He undid all the restraints on his body and threw them under the bed, folding Sophia's legs and pushing them up to her chest with what looked like a capital M. The entrance to the deepest and most enticing peach was right in the very centre of it all, with a wet glossy sheen of water, and what seemed to be a slight hint of heat between the opening and closing.
He pushed his aeon in fully in one go, and what looked like wet, soft, pink flesh and blood wrapped around him completely with incredible force, Capone adjusting his breathing before slowly sinking in, and then sinking in again, and then rhythmically swinging his waist and belly as he gradually crashed into the music that belonged to this night today.
This posture makes the most intimate position completely presented in front of Capone's eyes, visual and tactile double stimulation, coupled with Sophia's babbling and petulant voice, his speed and power are more than ever, and he hates to be able to dismantle her whole person, to see whether she is really as people say is ice and snow for the muscle and jade for the bone, and encountered his hot burning only gradually melted into water, so that he is so comfortable, so comfortable, so comfortable. So can not let go of her!
He went to kiss her lips again, no longer let her speak, biting her tongue playfully, one hand is still in her body under the rampage, a line of tiny pearl has swollen up, his fingertips on the thin callus rubbing, exceptionally provocative.
'Mmm ah ...' Sophia's voice are shouting changed tone, hands do not know how to put good, up high stretch on the sides of the top of the head seems to be more comfortable, but then the whole body is completely blossomed and open posture, she can see her own slightly uplifted waist and She could see her waist slightly erect and her breasts delicately entangled, as if she had sent everything openly in front of Capone, there was no sense of security, and she herself also felt ashamed of plastic.
But put her hands down and she unconsciously touched her bent knees, like the position she held herself in when she was helpless, but more like an invitation to more penetration, and even when his hands no longer pushed up and folded her legs as hard, she was still able to keep them that way.
'Comfortable?' Capone could see her deliberate repression and let go of her lips to tease her, 'Will it still feel like I'm disrespecting you, hmm? Why don't you just be more enthusiastic, scream louder, spread your legs a little more to make me feel better, hmm?'
Sophia watered, shaking her head desperately trying to ignore the cumulative pleasure, 'That's not the same thing at all! Fade.'
'How is it not the same thing? Will your body ever be this passionate about another man? I'm disrespecting you if I don't allow you to think about them, have you ever respected me?'
The one who gave her pleasure, who gave her hugs and warmth, who shared his bed at night until dawn was clearly him, so why did she always still think about those who were not related to her!
A man is respected by his beloved woman, one is in front of outsiders, the second is between the bed, he always face her tide of love, but she wandered out of the sky thinking about other men, and how to talk about respect?
'Lighter, lighter ...' Sophia was dazed by his force, and her hand was placed at the belly at an unknown time, like an instinctive care.
Both she and he were too ignorant to see that there had been certain subtle changes behind the pleasure.Sophia only felt that from time to time he pushed against the deepest pistil heart, a tingling sensation that made one shudder but also a little panicked, and could only ask him to slow down his force.
'Uncomfortable?' Capone saw that the corners of her eyes were wet, as if she had shed tears out, and any amount of resentment subsided for the most part, slowing his movements and leaning down to kiss her eyelids, asking worriedly, 'It hurts? Why are you crying?'
Sophia opened her misty eyes, a layer of crystal water mist, when she was aggrieved, she always looked at Capone in this way, he had no temper at all.
Perhaps there truly is a rule in this world where one thing overcomes another!
Capone reined himself in, patiently coaxing her to loosen up bit by bit. But the peak was right before him, and no matter how much he tried to hold back, he couldn't slow down much. He was also afraid that Sophia might really be in pain, so he placed a large hand on her hand, gently rubbing her abdomen. He regretted how intense their moments had been lately, wondering if he had hurt her.
But Sophia cried even harder, using both her hands to pound on his shoulders and back, saying, "It's your fault that I'm in pain, it's you! You do whatever you want… you don't listen to anything I say! But I remember everything you say… I even remember what others say about you. You still say I don't respect you! I've never been close to another man, and you always say such harsh things, you never believe me… Wuuu…"
Hearing her accusations, Capone felt as if his heart were trapped in her sea of tears, salty and damp, but with a touch of sweetness, too. He hugged her tightly, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing her ear and cheek, awkwardly whispering sweet words, "Alright, don't cry. I never truly stopped trusting you! Be good, don't talk anymore… relax, follow me, I'm almost there…"
"You just know how to bully me, go outside, don't do this inside, go outside!"
Sophia continued to hit him, but at that moment, how could he possibly pull away? The warmth was at its most intense, like the midday sun in winter. He threw himself into it, his pores opening up, just waiting for that final release.
"Mmm… Capone…" Before she could call him a jerk three times, Sophia whimpered, trembling from the heat, her waist lifting slightly off the bed, creating a small arch, her pale skin tinged with a faint pink.
Capone became even more excited when he heard her calling his name. The pleasure was prolonged, and a deep, satisfied growl rumbled in his throat. He lay on top of her, staring at her for a long while.
Her face was as beautiful as if it had been brushed with rouge, glowing with health. Their hands were still intertwined on her abdomen, wet with sweat, it was hard to tell whose it was—his or hers.
"Our baby is going to be so beautiful!" His voice was low and slow, filled with the satisfaction that followed ultimate pleasure. Sweat still clung to his forehead and chest, unable to be wiped away as he focused on admiring Sophia's delicate beauty.
With such a beautiful mother, if they had a daughter, she would surely be a beauty as well.
Sophia slowly came down from her high, still sobbing a little. She turned her head away, as if gathering the strength to look at him again. "Having a child is fine, but you have to promise me something!"
"You say it."
"Don't hurt anyone for revenge anymore. Let Cronus go!"
Capone felt that his eyes must have been terribly red. When he woke up in the morning, they were bloodshot, and by now, they probably hadn't improved much.
He was a bit tired and pressed his fingers lightly against the bridge of his nose. Joey had teased him about it at the office, hinting that he'd been overindulging. Capone immediately turned and asked his secretary to make him a cup of black coffee to wake him up.
He sighed inwardly. He hadn't been overindulging, but his worries were indeed related to Sophia Diaz.
She seemed to always see through him—knowing that he lived for revenge and that he had no intention of letting Cronus go.
A brother he once trusted with his life—once that person handed over their shares and board seat, they would disappear from this world completely.
Of course, maybe that person had never truly considered him a brother, never truly shared a bond with him.
She wanted him to let go of Cronus. But back then, who let him go?
He wasn't unaware of the saying "an eye for an eye" and understood its meaning, but their world was like this—filled with both favors and grudges. Often, it was these very things that fueled the drive to continue living.
"You've already shot him once, isn't that enough? Back then it was for self-defense; you had no choice. But since he was lucky enough to survive, and no longer has the power to threaten you, why not just let it go? Isn't that one shot enough for revenge?"
That little woman even counted the shot Diana fired at Cronus as his responsibility. Well, she probably didn't remember the details of that day—didn't remember how he nearly died from his injuries, or that it wasn't him who brought Cronus down.
Why must he let go of these grudges? Why couldn't it be simpler? Why couldn't she just stay by his side, wholeheartedly be his woman, and bear his children?
"I don't want our child to face such a complicated life from the moment they're born. I don't want to always be living in fear..."
She lowered her head and murmured. Capone understood—she was afraid that this vicious cycle would eventually take his life, leaving her and their child helpless and alone.
Marvin had told him that bringing a new life into this world required blessings and good deeds. Even someone as brutal as his father Henry had been more lenient in the months before Capone's birth—no killing, no bloodshed.