She never allowed anyone to get too close to her because she couldn't chance anything ruining her plans. Sophia had convinced herself that her grandma was all she needed to get her through this world. The fact was, after Sophia's mom took off, she wasn’t sure who would want her.
Her job didn’t help. She closed herself off from all those strangers putting on her fake, empty counter space ideology to get through every single dance she performed. Only in her way, it was a little different because she flaunted her body out there for the world to see. She simply lacked feeling. No emotions meant no attachment and dancing each night, well, she’d become a pro at that. That was where Michael and she were the same kind of people.
Sophia’s granny did a great job of loving her, but when a mom leaves her daughter, it’s something that can never be taken back. A hole that had been permanently speared through her heart – unable to understand why she wasn’t ever good enough for her mom.
Maybe she was worried that she would never be able to please Michael. How could she, topless dancer and a one-class-a-semester kind of girl, possibly please that mysteriously, smart man who lived on the top floor of that high rise all by himself? That man who made himself into a billionaire with his own mind and those strong hands – what could she do to make him happy forever? She with her sheltered little life, living on the edge of the ghetto.
She only had a few more squares to paint for the art room to be complete and once Sophia finished, she was going to make a visit to that high-rise penthouse. She didn't know what would happen, but she was going to surrender to him. Give him whatever it was he demanded of her. At least just this once. Anything that happened afterwards, well, Sophia was a big girl, she could deal with it. She couldn't let this man get away from her. Even if this was only temporary or the beginning of something that lasted forever, she needed to give herself to him to find out.
After she washed the brushes off and cleaned up her mess, she took the bus to his place. The city was alive and bustling with excitement as she waited impatiently for his stop. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, her nerves pulsed with electricity as she fidgeted with how this was going to play out. She couldn’t go in there and strip. That wasn’t the part of her she was giving to him. Sophia was giving him the real her and the real her, well, she was a little unsure and inexperienced in that department.
She could only hope he would take the lead.
Sophia stepped off the bus and weaved her way through a crowd of teenagers who were encompassed in a thick cloud of marijuana smoke. The sun had gone down, all the street lights and signs from the many high rises lit up downtown, and she wondered if Michael sat in his penthouse staring at all the twinkling lights from his living room.
Punching the button to gain entry, she tried peeling off the excess paint along the edges of her fingernails as she waited, trying to calm her nerves. She was grateful that she didn't have paint on her clothes or hair. The button clicked for her to enter, and Sophia hesitated before realizing that of course he would have a camera to see who was ringing him.
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped on despite the voice in her head asking if this was the right thing to do. Seconds later she was standing in his penthouse, her heart beating wildly in her chest—a mixture of excitement and fear as she took in his height and lean body. With no shirt and only black athletic pants, the ripples of lean muscle along Michael’s abdomen and chest made the butterflies in her stomach soar into outer space. Being half-dressed, the way he was, left nothing to her imagination, and the idea of touching him, of touching all that sweet skin before her, got her thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
“No way, Sophia. You’ve come this far, don’t chicken out now.” His voice was dangerously low. Bringing her gaze up to his, she could see all of Michael’s emotions in his eyes. Arousal, surprise, desire and something else. Something quiet and hesitant. The same thing she knew he could see in her own eyes.
“Hi.” Sophia said, because she didn't know what to say now that she was there.
“What brings you here?” His voice was still low and husky and the tension between them was unreal.
Sophia could only stare at all his sexiness, bundled up in front of her as she tried to gather her thoughts. All the things she’d thought and memorized over and over on the way there about what she would say, and now that she was looking at him in the flesh, she couldn’t figure out how to voice them.
“I came for you,” she whispered. “If you’ll still have me.”
Michael’s stare was bold and assessed her frankly. His throat moved up and down before he spoke. “How do I know you’re in this, this time?”
Sophia gulped. She dropped her purse on the floor and began unbuttoning her jacket as his gaze fell to the creamy expanse of her neck. “Because I’m here to give you all of me. To show you that I’m willing to try. I was so focused on all your problems that I never looked deep enough at my own.”
