8. Blake
EIGHT
Blake
The door slams behind me, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway and straight into my bones. I stand frozen, fists clenched at my sides, every muscle in my body coiled tight with tension. Sophia’s perfume still lingers on my clothes, a sweet, haunting reminder of how close we were just moments ago.
I pace the narrow corridor, my steps quick and uneven, tension coiling through me like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap.
I can’t stay here.
I can’t leave.
I stop mid-stride, pressing my back against the cool, unforgiving wall, trying to ground myself. My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I rake a hand through my hair. The sensation of my fingers against my scalp does little to calm the storm raging inside me. I close my eyes, but all I can see is Sophia’s face, her eyes filled with hurt and rejection.
My body betrays me, arousal building painfully. I’m furious, disgusted by how badly I want her. This primal need clashes violently with my sense of duty, tearing me apart from the inside out.
Goddammit .
I want her.
I push off the wall, taking a few steps away from her door, my fists clenched at my sides. The hallway stretches out before me, an endless path leading away from temptation. Each step feels like I’m losing her—abandoning her—when she needs me the most.
Fuck.
I take a step toward the elevator, then stop. My heart hammers against my ribcage, a frantic rhythm that matches the chaos in my mind. I should leave. I need to leave. But my feet refuse to move.
I turn back, my feet dragging me toward her door, driven by a force I can’t control. My hand twitches at my side, already imagining the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingertips. The memory of her lips on mine sends a jolt of electricity down my spine.
My hand lifts, trembling violently as I bring it closer to the door. The weight of my emotions—desire, guilt, fear—threatens to crush me.
I can’t do this.
I shouldn’t.
She’s been through so much already, and the last thing she needs is me complicating her life.
I let my hand fall to my side, frustration bubbling up inside me. The heat of my desire clashes with the cold reality of the situation. She deserves better than this—better than me.
“Dammit.” I run a hand through my hair.
I walk away again, but the pull is too strong. I’m denying a part of myself that I can’t ignore. I pivot, turning back once more, my resolve crumbling.
My arousal and frustration mix into a potent cocktail, clouding my thoughts. I can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but the overpowering need to be near her. My body and mind are at war, and I’m losing on both fronts.
The hallway is quiet; the only sound is the soft hum of the building’s ventilation system. The scent of lavender lingers in the air. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart, but the scent brings back memories of her—memories I can’t push away.
Fuck this .
I pause at the window at the end of the hall, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. The night sky stretches before me, stars twinkling innocently, oblivious to my inner turmoil. I close my eyes, trying to center myself, to find some semblance of the control I’ve always prided myself on.
But all I can see is Sophia: the way her eyes darkened with desire, the soft gasp she made when I pulled away, and the hurt and confusion on her face as I stammered out pathetic excuses.
My body responds to the memories, a rush of heat flooding through me. I grit my teeth, furious at my lack of control. This isn’t me. No matter how beautiful or tempting, I don’t lose my head over a woman.
But Sophia isn’t just any woman. She’s my responsibility, my charge. Someone who’s been through hell and back, who needs protection and support, not another man taking advantage of her vulnerability.
The thought is like getting doused by a bucket of ice water. I straighten, shame washing over me. What kind of man am I to consider crossing that line?
I turn away from the window, determined to put as much distance between myself and temptation as possible. As I pass Sophia’s door again, a muffled sound draws me up short, makes my breath hitch, my heart clench.
Is she crying?
My hand rises of its own accord, hovering inches from the door. I should knock, ensure she’s okay, and apologize for my behavior. But if I knock, I’m not sure I’ll have the strength to walk away.
I lower my hand, conflict tearing me apart. The need to comfort her wars with the knowledge that I’m the last person who should be offering that comfort right now.
In the end, duty wins out over desire. I force myself to take one step, then another, toward the elevator. Each step feels like I’m moving through molasses, every fiber of my being screaming at me to turn back.
As the elevator doors open, I pull up short.
Fuck professional boundaries .
I stride back to her door, resolve tightening in my chest. This time, I’m going to knock. I’ll make her understand. My hand lifts, muscles taut with tension.
Before I can knock, the door swings open, and she stands in the doorway, eyes wide in surprise. We lock eyes, the air thick with a storm of unresolved emotions.
“Sophia.” Her name escapes my lips, a desperate whisper.
She stays rooted in place, silent, those stormy eyes of hers brimming with a mix of hope and hurt. The silence between us stretches, heavy and suffocating, as we stand there, trapped in this moment.
In a sudden, uncontrollable surge of emotion, I close the distance between us, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her to me. My lips crash against hers, the kiss fierce and primal, a release of all my pent-up desire and frustration.
Her body tenses, but then she melts into me, her arms snaking around my neck, pulling me closer. Her sweet and intoxicating taste fills my senses, and I lose myself in the sensation.
The hallway fades away, the world narrowing to just the two of us. My hands roam her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her blouse. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging gently, sending shivers down my spine.
I pull back, gasping for breath, my forehead resting against hers.
I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life, but I don’t fucking care.
“You need to understand something.” My voice is rough and strained.
“What?”
“I like it rough and dirty.” I struggle to keep my voice steady. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She doesn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, her eyes darken. “Good thing that’s exactly what I need—someone who won’t treat me like I’m made of glass.” She steps closer, her breath warm against my skin.
Her words send a jolt through me. I search her face, looking for any sign of hesitation or fear .
“Are you sure? Because once we start, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
I search for any sign of hesitation, but all I see is determination and need.
“I want this. I want you.” Sophia’s hands slide up my chest, her touch searing through my shirt. “The good. The bad. The ugly. The rough and the dirty. All of it.” She rises on her tiptoes, her lips brushing my ear. “I won’t break. Show me how much you want me.”
