The room was nothing special, mirroring her own in most ways, although his view of the Port Charles Harbor was breathtaking, much more than hers. From her room’s view she’d only managed to get a small peek at the impressive waterfront the Quartermaine family had been upgrading for the last decade. From the vantage point of his floor to ceiling windows, lights twinkled against the blackness of the water as ships and boats of all shapes bobbed gently. She could see groups of people walking along or enjoying the warm glow of the restaurants and shops that ran along the boardwalk.
Without realizing, she walked to the sliding glass doors and unlocked them with a satisfied click. With a slight push, the doors slid open and the unmistakable scent of the sea breezed into the darkened room. She felt herself center as she kept her hands on the door handles, simply taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the harbor below.
Sonny watched her, unblinking, unflinching, drinking in her every movement. His irritation with Carly had vanished, his wonderings about Jason had gone and his early fight with Kristina and Taggert had dulled to a small awareness at the back of his mind.
He could see nothing but her, he could think of nothing but her and in that moment, he wanted nothing but her, in his arms, writhing beneath him, calling out his name. He swallowed hard as he felt a familiar stirring of want, his body coming to life at the mere idea of touching the beauty of Dara Jensen.
His face pinched with concentration, willing his body to settle as he shoved fisted hands into his pockets.
“Counsellor?”
His voice cut through her thoughts and she trembled at the slight growl in his timbre. He wasn’t irritated with her presence, she knew that much. It was what she heard underneath the growl that had sent the vibration through her body.
Need.
His need.
It matched her own.
This was why she came, wasn’t it? To confront it and put an end to it.
To stop.
She turned to face him, to really look at the man she’d spent far too much time on already. He lifted his gaze to hers and it was then she caught sight of the cut on his cheek and the bruising at the side of his face.
“Your face!” she gasped out, taking steps towards him, her hands up, reaching towards the injury. He winced and ducked his head slightly.
“Yeah, sometimes I run into fists,” he remarked dryly, turning to the bucket of ice on the counter. He grabbed a tea towel from the kitchen and taking a handful of ice, placed it in the center before gathering up the towel into a sack, twisting the ends firmly before resting it against his swollen cheek. He winced again and she sucked in her breath in sympathy.
“Who hit you?” she asked, her hands having dropped, though still tingling with the urge to touch his face.
Sonny perched at on a barstool at the marble island, pressing the ice pack more firmly as the cold began to do its magic. “Taggert.”
Dara crossed her arms in front of her, the accusation already present in her change in posture and he bit back a smile. “It was my fault,” he admitted before she could make the suggestion. “I reminded him of me and Alexis and the fact that we used to sleep together.”
Dara’s brows arched. “Why would you do that?” she asked dismay in her tone. She wrinkled her nose; did she really want to know?
“To piss him off,” Sonny replied, as though it were the most obvious answer. “I don’t really turn those opportunities down.”
Dara shook her head. “Of course you don’t.” Her eyes fell to the foyer where the door was. She should go, this was a bad idea.
“Oh, come on,” Sonny chided her. “If you were me, you’d do the same thing.”
Dara shook her head. “No, because I’m not you. I’m not like you at all.” Her voice was sharp and precise and it got under his skin, percolating the already heated nerves. He shifted in his seat and nodded to her.
“Great. You aren’t like me. So why are you here? In my room?” His voice was low and there was a hint of suggestion that made her stomach flips in summersault. He tilted his head with interest, his eyes midnight black and locked onto her.
She met the challenge in his gaze head on. “Because we need to talk,” she stated firmly.
“Oh? About what?”
There it was, the crackle of electricity of their eyes meeting, the message being sent and received.
He knew.
So did she.
She steeled her spine, refusing to wither under his molten gaze. “About what’s going on between us.”
Sonny stilled at her words. He didn’t think she’d say it. He found his throat was suddenly dry, and despite the ice pack against the side of his face, numbing his injury, he was sweating as her dark eyes bore into him.
He could play games. He could tease and flirt if he wanted. God knows he bedded plenty of women doing that.
