Beta: Koryou on LJ
Series: Part three of the Candy Covered Hearts Tainted By Masochistic Thoughts series (prequels include "Forgotten" and "Remembered")
Summary: "Experimenting" just sounds so juvenile.
A/N: This is gonna be the series that never ends. I swear. I already have a story in mind after this, and possible one after that. Jeez. Anyone remember when this started out as a one-shot? It's corrupted me. Oh, and this story should have been only three parts, but because of LJ's word limit and the way I wrote the story, there was no way to cut it into three parts without butchering scenes. So... five it is. Sorry.
Warning: Kinky, though not near as much as the first two stories of this series. Very very tame compared to that, actually. HA.
You know that picture everyone has in their mind of a perfect relationship? Just one moment, frozen in time, something so simple and yet so not at the same time? Something that may mean nothing to someone else but everything to you? Sophie was having that moment right now. She was leaning against the frame of her doorway, looking at her one, simple, perfect moment. It was nothing big, nothing grand, but it really was just amazing; the sheer simplicity of it.
Eliot was in her kitchen, barefoot, his hair tied back out of his face… cooking. Sophie didn't know why it was perfect, but it just was. She couldn't explain it. It wasn't like she always dreamed about a man in her kitchen (even though she would hope, considering she can't cook to save her own life). But she liked the way he went at it so seriously, like food was something that should never be messed with. It makes her smile. It felt a bit domestic, something she wasn't used to. She was also surprised to find out how much she enjoyed it.
"Mmm?" Eliot answers, distracted as he looks through her spice rack. He finds the one he's looking for, and sprinkles a dash of it into the pot on the stove. He does this move as he sprinkles it in there that almost makes her giggle, shuffling his feet a little, and it made her think of those blokes that have their own cooking show.
"Parker's gonna come over for dinner," she tells him. She watches him, trying to gauge his reaction. But he doesn't show anything on his face except for complete concentration as he goes over to the fridge. "Is that okay? Do you have enough?"
"Yeah, I got enough. It's cool. Just don't let her come in here and ask for substitutions again. I'm not a fuckin' restaurant."
Sophie smirks, remembering the dinner from last week. Parker wanted mashed potatoes instead of green beans, and apparently thought Eliot was some kind of magical cook that could make it appear out of thin air. She was disappointed to find out that wasn't the case.
She's half sure Eliot was disappointed that he wasn't a magical cook either. Not like he'll admit it though. He told Parker she was being ridiculous.
"I'll let her know," Sophie promises, and walks over to give him a kiss on the cheek, wrapping her arm around his waist as he comes back over to the stove. She looks down at the food he's preparing, having absolutely no bloody idea what it is. "Smells good," she tells him.
"Of course it does, I'm the one making it."
She rolls her eyes. "Cocky bastard." She gives him a little playful push, and can see the hint of a smile form on his face. Then she hears a noise, and looks out to the living room; it was the front door opening. She sighs; Parker. She did lock the thing. And it's ridiculous, because she tried to give her a key two weeks ago, but Parker wouldn't take it. Told her that took the fun out of everything. Like she still actually found sport in picking a simple door lock.
"Parker's here," Eliot says, not even turning around, his hearing attuned to the door too. They had to be, only because they didn't want Parker to ever walk in on anything… well, anything that she shouldn't see. Sophie's pretty sure she'd die of embarrassment if Parker ever witnessed the kind of sex she has with Eliot. She knows about it, sure. But knowing and seeing are two completely different things. "Now get the hell outta my kitchen, woman," Eliot says gruffly, trying to sound all macho manly and controlling. Though saying 'my kitchen' kind of made that null and void.
Sophie rolls her eyes again, giving him one last shove for good measure, and walks into the living room. Parker was already on the couch, remote in hand. Her knees were up to her chest, feet on the cushions. Sophie sighs a little and walks over to her, flopping down on the couch next to her and slapping her feet lightly to tell her they don't belong on her furniture. Parker moves them without even looking at her, but only because she knew what was coming. Today was the day… again. And since she called up and asked if she could come over, that meant that today ended up not being the day… again.
"What went wrong this time?" Sophie asks, as if the question is repetitive, because it is.
Parker doesn't look at her, just stares at the TV as she absentmindedly flips through the channels. She fidgets a little under Sophie's gaze. "The sky is too blue today," she says flatly.
