Sophie (The Boss 8)

“Of course not.”

“And when someone has a second child, are they throwing the first one away? Do they care about them less? What about a third child? You have three siblings. Do you think your mother loved any of you less due to the presence of the others?”

“I understand, Sophie.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “And you’re right. There are times when I’m with Rashida, and I think to myself, ‘things feel right again.’ After Emma died, I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“You were a father for over half your life,” I said softly.

“Exactly. And then I was a father with no child. I couldn’t talk about her anymore to people who hadn’t known her because inevitably I would have to explain that she’s…” He swallowed and cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m even hesitant to mention Olivia because the only reason she lives with us is due to her parents’ death. And once you tell someone, the conversation changes.”

I sat silent, too stunned to come up with anything comforting to say. His grief hadn’t been just for Emma, but for a part of himself, also.

“As you said, I was a father for over half of my life,” he continued. “I feel like myself again. And yes, a part of that feels like moving on from Emma. I’ll get over that. Through therapy,” he added pointedly.

“Good idea.” I took a moment to organize my thoughts. “I thought you were pushing me away.”

“Oh, my darling, never.” He took my hand and kissed it, then held it close to his chest. “What did I do to make you feel that way?”

“It wasn’t just you.” Now it was my turn for uncomfortable eye contact avoidance. “You and El-Mudad both had kids, you both wanted kids… Even though you both tell me otherwise, my brain likes to sabotage me with doubts. I keep thinking, do they resent me for not being on board the mom train? Am I taking something from them? And where do I fit in when you both have this huge chunk of your life in common?”

Neil stroked his thumb over the back of my fingers. “Never doubt my love for you.”

“Thanks.” I leaned down and rested my forehead against his. “There’s no way I can obey that command, though.”

He studied my face for a moment, then reached up to cup the back of my head, threading his fingers through my hair and tightening to tug just a little on my scalp. “What if your Sir commanded it?”

“I would have to do it, then,” I whispered, my gaze falling to his mouth.

He jerked me down and kissed me hard, stroking his tongue against mine. When both of us had been without oxygen for far too long, he pulled me back roughly by the hair. “Sophie, if you ever doubt that you are loved by the men sharing your life, you will be punished.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now, take off your clothes.”

I snorted. “Oh, we’re doing this now?”

“We are. And I won’t tolerate disobedience tonight.” He leaned back in the chair to watch me.

Despite the lack of sleep, a full day of travel, and emotionally draining family business, my body snapped to attention at his words. I stood on shaking legs, my sex already throbbing as I positioned myself in front of him. “Slowly, Sir?”

“Not too slowly, but don’t rush.” He reached for his zipper and pulled it down.

I pulled my shirt over my head, my nipples beading from the tension as much as the generous air conditioning. Neil untucked the tails of his shirt from his pants and let his half-hard cock slap against his stomach. I licked my bottom lip as he glided his hand up and down his shaft.

Not rushing was difficult when I felt so longing and empty. Watching him roll his foreskin back and forth over the tip of his length brought to mind every time he’d stretched my pussy wide, rammed deep, filled me up.

I whimpered. If he’d permitted me to look at his face, I knew I would have seen gratification there at the sound.

I eased my skirt down my hips, then hooked my thumb into my lacy white boy shorts to take them off, too. Baring my pussy transformed the air around me into a veil of cold silk. Being exposed was a powerful aphrodisiac.

“Are you wet, Sophie?” he asked as I removed my bra.

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered, shifting my feet to feel the slide of my labia against each other. It didn’t offer any release or ease my longing.

“Show me.”

“How, Sir?” I didn’t want to make any assumptions.

“Use your fingers.” He paused. “Look into my eyes while you do it.”

I lifted my gaze to meet his. There were times when Neil’s green-gold eyes were so warm and loving that he broke my heart just by looking at me. But my Sir, oh, he only ever looked like he wanted to wring as much pleasure, pain, and humiliation from me as he could. Now was no different. Though he glanced down as my hand moved to my vulva, he didn’t linger there. Just a brief check to make sure I still obeyed him as I slicked my fingers back and forth in my cleft.