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Authors: Michelle Zurlo

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BOOK: Hanging On
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He laughed lightly, the dissonance of the rumble transferring easily to her chest. The moan that escaped when his hot mouth closed around one nipple was involuntary. Juices ran down her legs, smearing across her thighs and itching down the crack of her ass. The sheet below her was sopping wet.

Her body was languid and liquid.

With just one more touch, Drew turned her molten. She couldn’t find the energy to fight the leather straps binding her in place.

She heard whimpering, moaning, and begging. The voice was hers, but the need was primal, bypassing her brain completely. When he gave the same attention to the other breast, licking the honey slowly to soften it up, then sucking hard to cleanse it away, she was out of her mind with need.

She swore at him, threatening bodily harm if he didn’t give her clit the same treatment. It wasn’t that she wanted the feeling gone. She just wanted the burning need assuaged. She needed to rub against him in the worst way.

Drew shifted over her. The straps binding her legs disappeared. His jeans hit the floor. She never thought she could want someone like this. The need in her eclipsed everything she’d ever felt for Drew before.

He lifted her, turned her over, and pushed her knees underneath to lift her ass in the air. The bound hands stretched out above her head relegated her to having to accept this position without modification. She couldn’t lift her torso to push back against him. She would be forced to accept what he wanted to give.

Gravity caused her thick, creamy juices to flow toward her clit, wetting the nearly dried honey mixture and sending the tingles zinging over a much wider area. She bucked backward as much as she could, begging for him to
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fill her and knowing it wouldn’t happen. For starters, he hadn’t removed the softly pulsing vibrator from her pussy. In this position, it pressed forward and down, heightening her arousal. She was near orgasm, again.

The head of his cock nudged against the muscle closing her anus.

Anticipation flooded her.

A hand traced along her spine, trying to chase the tension gripping her body. “Relax, Sophia. Let me inside you.”

“I can’t,” she gasped. “I’m going to come.”

“Not yet.” The vibrations, already soft, muted further.

She knew how this was done. Breathing deeply, she shoved backward against his tip. “Now, Drew. Don’t hold back.” He didn’t. With a shuddering groan, he impaled her. His hips pistoned, thrusting into her with uncontrolled passion. One hand crept around her thigh to turn up the vibrator. It stayed to massage her clit.

Sophia’s body was no longer her own. She had no control over the way it bucked and the sounds that tore from deep inside. Dimly, and from a distance, she heard the wet slapping of his hips and balls against her ass, and the animal grunts and moans they both made.

Drew said her name over and over, and that was her last semi-coherent memory. Black spots dotted her vision seconds before a blindingly white light obscured it completely. The orgasm ripped through her. The long, low cry went on and on and on until her knees gave out.

He held her in place for one last thrust that sent him over the edge. He collapsed next to her, rolling to his back and reaching up to release the straps binding her wrists.

The burning in her pussy was not assuaged. It motivated her to rip the vibrator from inside and throw it to the floor. Energy flowed through her, fresh and urgent. She had no idea where it came from.

The walls of her pussy still wept and clenched. She straddled Drew, facing him with iron determination.

Sweat glistened over his chest and shoulders. She was right about how arresting he looked this way, but she didn’t let it distract her. Sophia’s body heaved up and down with the large breaths moving his chest and stomach.

With one finger, she tested the folds of her pussy. Because he had ignored her clit for so long, it wasn’t the least bit sore or oversensitive.

“You’re not finished.”

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He grinned, something both cocky and meaningful, and ran his hands up her thighs. “With you? Never.”

“What did you put on me?” The potency was waning, but it still burned pleasantly, firing her passion when she should have been exhausted. “And don’t give me that line about being a chef when you weaseled two of my mother’s cooking secrets from her and are about to profit from them both.”

“Weaseled?” He bit his upper lip in an attempt to hide that grin. “I prefer ‘charmed.’ It sounds so much nicer. Besides, I’ll give her credit on-air. Now, tell me what you want, honey. I’m all yours.” Lazily, she gave his nipple a light tweak. “You better believe it, mister.” Scooting her way up his body, she made her intention clear. “I want your mouth on my pussy. I want you to lick away every drop of that stuff until I come in your mouth. Then I’m going to fuck you until you pass out.” Amusement lifted the corners of his mouth and crinkled his eyes. “I love how you make that sound like a challenge.” Parking his hands under her thighs, he lifted her into place. “I’m up to the task, honey. I’ve dreamed about you for four agonizing days, and you didn’t even kiss me when I came back an entire day early just to see you.” She refrained from mentioning how pissed she had been at him. “I’ll have to work on greeting you with more enthusiasm when you return from a trip.”

