caresses me. “Tell me it’s not a good idea. Tell me you don’t feel this; that you don’t feel how explosive it is between us when we’re together. Tell me you don’t want me; that you don’t feel anything more than friendship for me and I’ll never bring it up again. But don’t lie to me, Nate. I can feel your heartbeat against my breasts. It’s racing, just like mine. I can feel your dick straining against your pants, hard against my thigh…Go on…tell me you don’t want me.”

“Jesus Christ. Why do you push me?” I bite down hard on my lip, tasting blood, trying to no avail, to hold in the words I know are about to trip out of my mouth. “You already know.”

“Know what? Tell me.” I grab her face in my hands, searching it for a way out, for a reason
not
to say it, but I have to. I can’t keep it in any longer. I’ve waited nine years to say it.

“I’m in love with you, Sofia. Never doubt it.” I crash my lips down on hers, exploring, pillaging, taking, giving, wanting. She tastes even better than I remember. She gives me everything, melting into my arms, her hands fisting in my hair, pulling me closer. Her tongue strokes mine, teasing me, torturing me. It’s a sweet kind of agony.

It takes every ounce of strength I have to break this kiss, this connection between us.

“I need to go. You need to go. This has to end here, Sofia. It’s what’s best for you, and I will
always
do what is best for you.” I steal one last kiss. “I love you. You are my Nyx. No one will ever compare to you.”