Trying Sophie: A Dublin Rugby Romance

by Norinne, Rebecca

  Looking up from between her thighs, the firelight dancing over her flushed skin, her eyes were closed and a satisfied smirk tugged at her lips. One hand was fisted in her hair while the other rested over her heart, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

  “Holy fuck,” she whispered on a laugh. “You’re a god.”

  And I wasn’t done.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I said, flipping her onto her stomach.

  Flicking the button on my jeans, I unleashed my stiff, aching cock. Angling it against her wet opening, I slid home—hard and deep. Sophie gasped and I gave her a moment to acclimate to my size before I started pounding into her. She raised onto all fours and pushed back against me, took me in and then forced me out. Rocked into me and rolled away as my balls smacked against her.

  “Fuck yeah,” I bit out between grunts of pleasure. “Just like that, Soph. Just like that.”

  She sucked in a gulp of air and let it out in a keening cry as she reached between us and rubbed her clit as I hammered into her. “Fuuuuuuuuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Harder Declan. Fuck me harder!”

  I gathered her long, blonde hair in my hand and wrapped it around my fist. Yanking her head back, I folded my body over hers and quickened my pace.

  “Please, please, please,” she begged, her arms shaking with the strain of holding us both up.

  Before she collapsed, I wrapped my forearm across her middle and hauled her onto her knees, my front to her back. My cock pounding into her, I found her clit and rubbed my thumb over it, driving her toward another orgasm. With my other hand, I pinched her nipple and tugged while her greedy pussy clenched around my cock.

  Fuck, I was going to come.

  My mind shut off and my body’s instincts took over as pressure built in my balls and then erupted along my spine and down my legs. When I came, a switch flipped in my brain and I was struck with a moment of blinding clarity. Sophie was it for me. I bit the side of my cheek to hold in the confession as I emptied my whole being into her on a groan.

  Curled against my side, with my hand resting on her hip and her head laying against my shoulder, Sophie absentmindedly traced her fingers up and down my abs as we lay in front of the fire. It tickled like a bitch, but I didn’t want her to stop.

  “What’s your favorite memory?” she asked, continuing our game of Twenty Questions.

  I was pretty sure we were on number ninety by this point.

  I didn’t need to consider my answer. “Seeing you at the airport.”

  She laughed. “Be serious.”

  I sketched my fingers along her naked skin, spelling out my name with the pads of my fingers. Dropping a kiss to her forehead, I confided, “I am. You took my breath away. I’ll never forget it.”

  Sophie rolled onto her stomach and propped her jaw in the palm of her hands, framing her cheeks with her long, delicate fingers. Peering down at me, she said, “You didn’t say anything.”

  I chuckled. “No, I didn’t.” Then, “What’s your favorite memory?”

  She thought it over for a few seconds and her eyes flashed with delight. “The first time I boarded a plane, the stewardess took me into the cockpit and the pilot gave me a captain’s hat. I wore it every day for months.”

  I hoped she didn’t see the hurt I couldn’t seem to push away. Every time I opened up to her, she came back with a gentle reminder that said she didn’t feel about me the way I felt about her.

  After a few seconds, she dropped forward to kiss me slowly, sweetly. Pulling back, she whispered, “Tonight ranks pretty high up there too.”

  Even if I thought she only said it because I hadn’t done a good job of hiding my reaction, the words still achieved their purpose.

  Sliding my hand along her hip to rest on the small of her back, I asked, “Oh yeah?”

  “Mmm,” she hummed against my lips. “Definitely top three.”

  “What’s the other?”

  “Our first time,” she answered after a beat. Her eyes flicking between mine, she took a breath as if to say more, then halted, blinked, and looked away.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she demurred, dropping down onto her side and nuzzling against me.

  When she kissed my chest, my muscles clenched in anticipation, but I didn’t want to get distracted. I got the sense she’d been about to reveal something important. Suddenly, whatever it might have been, became the most important words in the world to me.

  I twisted onto my side and propped my head on my palm. “Nothing?” I asked, looking down at her.

  Her eyes dropped to the carpet and she plucked at the fibers. “I just …”

  She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. Opening them a few beats later she stared up at the ceiling when she said, “I’d never felt that way before.”

  “What way?”

  She rolled her head to the side and our eyes locked. “Complete.”

  The breath rushed from my lungs, her words barreling into me and forcing their way through my ribs, straight to my heart.

  “Complete how?”

  “Just … it felt right. Good.” She rotated onto her side and pressed her palm to my chest, close to my heart. “Like you and I …”

  Part of me wanted desperately for her to say it felt like we belonged together, but I dreaded it too. Because if she did feel that way, it would be so much harder when she left. And her leaving was the only thing about us that was set in stone.

  Before she could say more, I rolled on top of her and tugged her hands above her head as I settled in the vee of her thighs. Holding her wrists in my grip, I nipped at her lips, her neck, her ears.

  “Like we fit?” I asked suggestively, nudging my thickening cock against her center.

  I’d taken her twice now, hard and rough, and I’d loved it both times, but I needed something different now, something … more.