“Which are what exactly?” He stepped closer.
Sophia's laugh came out shaky sounding, and she wished that she wasn't in such a vulnerable state. Her body ached for his touch. “That I don’t allow anyone to get close to me either. You see, we’re not so different after all.”
“And now you’re going to let me get close to you, Sophia?”
“Yes. I’m here because I want you to make me yours. At least for tonight.”
He took another step toward her, and she could feel the heat from his body along her arms. He was so powerful, so confident, and as she looked up into his eyes, Sophia told herself not to step back, not to back down. She wanted this. She wanted him so badly, she couldn't breathe. She’d waited so long for this moment. She wasn’t walking out of there without his touch branded onto every inch of her skin. Until she devoured every inch of his skin.
“The problem with that, Sophia, is that I don’t want just tonight. I want more.”
His invitation was a passionate challenge, hard to resist and at once, his lips crashed down onto hers in a desperate hunger, and this time she recognized her own moans as his tongue and mouth took control of her. That single kiss linked them together, sealing all their hurt, anger and confusion into one giant ball – covering it with the desperate need of two lovers. He tasted like toothpaste, and she'd never thought it to be as sexy as it was in that moment. Her hands found their way around his neck and back, and he felt so good…so manly. So warm and smooth.
“Make love to me, Michael.” She begged him as his hands rested against her butt, pulling her up and into his embrace so her legs were wrapped around his torso. His erection ground in between her thighs and knew as she trembled against him, that she had never been so sure of something in her life.
Before she knew it, they were moving across the large span of his penthouse and down the hallway to his bedroom. He laid her down on his bed and was hovering over her. He took his time pulling her shirt up and over her head. She couldn't look away from him, his gaze magnetic.
He eyed her chest even though her bra was still on. Like he’d never seen anything like it in his life. She pulled at the buckle amidst the lace on the front, wanting him to see her this way, wanting to share herself with him. He groaned as her tits spilled out, and with his heavy-lidded gaze on her, she felt wanted for the first time in a long time. Wanted for real. By someone who mattered.
“You’re killing me, baby.”
Trails of wetness marked her breasts as he cleared a path all the way to her nipple. It was utterly sinful as she watched him take one of her nipples into his mouth. He bit the swollen bead, and it pulled at her core, pulled from a longing she’d held onto so tightly for so long. Letting go, his hands traveled down the sides of her body, unzipping her jeans and tugging them off in one quick swipe. She gripped the comforter, unsure of what she should do, if she should touch him or lay there and continue to allow him to take the lead. All she knew was that she didn't want it to end. He scooted down along the bed, pressing his tanta
lizing mouth into Sophia's abdomen, kissing her skin there and along the fabric of her panties. So good. It felt so damn good. The pressure of his lips sinking into the fabric coupled with the heat of his mouth and the way his hands were firmly gripping her hips were all new sensations for her.
Spectacular sensations.
His thumbs went under the elastic of her panties, and her breath caught as he drew them down her trembling legs. He was so gentle and sweet, taking his time while she was burning up underneath him. He edged her legs open, baring her to him. For the split second that her nerves threatened to spill out, she reminded herself that this was what she wanted. Why she came here. Sophia wanted to give herself to him. Only him. Twenty-four years of waiting and it was coming down to this. His hands lightly traced a path over her skin and she bit down on her lip to keep any babbling at bay for fear of ruining the moment. A pool of heat throbbed between her legs, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what she should do with her hands!
“Sophia, relax. Trust me.”
“I’m trying. It’s just, I haven’t, well, no one’s ever…” Her voice trailed off. She was horrible at this. With her eyes closed she tried to focus on the sensations, the feel of him between her legs. Dear God, he hadn't even touched anything yet, and she was an ugly mess.
“Sophia?”
The bed dipped, and when she opened her eyes, Michael was once again sprawled above her bearing most of his weight on his elbows. She could feel his uneven breaths against her cheek.
“Sophia?” he repeated.
