Filthy Beautiful Lies(19)

 

I rise to my feet, needing to separate myself from his tempting body. "Flip over," I tell him. I didn’t get to rub his shoulders properly in that position. I straddle him once again – this time sitting across his thighs.

 

With Colton lying flat on his back, I massage his shoulders, then his firm biceps. His eyes slip closed, his mouth softens as a relaxed expression overtakes his face. I can ogle him properly in this position. And I do. From his handsome face, shadowed with a hint of dark stubble, to the thick column of his throat, down his smooth chest, the delectable grooves in his abs, to the trail of fine hair that disappears under his dress pants.

 

Touching his solid arms is not helping my libido. If anything, my core heats up even more and I realize I’m becoming wet. I release a grunt of frustration and his eyes open and find mine. I realize my hands, seeming to have a mind of their own, are now rubbing his chest, brushing over his flat nipples and down further to trace his abs. He releases a soft hiss. My body floods with sexual awareness like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I’m desperate to feel his hands on my body, to be consumed by the deep, hungry kisses I remember.

 

Colton watches me with dark eyes, his breathing shallow and rapid, much like mine.

 

Glancing down, I see his cock is half hard and rising the closer my hands get to his lap. My heart rate speeds up as this moment takes on a deeper meaning. I’m perched atop him, tending to him, and we’re bathed in moonlight with the soft sound of waves lapping lazily behind us. It’s perfect.

 

Without pausing to think, I reach for his belt buckle and undo the stiff leather, my fingers trembling as I open his pants and ease down the zipper. His cock flexes beneath the confines of his black boxer briefs and I release a tiny whimper. I want to coat my hands in oil and slide them up and down his solid length, to hear him growl out my name and watch him lose all his perfect control and come on his hard belly.

 

My panties are soaked and my heartbeat is pounding in all my pulse points. Just as my fingers dip inside his waistband to reach for his cock, he grabs my wrist and stops me.

 

"You don’t have to do that." His voice is soft, but the hold on my wrist is firm.

 

I’m breathless and turned on and the harsh sting of rejection is like a slap to the face. It’s totally unexpected and more brutal than ever imagined. He doesn’t want me touching him. I rise to my feet on unsteady legs, Colton’s eyes following my movements. The wine creates a sour pit in my stomach and my head is spinning. "Why did you bring me here? I want the truth." I hate that my voice is too high and shaky.

 

His eyes dart away from mine. "Companionship." He’s holding something back. And I want to know what. I watch him for a second longer. He adjusts himself, tucking his huge erection back inside his pants and pulling up the zipper.

 

"What is this…this arrangement?" I toss my hands up in the air, frustrated, both sexually and emotionally beyond belief.

 

"Don’t push me, Sophie."

 

My name on his lips is a warning, but I press on. "Just tell me you don’t want me here. Send me away." I can see his desire for me as clear as day. I think he does want me, which makes him denying us both all the more confusing.

 

"There are things about my past you don’t understand," he says, his tone low and calm, but his face holds an expression of silent agony.

 

"Then tell me. I’m sharing your home, your bed – I’m here for another five months. Are we really going to keep ignoring this?"

 

"Ignoring what?" he growls, his voice rough.

 

My gaze wanders to his lap and I unconsciously lick my lips. Crap.

 

If he’s going to act like he’s unaffected, then so am I. Pushing my legs into action, I rush inside, suddenly desperate to be away from him. I dart up the stairs, slamming the master bedroom door closed behind me.

 

This is the most confusing arrangement I’ve ever been part of. I might not have wanted a physical relationship when I first came here, but ever so slowly, Colton’s gentle demeanor and quiet nature won me over. I want him to feel about me the way I do about him. I want to explore these new feelings of arousal bubbling up inside of me.

 

Tearing my shirt off my overheated skin, I drop it to the floor. After turning on the shower, I push down my shorts and panties, and step under the spray of the lukewarm shower.

 

Colton is an asshole. A sexy, yet evil man. I wasn’t even asking for anything in return, I’d just wanted to touch him tonight, innocently at first, and then well, not-so-innocently, but even that was off-limits. It was a harsh wake-up call about my arrangement with this man. As I scrub my body under the warm water, I decide to move my things into one of the guest rooms. I don’t care about his need for companionship.

