Page 43 of Rescuing Sophia

“What punishment? I didn’t do anything wrong.” Sophia’s eyes widen, and a hint of sass enters her voice.

“Well, you did leave me hard and aching. I think that deserves some... correction, don’t you?” I cock an eyebrow, glancing pointedly down at my obvious arousal, then back up to meet her gaze.

We both pause, the air between us electric. Sophia’s lips curl into a smirk, her eyes darkening with desire. The shift is palpable as she slips into her submissive role.

“Yes, Sir,” she purrs, her voice low and sultry. “How would you like me to make amends?”

“Oh, I have a few ideas…” The sudden switch in her demeanor sends a jolt of arousal through me.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Punishments can be fun, but I have no intention of using my hand on her… ever.

I have better things in mind—like a night of delicious torment.

The world fades away. The apartment becomes our private paradise with its lingering warmth from the oven and the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains.

THIRTEEN

Blake

The next morning,I prop myself up on one elbow, admiring the way the morning light plays against Sophia’s face. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine.

“Morning, beautiful,” I murmur, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

Sophia stretches, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

“Morning,” she replies, her voice still husky with sleep.

As we go through our morning routine, the scent of fresh coffee fills the apartment. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close. Sophia leans into me, her body warm against mine.

We finish getting ready, and I take her hand in mine as we leave the apartment. The woman beside me, confident and smiling, is a far cry from the broken soul I first met.

“Let me walk you to work?”

“My knight in shining armor.” She laughs, and the sound is light and carefree.

As we approach Jenna’s café, the rhythmic pounding of hammers, the whine of power tools, and the shouts of workers create a cacophony of activity. The scent of fresh-cut wood mingles with the aroma of paint and coffee.

Jenna stands in the middle of it all, a bright yellow hard hat perched on her head, clipboard in hand. She directs workers with the precision of a seasoned general, her voice carrying over the din.

“No, no, the espresso machine goes there,” she points emphatically. “We need to maximize counter space.”

Sophia squeezes my hand, nerves and excitement radiating from her. I give her a reassuring smile and wrap my arm around her shoulders.

Jenna spots us, her face lighting up. “Blake, you’re here.” She navigates through the chaos to meet us, narrowly avoiding a worker carrying a large piece of drywall.

“Malia’s around here somewhere. My partner in caffeinated crime. I want you to meet her.”

“You must be Blake.” A petite woman with warm brown skin and a mass of curly hair approaches, her smile wide and welcoming. “Jenna’s told me all about you.”

“All good things, I hope?” I take her hand, returning the smile.

“The good, the bad, and the ugly. Sophia just can’t stop talking about you.”

“At least her coffee is getting better.” I can’t help myself and huff when Sophia smacks me in the gut.

“You deserve that.” Sophia gives me a look. “It’s not that bad.”

“It really wasthatbad.” I turn to Malia and press my hands together, begging. “Thank you for teaching the woman how to brew coffee.”

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