Over the last month, Parker had been trying to work up the nerve to tell Hardison that she liked him. Every week, she would set a specific date, tell Sophie that "that was the day." Then she sets out to do it; firm, determined. But yet she always came back to Sophie that evening, with another excuse of why she didn't. At first they were things like "he wasn't home", or something more elaborate, like he was mad at his computer cause something broke, and then Jehovah's Witness came by and it frustrated Hardison more because he didn't want to talk about God (which really, what does that have to do with telling him she liked him?) Sometimes the excuses were even longer than that, more elaborate. Once she told her about how she found a baby kitten and saved him from an evil gardener with one eye that she heard eats kittens and serves them up for Thanksgiving, passing it off as turkey. But they've gotten flimsier, clearly, and this? Well this was downright ridiculous. She wasn't even trying anymore.
"The sky was too blue," Sophie deadpans, staring at her. Surely she could have thought of something better than that. She knows Parker's imagination isn't lacking.
"Yeah. When I tell him, it has to be a little gray. Then when he kisses me, the gray will go away and the blue will come out and birds will sing, or something." She looks unsure about the birds part though. She continues to fidget under Sophie's gaze. She knows she's about to be lectured.
"You have a very unreasonable and unreachable expectation, you know."
"It's not unreasonable, it's how it's going to happen," Parker tells her, looking away from the TV finally to address Sophie to her face.
"You hate birds."
"I didn't say I wasn't gonna shoot the birds after they started singing," Parker says, like she should have figured that one out of herself. Sophie can feel a migraine coming on. She rubs her temples, trying to soothe the forthcoming pain. She just didn't understand any of this, she really, truly didn't.
"Why the hell is this so hard for you?"
"I don't know," Parker avoids, turning back to the TV. But Sophie's sick of the damn TV, so sick of everyone coming over her house to watch TV, really, so she snatches the remote out of Parker's hand and turns it off. Parker makes sounds of grumpy protest.
"You do know, you just won't tell me."
"I need the remote," Parker tells her, making a grab for it, but Sophie holds it away from her, leaning back a little. "Sophie, you're going to make me miss my show!" Sophie's pretty sure she doesn't actually have a show she needed to watch. Parker has never mentioned liking any specific television show, ever. She just likes staring at that mind-numbing box.
"I couldn't give a shit less if I was making you miss the President's bloody inauguration, you're going to talk to me," Sophie tells her, still trying to hold the remote out of Parker's reach. Parker looks annoyed, and suddenly her hand is on Sophie's thigh as she climbs on top of her, try to get it back. Sophie held it away from her, but there was only so far she could go. Parker swipes for it. She almost gets it, so Sophie does the first thing she can think of:
She puts it down her shirt. She ain't gonna go in there.
Sophie just wanted to talk to her. She knows Parker's feelings for Hardison, and she just doesn't understand why she can't just go for it and be happy. It might have taken Sophie a whole year to let Eliot know how she felt about him, but this is different for Parker. Hardison wants her, she knows that. So it's not like she has anything to be afraid of.
Parker cocks an eyebrow at her. "You're acting like I won't go in there and get it."
"You wouldn't," Sophie says, in this little warning tone like she better not. But then Parker pounces on her, and Sophie shrieks. "PARKER!" But Parker's hands are up her shirt already, and Sophie's trying to grab them, pull her away. She manages too for a minute, but then they're up there again, lifting the shirt up so high that she was starting to get a good look at her bra. "Parker!" she yells again, trying to fend her off.
That makes both of them stop, and look up at Eliot who's staring at them, his hands full of plates of food. Parker's hands are still up Sophie's shirt, but they're both frozen in place at the sudden witness. "Stop trying to undress each other for two seconds and come eat, please."
"I wasn't letting her—!" Sophie starts to protest, but then realizes Parker's hand isn't just up her shirt; it's most definitely very much on her boob. She slaps it away, and Parker looks annoyed. "She wanted the remote," Sophie tries to explain, even though she knows Eliot really couldn't care less. She doesn't get it, she really doesn't.
Most men get off at the thought of two women together. Which wasn't what Parker and her were, by the way. They so weren't two women together, not in that sense anyway, but the way they were always up in each other's space sometimes would have it seem that way. But it doesn't faze Eliot; he just knows that's how they are. He's made it clear he doesn't care what she does with Parker, as long as she doesn't have sex with her. But she doesn't want to have sex with Parker, she doesn't. She's happy with Eliot, so why would she? But all the touchy feely girlyness between them doesn't even make Eliot bat an eyelash. He's just so… whatever about the whole ordeal.
