Fragile Longing

by Reilly, Cora

  My body thrummed under his attention. Pretending I didn’t notice, I stepped into the fresh panties and shimmied them up my legs.

  When I returned to Danilo’s side, his arm snaked around my waist. I didn’t pull back.

  “Sofia,” he said, shaking his head again.

  “We should head out, right?”

  I slid out of his hold and walked away. Soon his steps caught up with me. I could feel his eyes practically burning into me.

  The wedding was spectacular, and so were the festivities, which were, of course, held in the best hotel in Minneapolis. Danilo’s tension returned when we were seated in the church but slowly abated throughout the evening, though he was still far from relaxed.

  The first time he didn’t follow his sister’s every move with his vigilant eyes was when we danced. He held me close, his palm hot against my lower back. With us being so close, I couldn’t stop remembering our kiss—my first real kiss—and man, what a kiss. Even in my fantasies, it hadn’t been that good, which made me wonder how the rest of our physical encounters would be. The party debacle obviously wasn’t the scale to judge our sex life by.

  I caught Anna’s eyes briefly from across the room. We hadn’t had time for a private chat yet. We’d talked on the phone practically every day since my wedding, but talking in person was different.

  “Anna beats my protective streak by far,” Danilo murmured.

  I laughed, meeting his gaze. “We’ve been friends all our lives. She just wants to make sure I’m all right.”

  “And are you? After the kiss?”

  Biting my lip, I whispered, “I am.” The kiss had awakened my senses and my hopes. If Danilo could kiss me like that, then surely he had to desire me.

  “Good, because I can’t think about anything else than the taste of your lips, Sofia. I can’t wait to kiss you again.”

  I squeezed his shoulder, pressing a bit closer. “What are you waiting for?” Surprised by my own courage, I laughed.

  “If I kissed you the way I want to kiss you right here on the dancefloor that’ll cause the scandal of the year,” Danilo said dryly.

  My gaze drifted over the other guests, engaged in polite conversation and dutiful dances. They’d be shocked, but maybe not. After all, the Mione sisters were prone for scandal. I shoved Serafina out of my head like I had done every day over the last two weeks. For me to feel comfortable with Danilo and really give us a chance, I couldn’t have let thoughts of Fina mess with me, which was also why I hadn’t taken her calls. “We shouldn’t ruin your sister’s wedding like that.”

  Danilo searched my face, as if he had picked up on my brief meander down memory lane.

  “You should probably dance with her,” I added. Danilo nodded and reluctantly handed me over to Dad.

  After a few more dances, I excused myself from the dance floor, my feet aching in my high heels. I searched the room for Anna, but she was dancing with Samuel. Desperate to get out of my heels, I slipped out of the banquet room. I could hardly take my shoes off around people. It would go against etiquette.

  I found a comfortable bench in a side corridor and sank down on it. I released a sigh when I slid my heels off. My feet were red, and blisters were forming at my toes. I shouldn’t have worn new shoes for a night of standing and dancing.

  Footsteps alerted me that someone was coming, and I looked up to see Danilo rounding the corner, a look of concern on his face. He relaxed visibly when he spotted me.

  “Worried I’d run off?” I said with a small smile.

  He sat down beside me and surprised me by taking my foot and massaging it. I leaned back and moaned under my breath. “Sorry, this just feels too good.”

  Danilo shook his head and bestowed the same treatment on my other foot. The look he gave me was intense, and soon the simple massage felt like more than a way to ease my pain.

  It was silent in this part of the hotel. The banquet room was a good distance away and the restrooms were in the other direction. Danilo set down my foot and cupped my face. I scooted over to him, and our mouths crashed together.

  I lost myself in the kiss, in Danilo’s warmth and taste. He hoisted me onto his lap, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, sinking even deeper into the kiss. His erection dug into my ass, stirring up my own need. So much for changing panties.

  “Shit,” someone muttered.

  Danilo and I jerked apart. Anna stood a few steps from us. She sent me a look that made it clear she wanted details, then slowly backed away with a fake sheepish expression. Before she turned the corner, she winked at me.