Discouraging any further conversation, she lowered her pussy to his mouth. He opened, licking long and deep with that hot tongue. His teeth nipped at her clit and other places she never considered bitable. Winding his arms around her thighs and gripping her ass with those large hands, he held her to him and feasted on her flesh.

The first orgasm took her by surprise, coming fast and hard. She shuddered and screamed, falling forward, but he didn’t stop. She gripped the headboard for balance, and the second orgasm rocketed through her.

That man had a magic mouth.

Lifting her from him, he set her on his freshly sheathed, rock-hard cock.

She slid down him hard and fast, riding him to that same rhythm. The burn caused by the mixture was gone, licked clean away. Now it was replaced with another burn, this one originating low in her abdomen.

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Electric heat shot through her nervous system, sending cold sparks through her arms and legs to short-circuit those muscles. She lost the rhythm at the threshold of the largest orgasm she’d ever had.

Drew flipped her over. Lifting her legs high to hook over his shoulders, he drove into her, pounding to the rhythm she set. She’d always forced her lovers to be gentle. Drew was nothing of the sort right then, and she loved it.

From a distance, she heard a shriek and a roar, and then everything went black.

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Chapter 21

The playroom had no visible windows. Though they were still accessible, she’d covered them with the soundproof foam that hung on the walls and ceiling. When she woke sometime later, she had no idea how much time had passed. It could be morning for all she knew.

The only certainties were twofold. First, Drew had passed out at the same time she did. He was still inside her. Second, breathing was challenging because he had collapsed on top of her.

Surreptitious wiggling didn’t work. She tried shoving him gently, but that only made him groan and tighten his hold.

“Drew.”

He didn’t stir.

A pressing need in the region of her bladder urged Sophia on her mission. She shook his shoulder insistently. “Drew.” One eye cracked open. That ice-blue orb barely focused on her before closing again.

“Honey, I need you to get off me.”

“I got off on you,” he mumbled without moving. “Let me rest, and I’ll do it again.”

God, she loved his sense of humor. She sent up a prayer now. “Lord, ‘do thy best to pluck this crawling serpent from my chest.’” That got his attention. “Did you just call me a nightmare?” Whoops. Her sleep-addled brain chose the wrong quotation. Her smile was sheepish. “I just meant you’re heavy, and I have to pee.”

“You’re lucky, DiMarco,” he said, narrowing his eyes in false vexation.

“‘The more you beat me, the more I fawn on you.’” Interesting choice of words for a man who didn’t respond to the whip.

“Can you fawn on me in ten minutes? I wanted to jump in the shower, too.”
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With a resigned sigh, he removed himself. Because they had dried together, it was a little painful. “Sorry,” he said when she flinched.

She rolled from the bed as soon as she could.

“Oh, shit. Sophie, I’m sorry.”

That didn’t sound good. Glancing back, she saw the color had drained from his face. “What’s wrong?”

He looked up at her, lost. “You’re bleeding. I hurt you.” Then she saw it. The wet spot on the sheet was stained pink with fresh blood and darker with dried blood. Peering down at herself, she saw the smears coating her thighs. She breathed a sigh of relief for more than one reason. “You didn’t hurt me, Drew. I’m all right.” Realization dawned on him rather quickly for a man.

“I’m going to jump in the shower,” she threw over her shoulder as she headed to the next room.

The hot spray washed away her worries. She shed a few silent tears, both in sorrow and relief. The curtain opened, and Drew joined her. His arms came around her from behind. She let her head fall against his shoulder, and he buried his face in her neck.

“You were right,” he said. A sad acceptance permeated his words.

She thought back to the day the condom broke. He hadn’t been upset by anything other than her refusal to have a reaction. He had loved her then.

She crossed her arms over his, twining their fingers together. “Are you all right?” The question was gentle and not judgmental.

“Yeah. You?”