"And to cop a feel, obviously," Eliot says, but he's amused by it. She narrows her eyes at him. She hates how he encourages it, but just more so because she doesn't see the logic behind it if he didn't even care about seeing it.
"I thought it was the remote," Parker says. What a little liar. She's not even a good liar.
Eliot snorts. "Right." Then he's making his way into the dining room, calling behind him. "Now get your asses up and come eat, I didn't make this for shits and giggles, here."
Sophie narrows her eyes at Parker as she takes the remote out of her shirt and sets it down. "You could have gotten that," she says. Not that she wanted her to, but she's accusing her of something else now.
"I got distracted," Parker says, in this light airy tone like that didn't mean something that Sophie was seriously going to have to talk to her about later. She knew Parker sometimes had different intentions. And it wasn't like Sophie was completely against the idea, but she was with Eliot. She loves Parker, she does. She's her best friend. But they can't ever be like that, no matter how much Eliot doesn't give a shit. Especially because she knows the only reason Parker is showing an interest in her to avoid having that talk with Hardison
For whatever bloody stupid reason.
They both get up, coming over to the dining room. But Eliot's phone rings, and he picks it up, "Yeah?" There's a long pause, and Sophie and Parker sit down. "No… yeah no that's cool. I'll meet you there in twenty," Eliot says to the other person on the line and hangs up.
"But there's dinner," Sophie complains, not even caring what it's about. He looks at her.
"Ya'll eat, it's fine. Nate just needs to me to run back up for him on a case he might pick up for us. He says someone might follow the client, so I just gotta… you know. Do my job."
Sophie sighs, unhappy about it. She understands, yes, but she mostly definitely isn't happy about it. "You'll come back after?"
"Yeah, unless it takes too long. Then I'll just crash out," he says as he grabs his coat, putting it on. She narrows her eyes.
"You can crash out here, you know."
Eliot smirks, turning to face her. "Sophie, I've been over here the last three days. Space is good sometimes." She rolls her eyes as a retort to that, but she knows he's right. They don't need to be getting sick of each other, after all. He leans down and kisses her softly. "I'll call you either way," he tells her. Then he turns and leaves, and Sophie just internally pouts. She can't help it.
Parker's already dug into her food though, munching away happily. Sophie looks at her and bites her lower lip softly, just wondering if now is a good time to have that talk with Parker. Good a time as any, she supposes. The sooner the better, probably. While the groping and stuff isn't horrible, it just has to… you know, calm down. A little. Just so it doesn't go any further.
"Parker, you know I love you right?" Sophie starts out, just needing to get that out there. Parker looks at her, fork halfway to her mouth. She sets it down.
"You're going to complain about something," she states, knowing already where this was leading. "What did I do this time?"
"Don't say it like that," Sophie says, feeling bad. That's not… she doesn't think of Parker as a problem that she has to correct all the time, but that's the way Parker was making it seem. "I just need to talk to you, it's not something I'm complaining about."
Parker just stares at her blankly. Sophie hates when she does that, because she can never tell what she's thinking. She's pretty sure Parker knows it too, and that's why she does it. She's been getting a lot of blank stares lately. It's the only way Parker can block Sophie out of her mind. Because that's apparently what she's convinced Sophie was: a mind reader. She asked her how she got her superpowers a couple weeks ago. That was a headache and half of a conversation.
"Look," Sophie starts, looking down at her plate and pushing the vegetable around on it with her fork uncomfortably. "It's not that I'm not… flattered. But I'm with Eliot, and you keep… doing things."
"Like touching your boob." A statement; she already knows.
"Yeah, like that. That would be a big one," Sophie says, looking back up at her. This conversation was so awkward, and while it showed with her, Parker seemed very nonchalant with it. Sophie's sure it's just an act though. Parker always tries to disassociate. Sophie's pretty sure that isn't entirely healthy.
Not that Parker is exactly the poster girl for healthy behavior.
"I wasn't trying to have sex with you," Parker tells her. She's just looking at her, showing nothing about what she's feeling.
"I know that."
