James
I finish doing the dishes and go back upstairs to brush my teeth again.
I threw up twice last night, and I still can’t get the taste of it out of my mouth. Once was on the drive here from New York with Sophia still sleeping in the back seat.
I pulled over and walked toward the woods, barely making it off the pavement before I emptied my guts. It wasn’t from stress or fear or pulling the trigger on that degenerate.
No. I was sick from putting Sophia in that situation. And I’m still sick.
My stomach is on a carousel like I’m back in college and have the spins. I haven’t eaten breakfast. A few small glasses of water earlier are all I can keep down.
I didn’t know you could be literally sick from guilt. Sick from watching someone you care about pass out from shock.
Sick from knowing it was all your fault, and it wasn’t even the first time she’s been in danger because of you.
I rescued her. Brought her to safety. Carried her inside. But all this can be erased in the ledger book of good deeds. She needed my help because I put her in that situation. Simple as that.
I can’t for one second pretend to be the hero she thinks I am. The police asked how I knew something was wrong at the gallery.
There’s street camera footage of me breaking every traffic law known to man to get there. I can’t say I saw it from a live feed. All the cameras were disabled when the power was cut. I told them I remembered seeing something was off when Sophia was dropped off in the taxi. That there was a black van at the end of the block that slipped my mind until I had proper time to sit and think about it.
I’m not sure the detectives bought it. But there was a van there. I remember seeing it. The cameras will back me up.
I’ll have to get lucky, because I can’t rat Cody out.
No, I must deal with him another way. My own way. To think he’d let me use Sophia as a prop, as a key the robbers could turn to get the artifacts… He thought she was little more than an employee to me. And he thought lethally wrong.
I swish mouthwash around for a minute and spit. I have some shame mixed in with my guilt, because my thoughts about Sophia aren’t entirely pure. She’s adorable in my T-shirt. I want those big brown eyes looking up at me. Those smooth legs wrapped around my back.
What is wrong with me? She needs to recover, not be lusted over.
“Hey,” I hear behind me. “Do you maybe have an extra one of those?”
Sophia stands back several feet in the master bedroom. I stare at her tousled morning hair. It’s so thick and tangled in places that it looks like coils of twine.
So innocent. So beautiful. I stare at her for several stunned seconds before I realize she’s wondering if I have an extra toothbrush.
“Um, shit,” I say.
She laughs. “You don’t have a toothbrush, do you?”
“No. I’m sure there’s a spare in one of these bathrooms.”
“How many bathrooms does this place have?” she asks.
I have to squint and think. “Five. No… Yeah. Five.”
“You’re not just going to send me on a wild-goose chase, are you?”
I start opening drawers in the vanity but don’t find an extra. We go to the hallway and start with the linen closet. There are cleaning products and towels and even a new tube of toothpaste, but there’s no toothbrush.
The rest of the bathrooms are a similar story. There are soaps and shampoos that have been stocked by housekeeping since I bought this place, but there’s no brush. Most of the bathroom drawers have nothing in them but a sparse layer of dust.
“Okay, handsome,” Sophia says as we stand defeated at the final vanity. “How open are you to the idea of sharing?”
She’s not acting like she’s damaged. And I realize maybe it’s not just a show for me. Maybe she is okay.
“It’s disgusting.”
Sophia winces back, offended. “Okay. I was going to spare you the embarrassment, but this T-shirt of yours has pit stains.” She lifts her arm up to show some yellow discoloration around the armpits.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” I say, smirking. “It’s a workout shirt.”
“I couldn’t have gotten a non-workout shirt?”
“I didn’t want you wearing an Armani button down while you ate French toast.”
“So you put me in your dirty clothes?”
“Stained clothes. They’ve been washed.”
“Ah. I see.”
“Syrup doesn’t come out.”
“I’m not a messy eater.”
“Hmm.” I raise a skeptical brow. “I’ve seen you give head.”
Sophia blanches. Her eyes widen slowly, and so do her lips as she smiles. “I’m extra hungry then. You can’t blame me.”
I can see her nipples tenting the thin fabric of the T-shirt. The thing has been washed so many times, it’s nearly see-through. What was I thinking, giving it to her?
But from the way she flirts, I don’t think I’m the only one upset that last night was canceled.