  Danilo made a low sound in his throat. “She’s getting annoying.”

  “You can’t blame her. You haven’t given her much reason to like you.”

  “I’m trying to make up for my past transgressions,” Danilo said as he kissed my throat.

  I closed my eyes, letting his mouth work its magic. “We should return to the party before people get suspicious.”

  “Let them get suspicious. We’re married. We can do whatever we please. What we do in private is our business.”

  Goosebumps rose on my skin as I considered the options.

  I scooted off his lap before I could lose myself completely, but Danilo caught my wrist and pulled me down so he could murmur in my ear. “How are those panties? Soaking wet?”

  My eyes widened, surprised by his directness. I wanted to be just as bold. Looking around, I reached under my dress and dragged down my panties. With a coy smile, I stuffed them into his pocket. He froze, and I worried I’d crossed a line, or done something disgusting, then he jerked me against him and kissed me hard. I gasped and pulled away.

  “We should get back.”

  Danilo shoved his hand into the pocket with my panties and groaned. “Sofia, fuck, what are you doing to me?”

  I stepped back. The air against my pussy felt strange. The thought of spending the night bare almost made me regret my little stunt, until I saw Danilo looking at me as if he wanted to devour me.

  On our way back to the banquet room, Anna intercepted me. Danilo went ahead as Anna and I made our way to the restroom. The moment we were alone, I blurted, “I’m not wearing panties.” I wasn’t sure what made me say it—perhaps it was the effect of the nervous energy buzzing under my skin since I’d lost the barrier between my throbbing flesh and the air.

  Anna’s brown eyebrows shot up. “Good for you!”

  I covered my eyes and giggled. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “All because of a kiss? Or did you two have a quickie in a dark corner before I caught you?” She pulled my hand down, forcing me to meet her curious gaze.

  “That was only our second kiss. We haven’t really done more . . . unless you count the party.”

  “It doesn’t count,” Anna muttered. “But you two looked awfully cozy, not at all like people who wanted to stop at kissing.”

  “I didn’t. I don’t.” I sighed. “I don’t want to rush into things after everything.”

  “Then don’t. Or try to separate lust from love. You could start by having great sex with Danilo and then slowly work your way up to an emotional connection.”

  “I doubt that’s going to work. I can’t separate sex from emotions.”

  “If you say so, but from what I saw I can tell that you won’t be able to resist much longer. Walking around without panties doesn’t really scream abstinence, you know?”

  I gave her an indignant look, which turned her grin dirtier. “Come on, Sofia. I’m right, don’t deny it.”

  “I wanted to tease Danilo, to make the wait harder for him.”

  “Looks like you made him hard.” She winked. “And made it harder for yourself as well.”

  “Your wordplays are worse than Leonas’s.”

  She bumped her shoulder against mine. “Let’s get you back to your husband. I’m sure he’s been guarding your panties with his life.”

  “Anna, don’t say anything to anyone.”

  She rolled her eyes. “D
on’t worry, your good-girl reputation is safe with me. I have practice keeping a white vest. Life’s all about enjoying the little freedoms.”

  I huffed as she dragged me back to the party.

  Danilo was talking to my dad and Samuel. He looked my way when we entered. Heat washed down my body, amplified by knowing my panties were in his pocket.

  “I give it two weeks tops before you rip his clothes off.”

  Anna came dangerously close to being right. Danilo and I kissed often, and it got more difficult to pull back. He never tried to further things, and I figured he was waiting for a sign from me.

  Danilo and I fell into a tentative routine. Every morning, we had breakfast together, which Danilo made, of course. Afterward, he left for work meetings, and I took care of my social responsibilities, worked out, met with the chef who was teaching me to cook—I had a talent for desserts, especially patisserie—and worked on my college applications. When Danilo got home late afternoon, we fed the koi together and usually ended up kissing. We then had dinner, which I sometimes cooked, and then settled on the couch to talk or watch movies. Danilo liked the old classics, especially European productions, which was a new experience for me.