"And it's not like you haven't touched me," Parker goes on, and that makes Sophie get defensive. She most certainly did nothing of the sort. She doesn't just randomly feel people up. What kind of person would that make her? She might be kinky and whatever, she can accept that, but she's not a pervert.
"The first time I was supposed to tell Hardison. You made me wear that stupid dress with that ugly pattern, and then when you were 'adjusting' it, you felt me up."
"I did not!" A pause. "And the pattern wasn't ugly. You looked nice."
Except that she did. She did feel her up, she remembers doing it now that Parker mentioned it. It wasn't like she planned on it, but her hands just kind of… did it. She doesn't know. It was three days after that mind-blowing kiss they shared, and she was still in her little curious bisexual phase. She got over that phase, mostly. Just cause… just cause it would complicate things. She didn't think Parker noticed that she touched her; at least she didn't act like she did.
"Yeah you did."
She totally copped a cheap feel. She was as bad as Parker was. Damnit.
"I don't remember that."
"It went something like this," Parker says, and for the love of shit, starts to demonstrate, mocking her. She puts her hands on her chest, right over her tank top and pretends to be Sophie, "Oh, yeah, we should probably pin it… like this…" she mocks, and slides her hands under her shirt, pretending to adjust it from the inside, but really pretty much grabbed her own boob.
Okay, Sophie did not grab her. She has more tact than that.
"I didn't do it like that!" Sophie defends, but Parker takes her hands out of her shirt, smirking.
"You do remember."
"Yes, and I didn't grab you. My hand just… brushed by it," Sophie defends further. She was trying to make it sound less pervy than it really was, but it wasn't really working.
"Repeatedly. And I didn't have a bra on. You did. You do now."
Sophie just glares at her. She's right, she's being a hypocrite. That annoys her. "Well I'm not gonna do it again," she says suddenly, like that should change things, make it better. It doesn't, of course. Now she's just trying to talk her way out of a conversation that she initiated. Bloody stupid.
"Don't 'whatever' me." Lord, she almost just added 'young lady' onto the end of that sentence. That couldn't be good in any way, shape or form.
Parker just stares at her. Sophie stares back.
Then Parker rolled her eyes, putting her hands on the end of the table, and pushes her chair back away from it. She stands up. "Where are you going?" Sophie asks.
"Gonna watch my show," Parker tells her evenly, and walks away from the dinner table. Sophie just stares at her retreating form, watching her go into the other room and sit back down on the couch. She didn't even finish her food. Did she just upset her?
Sophie looks down at her plate of her food, knowing she should eat, but doesn't have the appetite anymore. She sighs, frustrated, and gets up from the table, following Parker into the living room. Parker doesn't look at her as Sophie sits next to her on the couch. Neither of them speak for a long time. She's wondering why Parker's still here if she's mad, Parker wasn't exactly against storming out dramatically.
Ten minutes pass. Parker still doesn't even acknowledge her presence, and it's starting to really bother Sophie. Finally she gives in, "Alright, what did I do?"
"Parker, I know you're mad at me."
"Don't lie to me."
"Shhh," Parker shushes her. "I'm trying to watch this." She still doesn't look at her, and Sophie sighs. She doesn't like this feeling. She's gotten Parker mad before, but this has never happened. Parker will usually outright tell her what she did; yell at her, show that she's angry with her. This was… unnerving.
Sophie just lets her watch her show though, maybe give her time to cool off. She's not into it herself though, so she touches Parker's hair, just wanting to play with it. Just do something. But Parker flinches and moves away from her. That makes Sophie's hands freeze, hands in mid air. This really couldn't be good. Parker's never not let her touch her before.
"Parker, please don't be like this…" Sophie tries, but she isn't met halfway.
"I'm not like anything; I'm trying to watch TV."
This was hurting Sophie really badly. She's never felt this cold, distant chill from Parker since they first met; when she didn't trust her. Didn't trust any of them. Did she do something to make her not trust her anymore? What could she have possibly done?
Sophie bites on her bottom lip hard. She's upset, but doesn't want to really show it. She's afraid if she does, with the way Parker's acting, she just wouldn't care. She wouldn't be able to handle that, because Parker's always been there for her.
"I'm sorry," Sophie says softly, feeling horrible about whatever it was that she did. It didn't matter; she was just sorry for it. A commercial was on, so Parker's eyes flicker over to her.
"For what?" she asks in an even tone.
