Chapter 5. Two Rings

Sophia’s POV

He breaks our kiss, hands going still on my thighs. 

I lock gaze with him, seeing how dark and dilated his pupils have turned. 

He’s panting just as I am, looking unusually unsettled. His face is frozen—an expression of shock I don’t miss. My body trembles, but I shake my head weakly, letting him know I can’t go further than kissing. 

He withdraws his hands quickly. 

“I don’t…” I start to say, but as my arms go around his neck, he grips my waist, lifting me. His lips press against the soft swell of my chest. My heart kicks hard, my words melting into an inhale. I coil in pleasure, releasing a deep breath as my head drops.

“You’re a fantastic kisser,” he murmurs, his hands unsteady on my waist.

The compliment sends a curl up my stomach. But it’s the kisses he keeps pressing that steal my brain cells. They’re soft, intentional—like he’s memorizing the shape of me.

“A-alexander…” My voice is barely mine, thin and trembling.

His grip at my waist firms, his breathing settles, and he gently sets me back in his lap. 

“Let’s take our time getting used to each other,” he says as he pulls me close into his warmth, his voice deep and uneven.

My eyes stay closed, my chest pounds against his. Strength eludes me.

“You good?” He questions while stroking my back with gentleness. 

But my head is blank. I drag in his scent, letting it permeate my senses. 

Minutes pass. And by the time the adrenaline fades, I’m still in Alexander Thorne’s arms, on his lap, in his penthouse. The realization that I’ve just kissed the man who’s been passing through my mind from January up until last week starts to sink in. It’s heart-fluttering.

I’ve never been kissed so recklessly. So beautifully.

He remains calm, still stroking my back. His breath moves softly against my hair.

My mind drifts to my parents, and guilt settles in my chest, squeezing. If they were to find out what I’ve just done, my punishment would be worse than getting grounded for weeks.

But it’s been almost eight long months. 

Since I got back from London last month, July, I’ve been hoping to run into him at least once and have been looking forward to next week when I will see him again, unfailingly. 

With warm cheeks, I fold my lips and shift in his embrace. And there it is again—sharp. Firm.

His chest jerks. A controlled, involuntary twitch.

I slowly peel myself off him.

“What is it?” he asks, calm as ever.

I just stare, unable to utter what I felt.

“Do you find them uncomfortable?”

Them?

I search his eyes. “W-what’s that?” 

“What’s what?” A teasing smirk curves on his lips, left brow lifted.

“On your…” 

The words die in my throat.

He raises his brow higher, waiting, knowing.

Then, “What do they feel like?” His hands slide to the small of my back in slow gentleness.

My face flames.

And he lets out a soft chuckle. “You know what they are, Soph. That’s why you’re turning all red.”

I drop my gaze because he’s staring too intensely. But then I see it—the faint raised outlines under his shirt. Impossible to unsee.

“They’re my nipple rings.”

My breath fractures. My eyes lock on his chest, refusing to move.

Silence. Thick and stuffy.

Suddenly, the bell chimes. 

But I’m paralyzed in place, glued to him, eyes fastened where metal should not be. Outlines I didn’t notice earlier. Outlines I couldn’t possibly have noticed, because he’s a man I’ve only ever seen in suits, looking all polished. 

“That must be Garvey with your clothes and dinner,” he murmurs.

His nipples are pierced? And my boobs kept brushing against them.

My imagination goes feral. My heart trembles with brand-new fear at this edgy personality of his. I would never have thought.

“Your father is calling, Sophia.”

But all I hear is: Nipple rings. Danger. And who have I just let kiss me?

“Sophia?” He calls.

I snap out of my daze. My eyes lift from his chest, away from those twin outlines. 

“Your father?”

“What?!” I jolt, already crawling off him. 

“Come here,” he growls softly, his arms winding around my waist to drag me back. 

I lose half a second of air as I’m forced back in his lap.

“Don’t go until I say so,” he says, tone hoarse, eyes darkening. 

My body stills. I stare, swallowing hard without knowing why.

“It’s just you and me here…” He takes my chin, teasing a sinful smile as he leans in. “Where are you running off to?”

I shut my eyes, coiling, only for him to kiss my nose. It tickles.

The bell rings again.

I open my eyes to see how calm he remains, holding his phone.

My father’s name floats on the screen. 

“Should I answer it? Your call.”

I stare at it until it stops ringing. The guilt in my chest knots tighter. My eyes shift to his; they’re filled with delicious rebellion.

The bell rings longer this time. 

And in a few seconds, the door clicks open and slams shut.

“Alexander, I should get up,” I murmur. I can’t let his chauffeur see me like this—in his boss’ lap, wearing his clothes, and probably looking disheveled. 

He releases his grip around me.

“Alex?!” A voice suddenly echoes. A familiar voice.

I wheeze, locking my eyes back with Alexander’s.

“Dimitri,” he voices my thought, eyes rounding for a second.

Oh my god!

I fly off him in a flash, staggering on the floor.

Why is Dimitri here?

“Alex? Where are you, man?” Dimitri yells, getting close.

I scramble to my feet, grabbing my slippers as I tremble.

“In there,” Alexander hisses, pointing to a dark space. 

I sprint on my tiptoes.

“Hey.”

I look over my shoulder just in time to see him throwing my purse. I catch it against my chest by pure reflex and keep running for my life and sanity.

My clothes! 

But it’s too late.

I glimpse Dimitri before I slip into the dark room.

My chest thuds rapidly as I lean against the wall. I press a hand over my mouth, stifling my quick breaths.

“I keep forgetting to change my passcode,” Alexander greets.

“Hey, man! Why didn’t you answer the door?”

It grows silent for a moment, then Dimitri speaks: “I’m interrupting something. Am I not?”

No response.

“I saw a pair of Manolo Blahnik heels at the door… are those her clothes?”

I palm my eyes, praying silently.

“You’re being nosy, man,” Alexander responds smoothly.

“Because you’ve never brought a woman into your penthouse.”

What?

“And it looks like you’ve been up to no good,” Dimitri adds.

“I’m always up to no good.”

I hear them slap their hands together.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I did. Texted. You were clearly occupied, getting all… Wow… is she someone we know? I’m so curious—”

“Don’t you have a wedding to plan, Dimitri?”

“You invited her into your fortress? God, Alex… this is - this is new. Is she in here somewhere?”

The bell chimes.

“Is that her?” Dimitri is unrelenting.

Feeling pathetic, my eyes roam in the dark, sweat prickling my skin. I listen to their slippers hitting the ground.

“That’s Garvey.”

“That means she’s here!”

“Why are you so nosy? You’re not drunk.” Alexander evades confirming anything.

“Being mysterious again, huh?” Dimitri murmurs. 

He says nothing.

I hear their retreating footsteps. Then Dimitri continues, “I’m marrying Lena next week—”

“For the THIRD time. Don’t tell me you’re nervous?”

“You swore never to get married, so you’ll never know how it feels…”

I slowly slide down the wall to crouch, releasing my mouth and a long breath. Their voices get muffled and fade.

Alexander swore never to get married? 

My heart races. 

Then, why the marriage arrangement with me?

I recall the call I had with Dimitri in January, after he sent me a cropped photo of Alexander and me from the party on New Year’s Eve.

He’d asked point-blank if something was going on between us. I’d said no. Next, he’d asked if I liked Alexander. Before I could even ask why, Dimitri’s voice turned serious.

“Alexander is not the type of man you’d want to be entangled with. Stay away from him, Sophia.”