Page 41 of Rescuing Sophia

“Behave, you can punish me for saying no later, but I want to try this dish.” Sophia turns in my arms, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I freeze. We haven’t incorporated punishments into our dynamic yet. The possibilities send a thrill down my spine, but she worries me. I tread exceptionally carefully in my role, navigating my way through the trauma of her past, looking for any landmines I might inadvertently set off.

I cock my head, studying her face. I take all my cues from her. She may be sublimely submissive, but she’s still in recovery following her trauma. As far as I’m concerned, she takes the lead in defining the limits of our budding dynamic.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Punishments, huh? That could be... interesting.” I test the waters, watching her closely.

“I thought you might like that.” She blushes, the pink in her cheeks rivaling the sauce on the chicken.

That blush is my green light, but if her face ever pales, that’s my stop sign.

“Oh, I do.” I lean in, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I like it very much.”

“Hand only. No…” The timer dings again, saving us from the growing tension, but the color just drained from her face.

Sophia rises on her tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. The taste of her, mixed with a hint of tomato sauce, makes me hunger for more.

“Can you set the table while I rescue dinner?”

While she takes care of dinner, I process what I witnessed. Punishments may be on her list, but I take them off mine… for now.

“I love my kinky girl.” I step back, watching as she bends to pulla slightly charred chicken parmesan from the oven. The sight of her, flushed from cooking and our flirting, stirs something primal inside me.

“Hush, you. Less talking, more table setting.” She throws a playful glare over her shoulder.

Grinning, I grab plates from the cupboard. The ceramic is cool against my heated skin.

“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am.”

“‘Ma’am’? Why are you calling me ma’am?” Sophia’s brow furrows in confusion.

“Fair’s fair, don’t you think?” I chuckle, setting the plates down on the counter.

“Huh?” She tilts her head, still not understanding.

“It only seems fair, considering you’ll call me ‘sir’ when dinner’s done.” I step closer, nuzzling her neck. My breath is hot against her skin.

Sophia squirms at my words, her breath catching. She turns in my arms, looping hers around my neck and pressing tight against me.

“I look forward to it.” Her voice turns husky. “But the ma’am thing makes me feel old.”

“Christ, Sophia. You’re killing me.” I take a step back, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. I adjust my stance, acutely aware of how hard and aching I’ve become. “Now I’m hard.”

“You’re always hard around me. Completely insatiable.” She cuts me off with a playful shove, pushing me toward the dining area. “But later, big guy. It’s food time now. Playtime later.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief and promise.

I groan dramatically but comply, heading back to finish setting the table.

As I set the table, stealing glances at Sophia bustling around the kitchen, I’m struck by how far we’ve come in such a short time.

As for dinner, the burnt edges of the chicken add a smoky flavor that works. I make a show of savoring each bite, delighting in Sophia’s proud smile.

“This is delicious, babe. You’re getting better every day.”

“Thanks. I’ve been practicing.” She preens under the praise, her fork scraping against the plate as she takes another bite.

“I’m proud of you.” I reach across the table and take her hand. Her skin is soft against my calloused palm.

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