Taking her hand in mine, I lift her to her feet. Her mouth is swollen and pink, her lips full. I kiss her lightly. "Stay right here."
I cross the room and retrieve the gift bag from the top of my bureau. I remove the small bottle of oil from the bag and Sophie’s eyes zero in on it, and then dart down to my still eager erection and she swallows roughly. Her entire body stiffens. She looks terrified. What the hell?
"Everything okay?" I don’t understand her reaction.
I look down at the bottle of oil I bought earlier and realize she must think its lubricant. As if I’d just roughly lube up my dick and push into her before she was ready. My gut drops to the floor. I feel like a grade-A asshole. The last thing I want her to feel is fear. "It’s massage oil." I lift the bottle to show her. "We’re not fucking tonight, sweetness."
Her relief is instant. She draws a deep shuddering breath and her shoulders sag.
How in the fuck had I ever thought I could go through with this? The idea of forcing her into having sex with me is deplorable. Christ what was wrong with me? But this was exactly why I hadn’t wanted a virgin. I’d wanted a girl who was down to fuck – not some terrified young thing I’d have to treat with kid gloves.
Drawing a deep breath of oxygen into my lungs, I push away any and all erotic thoughts of taking her and pull on my boxer briefs. I won’t touch her until I know it’s what she wants. But I don’t think I can go without her hot mouth around my dick. Now that I know she’s okay sucking cock and how well she excels at it – there’s no way I’m giving that up. I’m not that fucking generous. I have needs and I’ve paid royally to have them serviced.
"Lay down on your stomach." I point to the chaise lounge chair. She may not be ready for me to touch her sexually, but I plan to return the physical pleasure she’s given me in another way.
She lays down right in the center, and I lift her body to the side, making room so I can sit beside her. She turns her head to the side so she can glance up at me, curious about what I’m going to do.
Pouring some of the oil into my hand, I rub my hands together to warm it before applying it to Sophie’s back. Her skin is soft, but her muscles are tense. Which is exactly why I need to start off my physical contact with her slowly and let her get accustomed to me touching her body.
She feels small and delicate under my hands. I rub the oil into her skin, sinking my fingers into her flesh and rubbing out the knots in between her shoulder blades. Sophie releases a soft grunt when I apply more pressure. "Is this okay?" My voice comes out huskier than I intend.
"Yeah," she breathes.
I run my fingers down the slope of her spine, admiring the twin dimples in her lower back just above her firm round ass.
"Colton…" she breathes, her mouth curling up in a happy little smile.
Marta must have told her my name. I like the sound of it on her lips.
After rubbing out all the knots, I lightly massage her neck, digging my fingers into her scalp. She was tense when I first began, but now her body is limp and relaxed for me. "Does this feel good?"
"Mmmm," she moans. The sound goes straight to my ever present erection, and the beast flexes in my boxers, as if to remind me it’s still there. It seems he’s going to be a permanent fixture when Sophie’s around.
Looking down at her creamy bare skin and knowing she’s topless makes it hard to concentrate, but I do my best at rubbing her back, working my way down her spine until I’m massaging her lower back. The breathy noises she makes are distracting as fuck and the tiny shorts she’s wearing taunt me. I want to turn her over and push my fingers inside her, feel how tight and warm she is. Of course I can’t. Yet. If I win her trust first, the sex will be that much better. At least that’s what I tell myself.
Chapter Eight
Sophie
When I crawl into bed beside Colton that night, I feel boneless and relaxed. It never occurred to me that two days into my new living situation I’d still be a virgin, have an entire wardrobe full of new clothes and be at the receiving end of the best massage I’ve ever had in my life.
I slip under the sheets, thankful they’re cool against my overheated skin. Pleasuring him like that – feeling his taut muscles under my fingertips, inhaling his musky scent, watching him come apart –I can’t deny it’s a turn-on. He’s so in control, so masculine, it’s a potent combination – one that my own libido stands up and takes notice of.