But she didn’t want games or teasing or flirting.
Good.
Honestly, neither did he.
“Fine.” One word admitted what both knew. What both felt.
“It was that night,” she began softly. She moved to the ottoman a few feet away and sank into the seat. He didn’t have to ask which night she was referring to; he had replayed the events of the charity ball in his mind a thousand times.
“I knew something had changed after we spoke. Hell, I knew it the moment it happened,” she said, her hands clasping together, as if she was in confession. Perhaps she was, the darkened hotel room casting her in shadows, softening the reality of this moment with him. The few lights that were on created a dim glow throughout the hotel room. A lamp near the fireplace. A glow from the bedroom indicated a bedside table light was on. A small kitchen light and the dimmer at the dining table off the kitchen completed the ambiance. It felt warm and safe.
“I felt it too.” His voice was hushed and gentle, almost vulnerable. She looked up, seeing him place the ice pack on the marble surface beside him. He opened it up, pulling a small sliver of ice from it, pressing it into his mouth.
Her own mouth watered and she stifled a sigh as his jaw worked the ice around his mouth, his tongue no doubt swirling the frozen water as it melted.
Damn. Everything he did was intoxicating.
He repeated the movement twice more as her greedy eyes took in the sight, her mouth parting slightly. When he turned his gaze back to hers, she flicked her eyes away, but not before catching the heat flickering in his panther stare.
Why had she come?
Dara felt the breeze of the open doors, and couldn’t ignore the reason.
She’d come because she couldn’t stand to stay away any longer.
Sonny licked his lips, seeing the guilt and desire wash over her face again and again. He could only imagine what his face looked like. Did it mirror hers? Is that why there was longing to her gaze as she watched him?
She’d come.
She’d come to him.
He moved from his seat.
She’d been the brave one, the one to choose to stop dancing and simply face their attraction.
Now it was his turn.
He walked slowly towards her, his countenance willing her to trust him, even just for a few moments. She looked up as he stopped before her. She should leave.
She should.
She wouldn’t.
Slowly his hands took hers, still clutched together tightly, and with a firm but gentle pull, tugged her to her feet. The electricity swirled and crackled as their bodies stood close together, almost touching.
Both said nothing as he unclasped her hands and placed both of her open hands against his chest.
“So what do we do about this, Counsellor?”
He removed his hands from hers, letting them rest at his sides, though his fingers curled, itching for the touch of her skin.
Dara stood, feeling the thrum of heat from Sonny’s chest, sensing the firmness of his upper body.
She let out a soft chuckle and smiled at herself.
She was a fool.
How could she have possibly thought that coming here would lead to anything but this moment?
She was a damned good attorney, that’s how.
She had taken the truth, the unvarnished truth and masqueraded, convincing herself that she could control it, manipulate it and ultimately, be rid of it. She had spent a career convincing perfect strangers to see the story the way she wanted them to see it.
Of course she’d do her best job on herself. She felt a shift within her, a gear clicking into place as she finally accepted all of it.
Sonny stood still, waiting for a sign, his body screaming for him to take control, the way he always did.
He would not. Not this time.
Her fingers gripped the fabric ever so slightly, the pressure causing his teeth to clench.
His earlier question reverberated in her mind.
“So what do we do about this, Counsellor?”
Her eyes rose to his mouth, to lips that she knew ached to touch every part of her. The pull she felt towards him was hypnotizing. With every passing second, it was consuming her.
“We deal with it.”
There was a slight hitch, a hesitation before their mouths sank together in a deep, slow burning kiss. A deep sigh was released from both as they finally connected. Sonny’s mouth was soft, but strong, pulling Dara deeper and deeper as he drank her in. Her lips were tender and warm, but there was a hunger behind he hadn’t anticipated and she demanded more with every passing second.
The gates opened, the defenses came down and what began only short seconds ago as a tentative embrace, suddenly blazed to life, as the sheer freedom of their choice came to fruition.