  Loosening my grip, I intertwined our fingers and kissed her softly, reverently.

  This time when we made love, it wasn’t with the fierce and relentless need that had gripped us before. As I sank into her, I kept my eyes locked on hers while she panted beneath me and whispered my name, a benediction on her lips. She arched her neck I kissed and licked my way down her until I reached the straining peaks of her nipples. I worshipped them with my mouth, made love to every single inch of her. When she came apart with an exultant moan, her nails dug into my skin, anchored her to me. On a final thrust, I flooded her with my seed and moaned her name.

  Sophie’s eyes went wide, then glassy … and then and she looked away, breaking the spell that had wound its way around us in the dancing fire light. It was a good thing too because when I poured myself inside of her, I almost whispered, “I love you.”

  Fuck. What had I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Declan

  After that night, our conversations became more intimate and we shared things I was sure no one else knew. I felt closer to Sophie than anyone in my life, and that included my teammates or my family. I knew I was heading for a wreck of epic proportions but I didn’t see an alternative. I couldn’t force myself off this runaway train.

  “What’s your worst memory?” she asked, her question picking up on the conversation from a few nights ago.

  “Hmm,” I stalled for time.

  There was one night in particular that stood out but I didn’t think I should share it with her. As close as we’d become, there were some things the woman in your life didn’t want to know. And yet, she’d told me about that fuck face Stephen and what he’d done to her. Maybe I owed it to her to fill her in on what had happened with Natasha?

  “There was this woman,” I started.

  “There always is,” she murmured with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, there is,” I agreed because it was true. Every time one of my friends got all messed up, there was a woman to blame.

  “But Natasha did a number on me.”

  “Natasha?” she asked, and I worried about what
I heard in her voice. Not jealousy or envy but something else. Something … uncertain and insecure.

  Wanting to set her mind as ease, I said, “It wasn’t like that. I was only with her one time.”

  Fuck. I hated detailing my sexual history like this. Sophie knew I’d been no saint before she came along, but it still felt sordid to talk about my past.

  She exhaled in a long, drawn-out gust. “Okay, go on.”

  I debated backing out, saying “never mind,” but now that I’d started down this path I didn’t think she’d let it go, especially now that she knew Natasha’s name.

  I took a breath of my own and forged ahead. “At first she seemed like an answer to my prayers, but things got all twisted up and that night fucked me up good.”

  “What happened?”

  “The first time we met was at a special event for Irish athletes. I don’t know what she was doing there because she wasn’t one, but she stood out that night. She was understated, elegant. Something different from what I was used to.”

  An image of Natasha the night we met flashed through my head and I pushed it aside. If only I’d been more observant, I might not have gone home with her.

  “I flirted with her, and she flirted back. At one point, she dropped her underwear in my lap when she walked past my table.” I shook my head and shrugged apologetically. “What can I say? Her boldness turned me on.”

  “I can imagine. You seem to have a thing for brazen women,” she chuckled and it felt forced, but I appreciated her effort.

  “Before the night was over she sat next to me, whispering all the things she wanted me to do to her. Before she finished, she cupped my dick under the table where no one could see.”

  Sophie sucked in a quick breath. Fuck, I should stop. This wasn’t fair to her.

  “Never mind,” I hurried. “It’s nothing. Remind me again, what’s your favorite movie?”

  “I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she answered.

  “But you shouldn’t have to.”

  “I asked you what your worst memory was and I want to know because I want to know you. If this woman is a part of that, then I want to hear it. You don’t have to tell me, but I’d appreciate it if you would.”

  I’d never told anyone about Natasha but suddenly I wanted to unburden myself of those memories. And even if I was conflicted about sharing them with Sophie, I knew no one else would listen to me the way she did. No one else would care why it had been so bad but Sophie would. She’d care because she cared about me.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?” I asked, giving her one more chance to back out. “Because it’s not pretty.”

  “Life isn’t always pretty Declan.”

  I laughed cynically. “You’re telling me.”

  “Whatever it is, I promise not to judge you. But like I said, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  Coming from anyone else, her words might have sounded like a guilt trip, but I could hear the sincerity in her voice. If I told her about Natasha, she wouldn’t judge me. And if I chose not to tell her, she wouldn’t try to force me to either. She might be hurt that I’d held this part of me back, might think I didn’t trust her with something that had shaped me into the man I was today, but she wouldn’t ever say so. Which was what convinced me to tell her everything. Because I wanted her to know that I trusted her, that I wanted to share myself with her.

  “Okay,” I answered. “I’ll tell you, but on one condition.”

  She was quick to agree. “Anything.”

  “You can’t interrupt me. I’ve never told anyone about what happened that night and if I’m going to tell you, I need to get it all out at once.”

  “You have my word,” she answered. “But before you start, I just want to tell you I appreciate what you’re doing. I know how hard it can be to …” she trailed off, leaving the rest of her thought unspoken.

  But she didn’t have to say it. I knew what she meant because it had been hard for her to tell me about Stephen too.

