The Shade's Of You. | ✓

19

Sophia.

The first thought that fluttered through my mind was about the sun, where the hell was it? I expected the sun to wake me up in the early hours.

Instead my face is pressed against something warm and hard, a light thumping sound resonates from it and instantly I know that I'm curled against the man I love with his arms tightly and protectively wrapped around me and our legs tangled between each other— it's almost like we're molded together and on the inside, I feel that way and many other ways towards the sleeping man against me.

Kings breathing is light and steady, it's easy to tell his still fast asleep, and his face is snuggled into my hair.

I slowly lift my head up, trying my hardest not to wake him up yet and I succeed, internally jumping up and down.

I peek over his shoulder and squint in confusion at the room we're in and try to think of us moving in here last night but nothing seems to ring a bell— making me glance over to my sleeping man with a smile on my face, I softly and carefully caress his puffed out cheek.

Last night was perfect.

And the soft throbbing and aching between my thighs when I moved has me all flustered again as last nights images flutter through my mind on repeat, reminding me of our love making rendezvous behind this very villa.

My god.

I look back at King and bite on my lip, god this man really is a beast isn't he? His stigma for sex is sooo high.

We have sex three times throughout last night and the morning and still, it remained beautiful and pleasuring. I was and still am awed at how will Percy knows how to pleasure a woman during sex and after, before too.

The voice at the back of my mind takes advantage of the situation, it's from his obvious experience in woman. And I ignore it because nothing can sour my mood today.

I shift back down and cuddle further into him, almost squeezing his torso in a firm and tight bear hug but I didn't care. I wanted to enjoy him like this for as long as I could.

Last night I had told him about my father, the only person I had the guts to tell the brutally honest truth to was him— I had told him about the beatings and the cursing and the continuous alcohol and the woman. I had said his name as well, the name my aunt seems to be dropping recently, Dunley Parkeswood, is my long lost fathers name.

And for a long, long time I've been too scared and embarrassed to tell people the truth about him, that he left us behind, he left his family behind for a bigger and better life, and never once did he phone or try seeing us.

Not once. . .

Until recently that is.

Roxanne had been trying to get my dead mother to speak to my very much alive father, the reason she killed herself.

Roxanne didn't get it and she never will.

We both were young when it happened, yes.

But she wasn't there, I was there. I saw everything.

I heard everything and that was enough.

My parents were high-school sweethearts and their love had been so great, mum would always tell me stories about it when I was younger and they had stuck with me.

Dad was this hotshot jock who everyone cooed over and loved but his eyes were always planted on mum.

Marietta Rose and Dunley Parkeswood.