Sonny clamped his hands to Dara’s slim waist, crushing her to his frame, his fingers skimming under her shirt at the small of her back, relishing the feel of her skin. Dara moaned in response, her voracious hands moving up, her fingers finding his dark locks, her nails grazing along his scalp as she pulled his mouth closer to hers.
Their movements were frantic, as though they were racing, the knowledge that coming together was never meant to be, and almost forbidden. Yet even with hurried precision, the intimacy they built was all their own. At first, there were no words spoken, and they took turns disrobing the other. First Dara’s shirt and then Sonny’s, Dara’s hands flying with surprising dexterity as she undid one button after the other. As skin was exposed, flushed and trembling, the need to be together grew stronger and then the words came.
“Don’t stop.”
“Let me.”
“Hurry.”
“Right there.”
“Please.”
“Now.”
A thrill coursed through Dara’s veins as Sonny grabbed her backside, lifting her up as her legs twined around his waist. He smiled, his dimples flashing and her heart fluttered.
Is this what it was to finally get what you want? To taste what you crave so badly, to push aside the warnings and just go with what is screaming at you to take? To feel it crash over you again and again as you answer its call again and again?
Dara tilted her head back as Sonny lay her down on the bed, his body covering hers, his mouth devouring the hollow of her neck. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs still fastened around his hips, not wanting to let him go, not for one second. His scent washed over her, drugging her, her nerve endings were on fire and all she wanted, all she could think was how much she needed to feel him inside her.
Normally, in times like these, the first time with a new lover, she would be a touch reserved. She needed to wait until she felt comfortable enough to participate fully. As though they were dancing together and she didn’t quite know the steps and so she would wait, watching, letting the other lead until she got the hang of it, until it clicked in her mind and body.
Then she would come to life.
Not so with Sonny. With Sonny it was an instant knowledge, an instant inner white hot calm that burned bright through every inch of her body.
She knew this dance. With every thump of her heart and every breath she took. Being here with him felt like the most natural thing she had ever chosen to do.
She let out a groan as his pelvis ground into her and she pulled his ear towards her mouth.
“Now!” she commanded, the growl in her voice sending a chill of delight through her. This was not happening to her. This was happening with her.
They were in this together.
Electrified, Sonny needed no further prompting. His arousal was finally freed from the confines of his boxers as Dara shimmied her panties down her lithe legs, not caring that they hung off her left ankle. Sonny rested his frame over hers, nestling himself between her thighs, feeling the heat radiate from her center.
For a few, long moments, he simply stared down at her, marveling that he was here with her. He was with her, this woman who had bewitched him without even realizing it. She was in his bed, writhing from his touch and her need and the rest of the world was a dim pinprick far, far away from this bed, from this moment in time. His mouth descended to hers as he finally entered her in a slow, torturous pace. Dara let out a cry of relief, of ecstasy, of undistorted joy and her body shuddered and tears pricked Sonny’s eyes as his hands joined with hers.
He could fuck women, this he knew. He could make them scream and beg and cry out his name.
But this?
This was different.
With every thrust, Dara’s walls cleched down on Sonny and he hissed, burrowing himself deeper and deeper as they rocked together.
Dara opened her eyes as she and Sonny moved together, the urgency of their pace growing, the whimpers from the base of her throat growing more insistent. Her eyes fixed on his and she noticed they were wet. Her fingers reached up, transfixed and she brushed them away from his dark pools.
Sonny shook his head as sweat dripped from his body down to hers. “I’m not sad,” he replied fiercely to her tender gesture and the unspoken question that came with it.
He wasn’t.
He knew the depths of sadness, the dark wells of feeling trapped by those negative emotions that swirled at the edges of his consciousness every day.
This wasn’t sadness. Not in any way shape or form.
This was joy.
The first crest hit her and she gasped, her breath escaping her in a hurried wail. He plunged into her and like a starburst; he joined her in his own wave of rapture.
Again and again, they were struck with shockwaves that seemed to never let up. Only when they were exhausted, curled together on the sweat soaked coverlets of Sonny’s bed, did they seem to come down.