 

As I finish washing myself, I realize I’m still much too overheated and turned on. My nipples are puckered tight and my body is begging for a release. I run one hand down my stomach, cupping the sensitive flesh between my legs and release a strangled groan. I rarely touch myself like this, feeling unsure and awkward about it most of the time. Tonight is not one of those times. I need this release like I need my next breath. Lowering myself to the stone bench just out of the direct spray of water, I spread my legs and touch the slippery folds, surprised to feel how wet I still am.

 

My fingertips pick up speed, circling and rubbing my clit while dirty thoughts of Colton push into my mind. Rubbing my nipples with one hand while my other stimulates the firm nub at my center.

 

Sensing I’m no longer alone, my eyes fly open to discover Colton standing across from me, watching me pleasure myself through the glass shower wall. His eyes wander my naked body and I snap my legs together. The high I’d pushed my body toward comes barreling down, my orgasm vanishing before it has the chance to reach its peak.

 

 

 

 

 

Colton

 

 

 

 

 

Holy fuck.

 

The sight before me changes everything.

 

I’d assumed all along that Sophie didn’t want me touching her. But after tonight when I’d stopped her and removed her hands from my lap, she’d come upstairs and was now pleasuring herself. Pushing her away had been the hardest damn moment of my life. I didn’t want her touching me out of some strange sense of obligation, or because she thought she owed me. But her flushed cheeks, and swollen pussy tell me instantly she hadn’t been doing anything out of obligation. Sophie wanted me.

 

The realization rings like a gunshot in my ears. I can’t think, can’t see straight. All I can do is stare at her while my blood pumps out of control in my veins. She’s enchanting and different, like an exotic animal I could observe for hours on end.

 

Before I can even process what I’m doing, my pants and boxers are around my ankles and I’m kicking them off. Stepping under the warm water, I offer her a hand and Sophie accepts, rising to her feet to stand before me completely nude and wet.

 

Goddamn.

 

The slick of her warm skin against mine is the best feeling in the world. We’ve been building toward this for too damn long. Living in the same close quarters, sharing a bed, dining together, all the while avoiding the sexual tension building between us. I’d thought it was one sided, but seeing the evidence of her arousal is too much. I’m hard as a fucking rock. I want to bury myself balls deep inside her sweet body and never let her go. Those are dangerous thoughts.

 

"You wanted me," I say, looking in her eyes.

 

She blinks up at me, her blue eyes softening.

 

"Say it," I command.

 

"I… I want you…" she breathes.

 

My mouth crashes against hers, our tongues tangling wildly. Damn, I’d forgotten how soft and lush her lips were. She tastes of wine and I devour every bit of her I can, my hands slipping down her curves to grip her ass and haul her closer. Running my hands over the round globes of flesh, Sophie tilts her hips, pressing her groin closer to mine. Fuck.

 

She wants this as badly as I do, which doesn’t make our situation any easier or less confusing. It’s a mind fuck. A battle I know I’m going to lose. I am a man pushed to my breaking point. I can’t walk away. I won’t leave Sophie to deal with the aftermath of my rejection. And that’s what it had been. I’d been denying my want of her for weeks. I’d held myself back from taking something that wasn’t mine. But tonight, when she’d reached for my belt, I realize now that had been her decision.

 

The spray of warm water hits my back, bringing me back into the moment. My blood is rushing in my ears and my heart is pounding. I want nothing more than to feel the heat of her soft curves molding to my chest and I pull her tighter against me.

 

The whisper of her hot breath rushing against my neck is more intimate than expected. Her body is pressed tightly to mine. She’s giving herself to me. That knowledge is a potent thing, but I won’t abuse my power. I pull a deep breath into my lungs and vow to go slow – to take my time. If she’s letting me touch her, I will make damn sure this is good for her.

 

The press of her heavy breasts against my chest is too much to resist, I bring my hands up and cup her tits, unable to wait any longer. They’re firm and soft at the same time and when my thumbs graze her nipples her breath shudders against my neck. I rub them back and forth, slowly, letting her get used to me touching her. Sensing she wants more, I give them a little tug and her whimper punctuates the silence beautifully.