"I don't know, whatever it is that's making you hate me," Sophie says, looking at her. Her chest was tightening. Damnit. She bites her lip harder. She was not going to cry. God, she really has become an emotional wreck ever since she's been with these people, hasn't she? She used to not feeling anything. Right now, she can't decide if that was better or worse.
Parker's eyes flicker to her again, only for a moment. "I don't hate you."
"Then what's wrong?"
Parker's eyes roll up, and she puffs out her cheeks as she lets out this breath of air. She's fidgeting a little, and Sophie knew that reaction well enough at least. Finally she stops moving, her eyes back on the TV. Sophie waits, but nothing comes. Parker's playing with her hands. She's uncomfortable.
"You made me feel something weird," she tells her finally. She still doesn't look at her. Okay, that was a start at least.
"What did it feel like?" Sophie asks, knowing Parker isn't good with emotions, especially if she hasn't seemed to experience it before, so she didn't know how well this description would be.
"It was tight," Parker tells her, squinting a little as she thinks, trying to figure it out. "Here," she touches her chest. She takes a breath, and finally she looks at her. "It didn't feel good."
"I wasn't rejecting you," Sophie tries to explain. That wasn't what she was doing. Not really.
"That's what that feels like?" Parker asks. Then she makes a face. "I've decided I don't like it." But Sophie just looks at her. Parker's never been rejected before? In her whole life? That was… odd. Then again, with how long it's taking her to tell Hardison that she likes him, she shouldn't be so surprised. She doesn't seem to get far enough to give anyone the chance.
"Yes, but that's not what I was doing."
Parker looks at her for a long time, tilts her head to the side slightly as she studies her. Finally she seems to draw a conclusion because she says, "I don't believe you."
Great. Bloody perfect.
"It's not that I didn't like it," Sophie tries to explain. This was difficult. She wanted to make things clear, but telling her she likes it might not. But she has to be honest with her. "I loved when you kissed me," she admits. "That was… amazing, okay? It was. And the touching is nice, I kind of enjoy it. But just because I do, doesn't mean we should. I'm with Eliot, you know that. If we continue to do… other stuff, it might screw up our friendship. Turn into something more that I just can't give you."
"Why can't we just be friends that kiss? Eliot says everyone else has them. Do you think he kisses Hardison?"
Sophie's not even going to dignify that with an answer. That was ridiculous. Hopefully. Instead she tells her, "It's different with us."
Sophie purses her lips together. She doesn't know why, she just knows that it is. She picks at her fingernails and shrugs, "I don't know, it just is. I can't explain it. I wish I could, I know you need a reason, but I just don't know."
Parker leaves it, but Sophie knows it isn't over; it isn't finished. She knows Parker still doesn't get it, and because of that, Sophie isn't sure if she's just going to keep trying, or just end up staying mad at her. She didn't like either scenario. She lay in bed that night, facing the wall, just staring at it. She sighs heavily. Again. The fourth time in a row.
It annoys Eliot.
"For shit's sake, Sophie. Just fucking tell me what the hell is wrong."
Sophie makes a face, but knows why he's grumpy. It's the middle of the night after all, and apparently she's keeping him awake. She rolls over to face him, letting her hand find his. She laces their fingers together and rests her head on his shoulder. She just needed to feel comforted.
"Parker's mad at me I think."
"Why? What'd you do to her money?"
Sophie rolls her eyes and scoffs. God, there's more to the way Parker ticks than just money. "I didn't do anything to her money, Eliot. God. She is a person you know, not just some kind of money obsessed robot."
He ignores her, stifling a yawn. "Just tell me what you did."
"Why do you automatically assume it's what I did?" Sophie asks, offended. It's not like she goes around and pisses everyone off all the time, so it's not exactly like it should be expected.
"She's mad at you for a reason. Put two and two together, Sophie," he says in this annoyed little tone, like he really doesn't want to be up right now, having this conversation. But that just makes Sophie smile, because she knows the only reason he's doing it is for her. So she tells him, not wanting to keep him awake to the point he gets bitchy grumpy. And he can get that way too, like Queen bitchy. It was a bit frightening.
"I told her she needed to stop touching me."
"Then take it back; let her grope you. There, problem solved. Goodnight." And then he rolls over, away from her. What a bastard.
Eliot grumbles something under his breath, and reluctantly turns back around to face her. "What?"