  The atmosphere always became tense when we get to bed, mostly because I became tense. That was probably why we never kissed in bed.

  Two weeks after Samuel’s and Emma’s wedding, I decided to throw caution to the wind. When Danilo settled beside me under the covers, I scooted over to him and kissed him.

  He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me and pull me against me, deepening the kiss. Our legs became entangled, and Danilo’s hands roamed my back, sliding under my chemise to my naked skin. As always when we kissed, I was soaked. I stroked Danilo’s strong back, following his flexing muscles.

  One of Danilo’s hands slid into my panties, squeezing my ass. My body clamped up, uninvited images of the night of the party flooding my head. I tried to push those memories away, forcing myself to focus on the kiss but soon my arousal waned.

  Danilo continued to stroke my ass but pulled back, searching my face. “Too much?”

  “I don’t know.” I was confused. I wanted more, but my mind had shut my body down.

  Danilo pulled his hand out of my panties and cupped the back of my head, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Is this still because of what happened at the party?”

  I nodded.

  “This time won’t be like that. I’ll take my time, prepare you, pay attention to what you like—”

  I leaned in and kissed him again. Running my hands down his chest, I rocked myself against Danilo’s thigh, desperately trying to win over my mind, but by now I wasn’t wet at all. Danilo ran his palm over my outer thigh, then to the sensitive area on the inside. As his fingers came closer to my center, I tensed up. He began to draw back but I put my hand on his, stopping him. “Don’t stop.”

  He slid his fingers further up, brushing my outer folds. My body felt ready to splinter with tension and not in a good way. Danilo shook his head and stopped kissing me. “This isn’t working.”

  I groaned. “I know.” I flopped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to determine why exactly I clamped up. Part of it was me being terrified of the pain, but I doubted it would be like that again. The other part? My brain replaying those blonde chicks Danilo had been with in the past. “Do you prefer blondes?”

  “What?” Danilo muttered, bracing himself on his elbow and leaning over me.

  I shrugged. “All your dates were blonde, and at the party you chose me because of my wig.”

  “Is this because of that?”

  “Maybe. I really don’t know.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I never had a thing for blondes. Not even years ago.”

  I assumed he was referring to when he had been engaged to Fina.

  “I dated girls with brown hair, black hair, blonde hair.”

  “Not afterwards,” I said, also avoiding Fina’s name.

  Danilo touched my hip, his thumb sliding beneath my chemise to stroke my skin. “I didn’t do those women because I felt more attracted to blondes. I did them because of my anger issues.” He reached for my hair and ran his fingers through my curls. “I love the color of your hair, like chestnuts.”

  “Okay,” I murmured, even if anger issues seemed a strange explanation for banging blondes, but everyone handled trauma in different ways. I rolled over, curling into him. “I want to keep trying. Eventually, my body will give in.”

  Danilo smiled wryly. “I’ll give it as many tries as you want. But maybe we should continue in the morning.” He wrapped his arms around me, and I settled against his chest.

  I felt more comfortable with Danilo every day. I still didn’t understand him, but maybe that was normal. Men, especially the men in our world, were a strange species.

  I woke up in Danilo’s arms and turned to kiss him. Our bodies were still relaxed from sleep but quickly heated up. But like before, my mind messed things up.

  Danilo gave me time to compose myself and went downstairs to prepare breakfast.

  Staring at the ceiling, I slipped a hand between my legs. I was dry as the Sahara. It was strange how quickly my body turned from full-blown arousal to a desert-state once it clamped up. I hadn’t stroked myself since the party. For some reason, the events had dulled my libido. My fingers worked my clit the way I usually liked it, but my body barely reacted. Frustrated, I rubbed harder.

  Danilo cleared his throat.

  I jerked my hand away and closed my eyes with a groan. The bed dipped and I opened my eyes as he set a tray down. “I was just trying to see if my body still worked.”