Taking a deep breath, she plunged forward. “I want kids, Drew, with you. But not yet. I’m not ready to be a mother. I’ve already contacted my doctor about starting the Pill.”

He nodded, a small movement that didn’t take his face out of her neck.

His arms tightened around her. Then, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder and let go. “I feel a little guilty about being relieved. I want kids with you, but I want a few years of having you to myself first. It’s selfish, but I don’t want to share your attention just yet.”

She turned in to his arms, meeting his lips in a tender kiss that communicated exactly how serious this thing was between them. She thought she could get him out of her system. Now she knew that would never happen. He was part of her, and she was part of him.

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When they finally made it upstairs, they found it was late morning.

Drew didn’t have to be at work, but Sophia had plenty to do. As she scurried around getting ready, he caught her in his arms.

“Sophie, do me one favor this week?”

This week, she wouldn’t see very much of him. Though they would work three days in the same building, she would be busy upstairs, and he would be busy downstairs. According to the receipts she saw, his catering business didn’t seem to have a slow season, and neither did the bakery. If their growth rate kept up, they would need to greatly expand their staff and facilities.

She nodded in response to his question, indicating he should ask the favor.

“Stay at my house. It’s closer to the bakery, Daniel’s studio, and Ellen’s club. I’ll teach you the alarm code so you can come and go as you please.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he continued. “You have an exhausting schedule this week, and the drive back and forth might just kill you. I can’t have that happening. Just pack up what you think you’ll need, and I’ll take it home today.”

Her protest died as she thought through his reasoning. He was right. She nodded and set off to select her wardrobe for the week.

He was right about how bad the week was. She rushed to Daniel’s studio and worked until dark. The only reason she left when she did was because Drew called Daniel and told him to kick her out. She fell into bed next to Drew and slept like the dead.

Tuesday wasn’t any better. Her mother loved watching Drew tape his show. Sophia found the process interesting and odd. He was so busy with preparations, makeup, lighting, and retakes, it didn’t seem to matter that she was there.

Ginny as a producer was an interesting thing to watch. She commanded the crew with finesse and ease. Filming went off without a hitch.

That evening, she leaned against Drew, dozing on his shoulder as they danced. He made excuses to leave early, but she insisted on going to Daniel’s. Again, he kicked her out when Drew called.

Wednesday, she worked all day at Sensual Secrets, taught her self-defense class, and worked on Daniel’s accounting. It was well after
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midnight when she finally finished. Drew had called again, but Sophia growled at Daniel to grow a pair, and he left her alone after that.

Thursday, she was dead on her feet by the time she finished her shift at Ellen’s. Friday was worse because she dragged herself from bed exhausted in the morning, and she worked all day and most of the night.

Saturday, Drew growled and threatened to tie her to the bed when she tried to go into Sensual Secrets to make up some of the time she lost working at Daniel’s Monday and Tuesday.

Saturday night, she was awake at the club for the first time that week.

Though she was alert, the joy had gone out of the job. She no longer harbored the vast reserves of guilt and pain and fear for which this had become an emotional outlet.

Ellen didn’t look surprised when Sophia handed in her notice. She smiled, a move that transformed her face into something beautiful. “You don’t have to give notice, Sophia. I’m glad your business is doing well, and I’m ecstatic that you’re in love with a good man. You deserve to be happy, and I’m glad you can finally see that.” She went home that night, to her own house. She hadn’t been there all week. Daniel had come by to collect her mail, and a large stack was piled on her kitchen table. After staying with Drew for a week, it was too quiet. Her cozy house had become a lonely place.

Yet, she needed some time away from Drew to breathe. He had been very understanding all week, not complaining that she crashed in his bed well after midnight and rose near dawn the next morning to start everything over. He cooked for her, making sure she didn’t skip meals, which she totally would have if he’d left her to her own devices.

And each night, he wrapped his body around hers and held her close.

The unrelenting pessimist inside her was cautiously optimistic. Instead of convincing herself that it couldn’t possibly last, she could see herself growing old with Drew. She loved him, and he loved her. The future unfolded before her, bright with promise.

It lasted three weeks.

Drew was delighted Sophia quit her job at Ellen’s club because it gave them evenings together. Ironically, he worked many nights. Clients often paid extra to make sure Drew Snow catered their event. He limited these appearances, but they still took him away several evenings each week.