Colton reaches over and with one hand, drags me closer, just like he did the night before, spooning his big, firm body around mine. I feel him release a sigh against my ear. "Night, sweetness," he murmurs, sounding half-asleep.
I know it’s totally strange and I shouldn’t let my guard down so quickly or easily, but I trust him. I just do. Maybe it’s the way he looks at me, or maybe it’s because he hasn’t taken anything that isn’t his to take, but regardless, a little sense of ease has wormed its way into my head, allowing me to relax in his presence. Maybe it’s because I know things could have turned out so much worse. God, part of me still can’t believe I’d gone through with that auction. I knew it was crazy, but exchanging six months of my life to give Becca a shot at the life she deserves made it a no-brainer. It’d be stupid not to do this. And honestly, I’d never been one of those girls who held onto her virginity out of principle. I just hadn’t had a serious boyfriend with all the turmoil of my family life and I wasn’t going to just give it to anyone. I guess it turned out for the best – now that man would be Colton, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, he was freaking gorgeous, and I was helping my sister in the process.
I’m just about to fall asleep, feeling at peace with my decision, when a sudden thought jars me from my peaceful reverie. What if all this…the kindness, the no-sex thing, maybe he’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security, to get me to trust him so I submit to him completely. The mystery of his past is still bugging me too. There’s Marta and Stella, both of whom I want to understand his relationship with.
And it’s not like he’s a saint – I’ve pleasured him twice at his command, dropping to my knees to suck him off. God, he’s no prince charming. Get a grip, Sophie. I will need to stay on my guard a bit more after all.
Realizing all of this while laying snuggly in his arms, I distance myself the tiniest bit, fluffing the pillow under my head to get more comfortable. I take a deep breath, feeling calmer and more in control almost immediately. I won’t let myself get so sucked into his world I can’t see straight. I may have sold my body as a sex slave, but my heart, my mind, my spirit are all still mine. I still want to be Sophie when this is all said and done. If I’m to survive my six months with him, I need to remember I’m playing a role – living out a very expensive fantasy he’s created – nothing more. Ignoring the ache pleasuring him created between my thighs, I close my eyes and try to relax.
My body’s natural physical reaction and my growing attraction to him causes my blood to pound in my ears. It’s not something I can control, which both excites and confuses me. Perhaps it’s my limited experience, but my body’s sexual response to his nearness is unexpected and frustrating – especially because he seems in no rush to do anything about it. Sharing his bed, being the one to pleasure him makes me want to discover my own body’s pleasure. But for now, I clamp my thighs tightly together and pray for sleep to take me.
Colton
I shouldn’t have forced Sophie to her knees last night. For all the pleasure I derived, it’s been overshadowed by guilt, which ratchets up with each passing hour. I feel like a fucking schmuck.
When she cowered away from my touch last night, it put everything into perspective. I don’t do regrets or self-loathing, so needless to say I’m distracted and edgy all day long. I bark orders to my assistant, I’m short with clients and skip several of my meetings. All due to my shitty mood. The strange thing is, I don’t regret buying her. That fuckwad at the auction would have taken her home if I hadn’t. And I don’t even want to know the sick things that bastard had planned. I’d overheard him bragging before the auction began about his playroom – complete with whips, restraints and canes. A girl as soft and pure as Sophie wouldn’t have lasted the night in his company. At least there’s solace in knowing I haven’t ruined her. Yet.
As I cruise up the hilly road toward my private drive, I glance out at the sun sinking into the Pacific Ocean. It’s a view I’ll never tire of, even if this house is tainted with memories of the biggest mistake of my adult life. Stella.
Just thinking of her puts a bad taste in my mouth and I force my thoughts to return to my situation with Sophie. Watching the last sliver of orange dip below the horizon, I vow to exercise more self-control. Just because I’ve bought her doesn’t mean I need to violate her with every passing thought. Christ. I wince realizing that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.