“Sophia.” My voice is a whisper, barely audible.
She leans in, her lips brushing against mine, a soft, tantalizing touch. “Please.” Her fingers trail down my chest.
The last threads of my control snap. I growl low in my throat and spin us around, pressing her against the wall. My hands grip her hips, hard enough to bruise, but she doesn’t protest. Instead, she arches into me, a soft moan escaping her lips.
“Last chance to back out,” I warn, my voice barely recognizable.
Her fingers trail down my abdomen, stoking the fire burning inside me. “Show me every inch of the darkness you keep hidden from the world.”
The realization hits me like a lightning bolt, searing through my veins and awakening every nerve ending in my body. For the first time, I’m with a woman who can handle all of me—the depths of my desire, the intensity of my passion, the darkness that lurks beneath the surface. It’s a terrifying thought, one that sends a shiver down my spine. But it’s also exhilarating; like standing at the edge of a precipice, ready to jump into the unknown.
“Then prepare to be consumed.” The final thread of my restraint shatters. I can’t hold back anymore.
I capture her lips in a brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue, pouring every ounce of my bridled aggression and lust into it. She meets me with equal fervor, her nails raking down my back, urging me on.
I break away from her lips with a growl, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck and onto her collarbone. Her pulse races beneath my tongue, fueling my lust .
I break away, panting. “Bedroom. Now.”
Her pupils blow black, wild with desire. A small part of my brain screams this is a terrible idea, but with Sophia looking at me like that, wanting me like this, I can’t bring myself to care.
I point toward the bedroom, my command clear. As she turns, I smack her lightly on the ass. She gasps, then looks over her shoulder at me, eyes sparkling with mischief and desire.
“That all you got?” Her voice is husky and challenging.
I break away, panting, my eyes wild and dark. “Strip.” It’s less a request and more a command. “Now.”
Sophia’s breath catches, but she doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers move to the buttons of her blouse; her gaze never leaves mine as she slowly begins to undress.
I watch, transfixed, as more of her skin is revealed. My hands itch to touch her, but I force myself to wait, savoring the anticipation.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, drinking in the sight of her. “You’re perfection,” I rasp, my hands stroking the soft lines of her body reverently. “Absolute perfection.”
Sophia blushes but stands tall, confident under my gaze.
“Your turn,” she says softly.
“Oh no, sweetheart. I’m in control.”
“Promise?” Her eyes darken, a shiver running through her—not from the cold, but from the promise in my words.
“Yes.” I step closer.
I circle her slowly, drinking in every curve and contour. My fingers trail lightly across her shoulders, down her spine, barely touching. Goose bumps rise in the wake of my touch.
“On the bed,” I order, my voice low and gravelly.
Sophia complies, moving with a grace that takes my breath away. She settles on the edge of the mattress, her eyes filled with anticipation.
I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “If anything becomes too much, you tell me to stop. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Her hands rest lightly on my wrists. “And when it’s not enough, I’ll tell you that too. ”
Her words hit me hard. She’s playing right into my deepest, darkest fantasies. Is it possible that I won’t have to hold back with her as I have with other women?
“Fuuuuuck…” I grit my teeth as her words send a rush of heat to my groin. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Don’t hold back. I can take it. I want to take it—from you.”
Her boldness stuns me for a moment. Then, a primal growl escapes my throat.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for, sweetheart.” I pull back, searching her face for any hint of hesitation. There is none. Only desire, trust, and a challenge that sets my blood on fire. “Last chance,” I warn, my voice barely recognizable.
In response, Sophia grabs my shirt, pulling me closer. “Stop talking and start showing. Command me, control me… Make me yours.” Sophia’s lips curl into a seductive smile.
Her words send me into a frenzy of need. Desire courses in my veins. I capture her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head. My other hand traces the curve of her jaw down her neck, feeling her pulse race beneath my fingertips.
I push her back on the soft sheets and take in every inch of her body with hungry eyes.
“God, you’re stunning,” I growl, trailing kisses along the column of her neck. Sophia’s fingers thread through my hair, and she arches into me, moaning softly. “I’ve wanted you since the night we met.” The words send electricity coursing through my veins.
“You have me.” Her reply is instantaneous.
Our lips collide with almost violent force. Our mouths move together with a dizzying ferocity, our tongues tangling and teeth clashing in a passionate battle. Our heavy breathing fills the room, accompanied by our passionate frenzy.
My hands roam over every inch of exposed skin, memorizing the shape and feel of it all. I break away from our kiss to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down Sophia’s neck and onto her chest. She gasps when my lips close around one nipple while my hand massages the other breast.
“Blake,” she moans, writhing beneath me .
Her essence, a delicate mix of flowers and vanilla, fills my nose as I breathe her in deeply. The musky scent of desire and arousal fills the air around us.
Her hands wander over my chest and shoulders, tugging at my shirt. Without breaking our kiss, I quickly remove the offending fabric before returning my attention to Sophia’s lips.
I’m lost in the sensation of our bodies pressed together, skin on skin. Her hands trail down my chest and stomach, reaching the button of my jeans. With practiced ease, she undoes it and slides her hand inside.
My breath hitches as she wraps her hand around me, stroking me slowly. Our tongues dance together as I reach down to return the favor. Sophia gasps into my mouth as I cup her between her legs.
She runs a finger along my length, making me gasp.
She leans in close until our noses are almost touching. “Tell me how to serve you.”
As we lose ourselves in each other, a harrowing truth hits me: this may be the first time I’m with a woman who can handle all of me. The realization is a potent cocktail that pushes me over the edge.