I lift my hand. I’m not even thinking as my forefinger and thumb find their way around one of her nipples and squeeze. My cock tightens the fabric of my pants as Sophia lets out a shuddering gasp of pleasure.
Just like that, my nausea is gone. My vision becomes ten times clearer. What’s in front of me is crisp. Unreal.
This woman sets my blood on fire, and in just the length of a breath, my heart is beating twice as fast.
I pinch harder, and she draws her chest up closer to me. “We can be cute, Sophia. But as long as you’re under my roof, there will be rules.”
She nods eagerly. “Whatever you want.”
“Our conversation at dinner last night… I wasn’t kidding. I need you to understand that if we do this… you belong to me .”
“.” She breathes heavily. “I already do.”
Her trembling words set me alight. I put my other hand on her T-shirt, grip the thin fabric in both fists, and tear.
Her porcelain skin isn’t that much darker than the shirt. Her pink nipples are stiff, puffy, and I lower my head to suck on one while the shirt hangs onto her shoulders like an open vest.
She moans in pleasure and caresses my hair with one hand while fumbling hungrily at the button on my pants with the other. She keeps trying to slip the button through the hole, but she’s too distracted to put focus into it.
I break away from her breast and stand straight. I guide her hand and undo my button and zipper. I groan and my eyes roll back as I feel the weight of my cock gripped in her warm, small hand. She tugs greedily.
Carelessly.
She wants me so badly, she’s not putting much thought into her moves, and that drives me far wilder than any skilled hand job ever could.
I stare into her eyes.
Two dark, glistening wells. Her lips are pink and puffy, just like her nipples right now. Her pale skin matches the blanket of snow outside.
It’s all so congruent. All so perfect. I could stare for hours if it wasn’t for the throbbing heat in my cock. The need to not just fuck, but to ravish this woman.
I go in and kiss her. Exploring her lips like I never have before. Our breaths are nervous and hurried. Our exhales uneven and shaky. When the kiss breaks, we both gasp for air to get the oxygen we can’t when our mouths are busy.
I set my forehead against hers, and we both smile at our breathlessness. I move my mouth to her ear. “Do you want to get fucked?”
“Please,” Sophia gasps again.
I’m not asking, but I love hearing her beg.
I strip the rest of the shirt off her and tear the sweatpants off in a similar fashion. She’s in nothing but a little white pair of panties as I push her onto the bed.
I rub her wetness through the fabric of her underwear and move to her side so my cock bounces next to her mouth. She works her head up to get the tip in between her lips. She stares up at me with narrowed, ravenous eyes as she sucks.
“Oh, fuck,” I say as my fingers glide into her wet pussy without the least resistance. She’s quite literally dripping.
Her body wants me so bad, and it turns me on as much as her beauty. To know I reduced a mind as powerful and intelligent as hers into a horny puddle might just be the ultimate compliment. Isn’t that one of the greatest joys of sex? To turn the prim and proper into a salivating and horny animal.
I’m only philosophizing to keep myself from finishing too soon in these first minutes. Once I last through the initial passion, I can last till she’s raw, red and dehydrated.
I put my thumb on her clit and start to rub in circles.
“I want you to come with my cock in your mouth.”
She moans, and the feel of her voice vibrating on my cock makes me grunt and thrust a little into her mouth. Spit starts to swing from her chin.
Her doe eyes are one thing in the daylight, but looking up at me so helplessly while her lips are wrapped around my cock might just be the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.
I start to rub her clit faster, and her sucking slows down and becomes uneven. I can tell from how her body starts to shudder that she’s close.
I work a third finger inside her, and her body bucks and shakes. Her brows draw together, and she gasps hard enough that my cock bounces out of her mouth. She turns her head, looking for it, and immediately takes it back between her lips and swirls her tongue around the tip.
She starts to moan. Loud. And the vibrations of it on my cock head are enough to send me to climax if I’m not careful. “Come for me. Now,” I command.
She’s so wet that my hand clapping against her cunt makes a sound like sex.
Those doe eyes disappear as her head tilts back. She shakes violently, every muscle relaxing and tensing. When she’s finally still, I slide my fingers out.
When I take my hand away, she wiggles so she’s back at my cock and sucks obediently without a word from me.
“That’s my girl,” I grunt. Her eyes are still hungry, and this is good, because she has no idea what she’s in for.