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She finally introduced him to Christopher, whose relationship with Janelle probably wasn’t going to last the way they were going, and the three of them had a very satisfying evening together. She went hard on Chris, probably because she didn’t get the contract with his firm and he took more than two weeks to get back to her about it. Drew went easy on him, for the same reason. He thought she had enough to do.

One sunny Wednesday evening a week before Jonas and Sabrina’s wedding, Sophia was in the process of teaching the self-defense class at Danny’s studio.

He had two training arenas. The back one was private, and that’s where Sophia held her sessions. Most of the women had been through a lot already.

The last thing any of them needed was to have an audience.

Tonight’s session focused on close combat techniques. Only six women came, which was an average number. Sometimes there were as many as fifteen, but that didn’t happen often.

The women stood in an uncertain line, watching Sophia demonstrate on Daniel. He always made himself available to help demonstrate. Some of the positions she made him assume were ones he found distasteful, but he was a good sport about it, citing the greater good.

“Only one in twenty rapists will ever spend time in jail. Thinking the law will be on your side is a mistake. Rape is hard to prove, partially because 73 percent are committed by someone you know, especially someone with whom you’re involved.”

She didn’t know everyone’s stories, and they didn’t all know hers.

Sometime in the past two months, she had stopped sitting in on the group sessions. Alaina sat off to the side, watching. Her failed date with Daniel hadn’t scared her away. She still ran a support group meeting after the training session. She had bonded with some of the women who were now beginning to come regularly. Sophia wasn’t too caught up in her own life to miss the way Daniel looked at Alaina when he thought it was safe.

Daniel moved into position without being told. He wore padding and a cup because Sophia did not pull her punches. The women all had a chance to practice on him as well. He was good about telling them when they needed to hit with more force or when they needed to alter their stance.

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“You have to know how to defend yourself. Stop thinking about how much you don’t want to hurt his feelings or damage his face. Once a partner attacks you, the relationship is over.” Moving behind her, Daniel slipped his arms around Sophia’s waist.

“Hey, baby, I paid for dinner. It’s time for you to show me how thankful you are.”

She turned a sweet smile on him. “Not tonight. I have to get up early for work. I had a great time.”

“Let me in, just for a little while.” He did his best imitation of flirting.

“Okay, just for a few minutes.” Turning back to the group, she raised her brows. It was a familiar situation that every woman has found herself in at one time or another. “At this point, most of us aren’t thinking anything bad would happen. They had a good time on their date, and he appeared to take no for an answer.”

Using a very uncomfortable wicker sofa, they playacted a typical scene, minus the actual kissing and fondling. “You get the idea,” she explained.

Nervous laughter and twitters of apprehension rippled through the small group. For her part, Sophia hated this. She hadn’t fought Charlie when he raped her. Her mind spent the entire time grappling with the fact that her date, someone she had literally known since she was in second grade, was raping her.

“The hardest part is keeping a presence of mind,” she said. “When you know your attacker, when you have feelings for your attacker, it’s difficult to wrap your mind around the fact that he’s actually treating you this way.” Daniel pressed his advantage.

She went for a groin kick with her knee, but he blocked her.

Reflexively, she brought her hand up, shoving the heel of it into his nose.

She pulled this punch. Used full force, a swift, upward blow to the nasal cartilage could result in permanent brain damage or death.

He reeled as if she hadn’t pulled the punch, falling to the floor.

Leaping up, she assumed a defensive position. “Now I can put enough distance between us to use some of the other techniques I’ve shown you tonight. Most of the time, your date will call you a bitch and leave. Some men will keep it up, becoming more and more violent.” Daniel peeled himself from the floor. “Run to a neighbor’s house, or grab your keys and get in your car. If you grab your phone, call emergency.

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Don’t stick around just because you know a few moves. Most of the men who attack you are bigger and stronger. Maybe you can’t beat them, but hopefully you can buy yourself some time.” Glancing up, Sophia caught sight of Drew in the doorway. He was supposed to meet her at Ellen’s later for the continuation of her sporadic poker night. What was he doing here? She wasn’t sure how much he’d seen or heard, but he needed to leave.

BOOK: Hanging On
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