No Turning Back

Sofia's POV

I thought I was tired.

I should have been tired.

But as I lay in the huge guest bed, staring up at the ceiling, all I could think about was him.

Leandro.

The man I had once looked at with fear and defiance… now he was the one I felt safest around. And that scared me. Not because I didn’t want it, but because I did. So much more than I ever expected.

The way he smiled tonight at the amusement park. The way he let his guard down. The way he looked at me like I was more than just someone who wandered into his club looking for a job.

I couldn’t shake it.

Everything between us had shifted. What started as chaos, him being this dangerous, unpredictable boss and me being the mouthy girl who talked back had turned into… whatever this was.

It was soft. And confusing. And it felt like my chest was too small for how full it had suddenly become.

I turned over for what must’ve been the tenth time, pulling the covers tighter over me. But nothing helped. The room was too cold, too quiet, too full of not him.

I rolled onto my side, hugging the stuffed bear he won for me, and sighed. I couldn't sleep like this. Not with all the heat swirling inside me. Not with all the questions I didn’t have answers to.

And then, like something outside of me was pulling the strings, I slipped out of bed.

I padded quietly down the hallway, heart thumping, eyes adjusting to the dim light. I didn’t even fully know what I was doing—just that I needed to see him.

I needed him.

I found his door and stood there like an idiot, hesitating.

Then I knocked softly.

A pause.

Then his voice came through the door, low and hoarse, still thick with sleep. “Why are you hovering like a thief? Come in.”

My cheeks flushed. I pushed the door open.

He was in bed, shirtless, the covers pooled at his waist. His hair was messy and his eyes were still half-lidded, but even half-asleep, he looked like something out of a dream.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up slightly, then patted the empty space next to him. “Come here.”

I didn’t hesitate.

I climbed in beside him, careful and quiet, like the moment might shatter if I made a sound. The bed was warm, and so was he. He slid an arm around me, pulling me close.

And I nestled into him, my back to his chest, his arm over my waist.

But it wasn’t enough.

I kept curling closer, pressing myself against him like I wanted to melt right into his skin. Like I wanted to feel every part of him, his warmth, his breath, his strength.

That husky voice came again, this time against my ear. “What do you want, Sofia?”

I didn’t answer.

I just turned to face him, slowly, my nose brushing his. Our eyes met, and the look in his made my heart stumble. Heat. Curiosity. A softness I’d never seen before.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t have to.

Our lips found each other’s, slowly at first, like we were testing the waters. Then hungrier. Desperate. Like we’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t anymore.

His hand found the side of my neck, pulling me deeper into the kiss.

I whimpered into his mouth as his fingers slid under my shirt, tracing my skin. When they reached the waistband of my shorts, he paused.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low but serious.

I met his gaze and whispered, “Yes.”

That was all he needed.

He slipped a finger beneath the fabric, finding me warm and ready. I gasped, eyes fluttering shut, and he kissed me again, deeper this time as if to quiet the sound.

Another sound escaped me, half gasp, half moan and he swallowed it with a kiss, his free hand gripping my thigh to steady me.

He touched me like he already knew what I liked. Slow, teasing strokes that had me breathing harder, arching toward him, wanting more. My skin felt too sensitive. My heart too full.

Everything in me tightened.... need, heat, emotion.

And when he finally moved over me, his body flush against mine, our clothes slowly falling away piece by piece, it felt like something shifted in the universe.

He pressed his forehead to mine. We looked into each other’s eyes as he eased into me.

I gasped, fingers clenching around his arms. He was gentle, letting me adjust to the feel of him. His eyes never left mine.

He moved with care, with intensity, as if every motion meant something.

And it did.

Every sound that left my lips, every time I whispered his name, every kiss that lingered longer than the one before, it was all more than just desire.

It was connection.

It was trust.

It was something raw and real growing between us, tangled up in heat and heartbeats and the soft sounds of two people falling into something neither of them expected.

When we both came undone, it wasn’t loud or wild.

It was quiet.

Deep.

A soft release of all the tension and longing we’d held in.

He kissed me again afterward, slower now, like he couldn’t get enough of me. His hand rubbed soft circles against my hip as I curled into him, my head tucked under his chin, breathing him in.

I felt full.

Not just of him, but of peace.

And maybe even love.

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead again.

And for the first time that night… sleep came easily.

Because I was wrapped in him.

And I didn’t want to be anywhere else.