Dara didn’t look at Sonny as he laid next to her, molding himself to her frame, his breath heavy as it tickled her neck. Her body hummed, her heart pounded and she bit her lip when she felt Sonny’s hand drape across her flat abdomen possessively.
One thing was certain.
She wasn’t sated.
She wasn’t full.
She wasn’t done.
She wasn’t ready to move on.
Without even looking at him, she knew one thing about him.
He felt the same way.
“So.” Her voice filled the faintly lit room and Sonny shifted his head. “So?” he asked.
Dara extracted herself from his grasp, relishing the way his fingers lingered on her skin. Sonny’s face stilled. She wasn’t leaving already was she?
Instead, he watched as she walked, no sauntered across the room and out the bedroom door, her lovely, curvy frame disappearing from view without a word. He sat up on his elbows, gazing intensely at the doorway, hearing the sounds of glass clinking around. She wasn’t leaving, he deduced with a relief. She was getting a drink.
She returned moments later, carrying a small glass of ice. Sonny sucked in his breath as he took in the sight of her completely nude, her willowy, cocoa colored skin glimmering against the backdrop of dim light.
She was more than beautiful. More than breathtaking.
Dara had a look on her face he’d never seen before as she sat bedside next to him, setting the glass down on the bedside table.
“So,” she said again, her voice soft. “That was nice.”
Sonny blanched; his brows instantly up in surprise. “Nice?” he blurted in disbelief. No woman had ever told him he was nice in bed.
Dara arched a brow of her own. “It was also fast. We were rushing.”
Again, he stared at her, this time with a tinge of hurt to his expression. Dara let out a gentle laugh as she placed her hand on his chest. “Don’t tell me that was you at your best?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye.
Sonny let out a breath, feeling a bit of the fight leave him. Still, his eyes were cagey and cautious. “Is that what you wanted?”
Dara heard the challenge in his voice and her hand moved down the length of his body to the head of his thighs, where she took his softened member in her hand. Sonny’s breath hitched in his throat and he rose up to bring her body closer, to feel the softness of her skin. Her other hand reached across and pressed him back down. He remained propped on his elbows and let out a soft grunt of approval as she began to move her hand up and down the length of his shaft in slow, lazy motions.
“Back then? Before?” Dara shook her head, her bob of hair swishing gently against her face. “I just wanted you. I just wanted everything all at once,” she said, her voice a low purr as she applied more pressure to her movements. Sonny let out another groan, closing his eyes as he felt his body rev up once more.
“And now?” he gritted out, lying back against the pillows, taking her hand from his chest to twine with his fingers. He clutched them tightly as his hips began to move. Dara licked her lower lip, her own center ratcheting with heat as she watched Sonny’s face whir with growing desire. His free hand fisted the sheet and he let out a hiss as his shaft, now fully aroused, began to seek more than just the pleasure of Dara’s hand.
“Jesus Fucking Christ,” he snarled, his nerve endings, raw and inflamed. Hell, his whole being was inflamed.
This was her power. This was the power she had over him. And all he could do was demand more. Mercy was for fools.
Dara’s voice tore through his lust. “Now I want the best.”
It was a demand, a challenge and a lust filled growl all at once. She removed her hand and with the nimbleness of a cat, slid her body over his, biting her lip as his hands immediately clamped onto her already slick hips. Sheathing him within her sizzling walls, she titled her head back and let out an appreciative moan. Sonny rose up, snaking his arm around the small of her back, pulling her tightly towards him. He felt the swell of her breasts against him, her pebbles rub flush to his skin and it took all his self-control not to drill into Dara right then and there.
Instead, he took a deep breath and issued her a piercing look, his endless midnight eyes boring into hers, the sweat on his skin pooling with hers. Her arms wound around his neck, as if readying for a response she already knew he was going to say.
So he said it.
“You want the best?”
Her mouth descended to his, nipping his lower lip, before pulling away. “Damn right I do.”
“No. Fucking. Problem.”
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