  “I know you know, Soph. And like you trusted me with your story, your past, I trust you too.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  I took a deep breath and released it, ready to bare my shame.

  “So anyhow,” I began again. “Natasha pretty much gave me the impression she was into the same things I was. After a quick taxi back to her place, I … well … once she was naked, she became bolder, saying stuff I’d only ever fantasized about.”

  I swallowed and coughed nervously. I felt a heavy lump in my throat that threatened to suffocate me the longer I spoke.

  “I mean, these weren’t things you could try with just anyone. The person had to know what they were getting into, had to be down with a little pain.”

  I grimaced around the confession.

  Sophie knew I liked things rough, but I’d kept most of my fantasies from her because … well, because I didn’t think she’d want me if she knew what I was really like. That she’d drop me like a hot potato if she knew there was something wrong with me.

  In a flash, I pictured Sophie tied up in my bed with her eyes covered and mouth gagged, her ass cheeks red with my hand prints, and my cum cooling on her heated flesh. I blinked against the image and pushed the thoughts deep down where I hoped they’d stay hidden.

  “It’s okay Declan. Fantasies by themselves aren’t bad.”

  But they were bad because they made people do bad things, twisted girls like Natasha into something broken and perverse. And guys like me got off on that, used girls like her as our play things and then tossed them aside.

  “They can be,” I answered through gritted teeth.

  “I’m going to ask you a question and then I promise I won’t interrupt again.”

  I paused a beat before answering. “Yeah, alright.” I could only imagine what was going to come out of her mouth.

  “Do these fantasies of yours involve something morbid?”

  “No,” I answered because … just fuck no.

  “And are they morally reprehensible?”

  Her voice held a touch of anxiety, like she was worried they might. She should be anxious, because yeah. The things I wanted to do to her were morally reprehensible.

  “Yes,” I admitted on a pained whisper.

  “You don’t … you said you didn’t hurt women.”

  “I don’t,” I answered emphatically. “Not like you mean. Not like that.”

  And then because there was nothing left to do but admit my deepest, darkest desires, I spilled my guts and told her everything.

  “I would never hit a woman in anger Sophie, you have to trust me when I say that, but smacking your ass until it’s red and glowing with my handprint? Shoving my cock so far down your throat you gag on it? Tying you up and fucking you until you’re too exhausted to walk? Owning that sweet little asshole of yours? Yeah, I want that. From you.” I let out a ragged sigh. “That’s who I am. It’s all I can think about.”

  The phone line was so silent I couldn’t tell if she was still there. I looked down at my screen and saw the seconds continue ticking by.

  “Sophie?” I asked, worried I’d said too much, that I’d scared her away.

  “I’m here,” she croaked then swallowed loudly. “I’m here.”

  The phone fell silent.

  “Sophie, I didn’t mean. I’m sorry—”

  “Declan,” she interrupted, “shut up.”

  What?

  “Just … just be quiet for a second,” she added less harshly. “Please, don’t say another word.”

  And that’s when the phone went dead.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’d blown it. I’d always known I wanted too much and now it’d cost me the girl I loved.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sophie

  A couple of years ago, I had teased Katie mercilessly while she waited at the airport to board a flight from London to Stockholm for what essentially amounted to a six-hour booty call with the man she was now engaged t
o. At the time, I hadn’t understood what possessed her to do something so insensible, but as I watched the taxi fare climb higher and higher while I made my way to Declan’s neighborhood, I finally got it.

  I was officially what my friend Lika called “dickmatized.” How did you know when you’d been dickmatized? It was really quite simple.

  When the dick was so good that you got up at the crack of dawn to run to the grocery store for whole milk for his coffee even though you had a gallon of skim milk in your fridge? You were dickmatized.

  When the dick was so good that you wore your shortest, tightest dress with a pair of shoes that doubled as torture devices because he said you looked good enough to eat in that particular outfit … and then he did? You were dickmatized.

  When the dick was so good you called a taxi to drag your ass into Dublin in the pouring, freezing rain because you couldn’t stand another minute without his cock inside of you? Yup, I was dickmatized.

  Sophie: Remember when I made fun of you for flying to Stockholm to see Jackson? Well, I’m sorry. I take it all back.

  Katie: Why’s that?

  Sophie: Because I was so overcome by lust that I threw on my sexiest outfit and am sitting in the back of a taxi on my way to my own booty call.

  My phone rang two seconds later and when I answered, Katie screamed, “Who is he?”

  “Remember that guy I told you about? Declan?”

  “Oh yeah,” she answered, knowingly. “The guy from the hotel.”

  “When you say it like that, you make me sound like a hooker,” I whispered back.

  Unfortunately, I hadn’t whispered quietly enough because the cabbie—a man old enough to be my grandfather—glanced at me in the rearview mirror with an assessing once over.

  I smiled tightly and shook my head. “Not a hooker,” I mouthed.

  “If the over-the-knee boot fits,” Katie answered, a reference to Julia Roberts’s hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold character from Pretty Woman.