  Danilo leaned down and kissed me slowly. “You looked as if you were in pain. That didn’t look pleasurable.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “How about we have breakfast and then we’ll tackle the issue again?”

  “Tackle the issue?” I repeated, my brows climbing my forehead. I put a strawberry into my mouth. “That doesn’t sound pleasurable, either.”

  We’d finished our waffles and were talking about my plans to start college in spring when Danilo asked, “Will you ever let me read something of yours?”

  My cheeks blasted with heat. So far, all my stories had been sappy and sexy love stories.

  Danilo raised his eyebrows. “That bad?”

  “Just really embarrassing.”

  “Worse than how I embarrassed myself by not recognizing my own fiancée only because she wore a wig?”

  I snorted. “Maybe.”

  Danilo’s phone beeped. He groaned. “I have to call Marco.”

  “I’ll grab a shower.” I climbed out of bed, grateful for the reprieve from talking about my writing.

  After showering, I cinched my bathrobe around my waist and went back into the bedroom. Danilo was still on the phone, lounging against the headboard, his muscular chest on display.

  Seeing my appreciative look, Danilo smirked as he muttered, “What’s so difficult about racing a car?”

  I strolled over to the bed and sat down beside Danilo. The bathrobe fell open, revealing my thighs and a hint of my pussy. Danilo’s eyes darted to the slit, lingering on the apex of my thighs. Leaning back, I picked up a strawberry off the tray and pushed it into my mouth.

  Danilo ended the call without a word and narrowed his eyes at me. “Seeing you eat strawberries with your pussy on display like that, I can’t stop wondering what you’d taste like.”

  I almost choked on the piece of fruit but quickly masked my shock. “Probably not like strawberry,” I said nonchalantly even though my cheeks flamed.

  He held out another strawberry. “I bet you do.”

  I took the piece of fruit and brought it to my lips, but Danilo shook his head. I frowned in confusion. He nodded toward my most private area.

  My eyes widened, but then I said screw it. Cheeks burning, I brought the strawberry to my folds and dipped it between them. Danilo’s eyes followed the mo
vement, his lips parted. Maybe he’d thought I wouldn’t do it.

  I pulled the fruit back out, and Danilo gripped my wrist, guiding my hand to his mouth. He cupped the strawberry with his lips, humming.

  Arousal pooled between my legs as I watched him eat the fruit.

  “As delicious as I thought.”

  I caught his lips in a kiss, but only tasted strawberry, not a hint of myself. Danilo pulled me half on top of him. Our kissing soon became heated and he hand cupped my ass, squeezing, fingertips brushing my folds lightly.

  My body clamped up, despite the desire flaming up my veins. Danilo pulled away from the kiss when it became clear that I wouldn’t relax. I let my head droop forward until my forehead rested on his warm chest. I hated my body for doing this to me.

  It had taken all of my self-control not to take things further, but Sofia’s body had still been tense when I’d stroked her lower back. Her mind was still clinging to the painful past. If I’d pushed her and done what I wanted, fingered her until she came all over my hand, she might have been too tense to enjoy it as she should. I didn’t want to add another bad experience to her memory. If I wanted a fulfilling sex-life, I needed to ensure Sofia only had positive encounters from now on, even if it killed my dick.

  “That level of intimacy—” She shook her head. “I can’t . . . not yet. My mind always goes back to that night and then my body clamps up. It’s frustrating.”

  I nodded. I’d suspected that. I had to pay the price for my fuck up.

  “Why don’t you try touching yourself while I’m in the room?”

  She raised her head from my chest, looking resigned. “I don’t even enjoy it very much when I touch myself, not since that night. You said it yourself, it didn’t look pleasurable. I just can’t relax. And if you watched, I’d be too embarrassed to touch myself. It would feel weird.”

  I stroked her throat, my fingers playing over her collarbone. I wanted things to progress. Being patient was hard work. Fuck, I wanted to be with Sofia.

  Perhaps . . . “I might have an idea how to get you to enjoy yourself in my presence without me having to touch you until you’re more comfortable.”