"Why don't you care about this? You're supposed to care when other people touch your girlfriend," she says, accusing him of being… of just being a non-controlling, non-jealous jackass.
She knows that's a stupid reason to complain.
"She's your best friend; I couldn't give two flying shits. I know you ain't gonna run off with her into the damn sunset."
"You know what your problem is?" No, but she's sure he's going to tell her. His grumpiness was getting worse, starting to slip into bitchiness. "You have a great big giant stick up your ass."
Her eyes go wide, and then she narrows them, glaring at him. She does not. "How, after everything I let you do to me, everything I do to you, can you even have the nerve to say something like that?"
"Sophie, you fuckin' have lesbian porn." He says that like that's relevant to the conversation in some way.
But that makes her stop. "…..How do you know that?" she asks. She bought it a couple weeks ago, she was just curious. But she didn't want Eliot to know, so she hid it. She was embarrassed by it. She hasn't even watched it yet; hasn't gotten up the nerve. She wasn't a big porn watcher.
"You hid it under your mattress. You're not exactly a master of deception."
"Why the hell did you look under my mattress?"
"To find your porn."
Lord. This was stupid, and it was starting to annoy her. "What's your point?" she asks in a huff.
"That the kiss you had with Parker obviously fucking did something to you, since you walked in front of the TV naked and fucked the hell out of me after it happened. You're bisexual, Sophie. Get over it. Embrace it. I don't give a fuck, just stop fucking with Parker and then she won't be pissed at you all the damn time, and maybe I can get some sleep."
"So what are you telling me here, that you want me to experiment with her?" Sophie asks, like it shocks her. It should, right? Hell. That was kind of… fucked up.
"No, I'm telling you that you already do want to, but you're just being a pussy about it. If you want to experiment, then experiment. Make out with her, fucking grab her damn tits. Like I care. If it helps you get through this little moment of self crisis you got going on, then that stops my headaches as an added bonus. Just as long as you know where I draw the line." A pause, "Don't cross it. I fuckin' mean that."
"I wouldn't, I would never, but I still don't understand why the hell you are okay with this."
"Cause I'm not threatened by it, Sophie. I know you'd never be able to be in an actual relationship with her; she'd drive you fuckin' nuts. She's head over damn heels for Hardison, even if that ain't happened yet. You'd just be fucking around, it really doesn't matter."
Sophie's silent for a little while. She doesn't want to admit that he might be right. Maybe a little. She was curious, she couldn't deny that. But she couldn't even bring herself to watch the porn, how the hell is she going to just…? Fuck. Eliot rolls over, like that's the end of the conversation, and she sighs. It just doesn't feel right, to just… do that. To go "experiment" with Parker just to… try something new. Explore other areas of her sexuality. She's with Eliot, shouldn't she be exploring new areas with him?
"Eliot?" she asks quietly, deciding something.
"What?" It was a dangerous kind of 'what', like he was warning her not to be an idiot anymore. But she's not.
"Will you watch the porn with me tomorrow? Just to… let me see if I'd… like it?"
She rolled her eyes. "Way to make it sound sexy." God, he could have at least sounded a bit more enthusiastic than that. This was hard for her, he could at least sound a bit more supportive and try to make it into something he'll know she'll enjoy.
Eliot grumbles something, but rolls over, getting on top of her. He looks down at her, giving her a dirty little smirk, and she can see the silhouette of his face outlined by the moonlight coming in through the window. He leans in, lips to her ear, and whispers, "Fine." He says it with a bit of a drawl, that deep southern accent, making her squirm. That was better. But he's not done. "You're gonna watch it," he continues, and his hand runs down her bare chest, making her skin prickle and her hairs stand on end. "And I'm gonna watch you fuck yourself to it, fingers buried in your tight little cunt while you imagine fucking the hell out of some bitch."
He grabs her hip roughly, and the breath catches in her throat. It wasn't what he said; it was how he said it. Really he could have told her that he wanted her to stick a bloody cucumber up her and she would have done it, just because anything he says in that tone of voice sounds sexy. "You gonna make me?" she asks, a little vulnerable. It makes him grin in that wicked little way that she loves.
"Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin' make you, bitch," he tells her, and she pushes her hips into him just getting turned on by his control. He laughs low in his throat, and it tickles her ear, "And you're gonna like it." That makes Sophie shiver. She runs her hand up his chest, just needing to feel him.
"Oh, I fuckin' promise you…"