4 Confusion in Two People

Leon didn't care. His hands began to move, gently but firmly squeezing Sonya's hips, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together. "Relax, Dad isn't home yet," he whispered, his lips moving to Sonya's neck, kissing and licking the soft skin there with slow movements, leaving wet marks that made Sonya shiver.

His hot breath touched Sonya's ear, "You like this too, don't you? You were acting so weird this morning." His hand moved up, squeezing Sonya's breast through her nightgown, his thumb rubbing her nipple slowly, building tension with circular movements that grew stronger.

Sonya let out a small sigh, her resistance weakening—her hands, which had been pushing him away, now only held Leon's shoulders, as if restraining herself from pulling him closer.

The foreplay continued for a long time, like a slow-burning fire. Leon pulled Sonya's dress down slightly, revealing her shoulders and upper chest.

His lips traced her shoulder, kissing it with a soft bite, his tongue licking her skin with long strokes, tasting the saltiness and warmth. "You're so beautiful, Sonya," he murmured, one hand slipping under her dress, stroking Sonya's smooth stomach, his fingers tickling the sensitive skin there before moving back up to her breasts, squeezing them deeper, making Sonya moan softly.

Sonya's body began to react—her breath quickened, her thighs rubbed together unconsciously, and for a moment, she returned Leon's kiss, her tongue moving hesitantly but passionately.

Leon grew bolder. He pushed Sonya onto the bed, his body gently on top of hers, his hands now creeping up her thighs, stroking the inside with trembling fingers, approaching her intimate area but not quite touching it, building anticipation.

His lips returned to Sonya's, the kiss growing fiercer, interspersed with licks on her neck and ears. Sonya writhed beneath him, her sighs growing more frequent, her body hot and wet. "Leon... this... we can't," she whispered weakly, but her hands instead embraced Leon's back, pulling him closer. They were almost carried away—Leon began to pull Sonya's dress higher, his hands almost reaching their goal, their lust peaking in the mingling of their breaths.

But suddenly, the sound of the front door was heard—the creak of the hinges and heavy footsteps. "Sonya? Leon? Dad's home!" Gito called from the front room, his voice tired but clear, accompanied by the sound of a bag being thrown onto the sofa.

Leon and Sonya gasped, their bodies frozen.

Sonya's face was pale, her eyes filled with panic. Leon hurriedly got up, straightening his clothes, while Sonya pulled her dress back into place.

"Get out quickly!" Sonya whispered loudly, pushing Leon towards the door.

Leon slipped out just in time, running slowly up the stairs to his room, his heart pounding. Downstairs, Gito was unaware of anything, not seeing Leon leave his room.

But the cracks in the house were deepening, and the secrets of that night hung like a time bomb.

***

That night, after Gito's voice echoed through the house and forced Leon to sneak back to his room, the big house fell silent again.

But behind the thick walls, a storm of emotions was raging.

Leon ran slowly up the stairs, his heart still pounding like a war drum. He closed his bedroom door carefully, not wanting to attract the attention of his father, who was now chatting casually with Sonya in the living room.

Leon's body felt hot, his breathing was ragged, but it wasn't because of running—it was because the image of Sonya wouldn't leave his mind. He threw himself onto his bed, staring at the dark ceiling, decorated with fake stars from his childhood stickers.

"My mind is a mess," Leon muttered to himself, his hands covering his eyes. Every time he tried to close his eyes, images of Sonya reappeared: her soft lips when he kissed her, the small moans that escaped her mouth, the warmth of her body that fit perfectly with his.

The night before, it had started as an evil plan to drive her away, a crazy idea from Andra. But now? It had turned into an obsession. "Why can't I stop thinking about her? She's my stepmother, damn it. This is a huge mistake." His mind spun like a broken wheel—one side hating himself for betraying the memory of his mother, Melinda, who had always been a sacred figure in this house.

"Mother would be disappointed if she knew," whispered his heart, making his chest tighten. But the darker side of him craved Sonya's touch again. Her age, only seven years older than him, made her feel like an ordinary woman, not a stepmother. "She responded, you know. She didn't really refuse. What does that mean?"

Leon got out of bed and paced around his small room. Moonlight seeped through the window, illuminating an old photo of him and his mother on the side table. He touched the photo, his fingers tracing Melinda's smiling face. "I'm sorry, Mum. I couldn't help myself. This house... should be ours, but now she's here."

But even now, his thoughts drifted back to Sonya: the faint scent of her vanilla perfume, the curve of her waist that fit perfectly in his hands, and her shy eyes that morning. "I have to stop. Tomorrow I'll avoid her. College, basketball, anything to forget."

But he knew it was a lie—every silent second made him more anxious. Was Sonya thinking the same thing? Would she tell her father? Or... did she feel the same tingling sensation? The thought made him restless, his body hot and cold. He finally lay down again, but sleep did not come—only blurry dreams of Sonya filled his night.

***

In another room, downstairs, Sonya sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling.

Gito was fast asleep beside her, his soft snoring filling the room, but Sonya couldn't sleep.

The dim light of the bedside lamp softened her features, but her eyes were full of anxiety.

After Leon slipped out and Gito came in, she pretended everything was normal—kissing her husband on the cheek, asking about his day, even laughing softly when Gito told her about his exhausting meeting.

But inside, her heart was like a stormy sea. "What's happening to me?" she whispered softly, so as not to wake Gito.

Her body still felt the lingering traces of Leon's touch: the heat of his lips on her neck, the pressure of his hands on her breasts, the sigh that had accidentally escaped her own lips. It made her feel ashamed, but also... aroused.

Sonya got up slowly and walked to the window overlooking the back garden.

The night breeze slipped through the curtains, causing her nightgown to sway gently. She hugged herself, trying to calm her racing breath. "I am Gito's wife. I must be faithful. But why... why did Leon's touch feel so different?" Her thoughts returned to her married life: Gito was a good man, rich, but his age of 49 made their relationship often mechanical—quick, without the long passion she craved.

Leon, with his youthful energy, had awakened something that had long been dormant. "Last night, I almost lost control. And last night again... my resistance was weak. Am I starting to like him?"

Guilt surged like a sharp knife—she remembered Melinda's face from the photos in the house, the woman Gito and Leon had once loved. "I can't ruin this family. But why do my thoughts keep returning to him? His lustful eyes, his strong hands... oh my God, Sonya, stop!"

She returned to bed, lying next to Gito but unable to sleep. Her thoughts swirled: this morning, at breakfast, she couldn't look at Leon because she was afraid her eyes would betray her feelings. "He's my stepson. This is forbidden. If Gito finds out... everything will be ruined."

But part of her was curious—was Leon thinking about her too right now? Was this just a game for him, or was there something deeper? The turmoil kept her restless all night, her body tossing and turning, her dreams filled with images of Leon approaching her, kissing her again, waking her up in a cold sweat.

***

The next morning, the turmoil remained. Leon came down to the kitchen with panda eyes, trying to avoid Sonya who was serving breakfast.

But he couldn't take his eyes off her—the movement of her hands as she poured coffee, the forced smile she gave Gito. "She looks tired too," thought Leon, making his heart even more troubled.

At college, the class felt like a fog—Andra asked if he was okay, but Leon just shook his head, his mind full of Sonya.

***

Meanwhile, Sonya was alone at home after Gito left, cleaning the kitchen with trembling hands, her thoughts returning to the touch of the previous night. "I have to talk to him. Stop this before it's too late," she muttered. But deep down, she knew: this turmoil was only the beginning.