For the first time since he’d carried her in there, she noticed the room was cast in a soft glow from his bedside lamp, making his eyes glisten as the beams danced in his irises. Sophia swallowed the dryness in her throat, hoping, whatever he was doing, that he wasn’t stopping. She wouldn't be able to bear the rejection if he did.
“Haven’t you ever had sex before?”
Sophia gave a quick shake of her head. He lowered his forehead onto hers, letting out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh of frustration and a growl of arousal. Was he angry she hadn’t told him? She could feel how aroused he was against her thighs, so surely he didn't want to stop, right?
“Open your eyes, Sophia.” His soothing voice probed her.
She blinked them open again, all the while worrying at her bottom lip, waiting for whatever it was he was going to say. Hoping with all her heart that he wasn’t going to change his mind about sleeping with her.
She’d come so far.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
“It never came up. With everything that has been going on between us…” Sophia stopped, then started again, “There never seemed to be a moment to lay that out on the table.”
“I just assumed—”
“I know. Because I’m twenty-four. And a stripper, right? And I let you touch me all those times? I get it. Trust me. It’s a secret I keep guarded. It doesn't define me,” she said defiantly.
“This changes everything,” he countered, nibbling her collarbone.
“No. It doesn’t. I want this,” she promised.
“And you’re going to get it, Sophia.” A low rumble came from his throat. “There’s no doubt about that. I’m going to love you gently, slowly and then when you think you can’t possibly take anymore, I’m going to fuck you so hard that there’s going to be no doubt left in your mind that you belong to me.”
Belong to him. Michael. He pressed his erection in between Sophia’s legs, and her modesty won out, thankful that he still wore his athletic pants. She squeezed her legs around his torso, trying to pull him in, trying to quench this new, feverish desire burning inside of her.
“Slow down, baby. We’ve got all night. I promise.” His husky voice turned into a mumble as he moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness.
Soon enough he moved his hand between her legs, pressing into her aching arousal. She whimpered, her hips moving into his hand of their own accord, and when his finger entered her core, Sophia felt like she might orgasm in a matter of seconds.
“You’re so tight, baby. Relax. Let me please you.”
He whispered all the right words to her and more. Encouragement, even though she didn't need it. She had been on the edge for so long. When he slid a second finger inside of her, she fell from the edge and into Michael’s world. She cried out in pleasure as he moved his fingers in and out of her with sure, possessive strokes. The dormant sexuality of her body had been awakened.
Sophia had never felt so taken care of, and when she thought it was over, his mouth was down there, between her legs. His tongue licked that hard spot that she was sure couldn't handle anymore and shivers of delight rippled through her. She gripped the feather pillow her head was resting on, with both of her hands as Michael’s tongue worked in magical circles all over her clitoris. She felt more alive than she’d ever had in her entire life. The pounding of her heart flooded through her entire system and it was nothing like the musical thumping she got up on stage. This was better. It was real and it was from Michael. His fingers pumped in and out of her in such an expert manner, it wasn't long before a tingling sensation was weaving its way from her toes and up the insides of her thighs and she was sure Michael could feel the electrical current pass from her to his tongue as she arched in delight.
“I didn’t know it was possible to have more than one of those.” She sighed in her orgasmic bliss.
“We’re not done, Sophia.” He gave her an overly exaggerated smile that made her insides melt.
She laughed as he climbed off and stood from the bed. Looming over her, he pulled his sweatpants down, letting them pool at his feet. Sophia marveled at his toned physique, the hard planes of his chest, the ridges and swells of his abdomen and the taut muscles in his legs. His bulging erection beneath his briefs didn’t go unnoticed, and her body hummed with excitement.
Sophia watched. And waited.
His boxer-briefs finally came off, and it was the first time in her life she’d seen a full-on nude male body in person. Unbelievable. And seeing him, her consciousness questioned what in the hell she’d been thinking to stay a virgin for so long. He was massively thick and solid, a small bit of liquid beaded at the head of him, and without thinking, Sophia reached out and swiped it with her palm. His eyes fluttered, and she gripped him in an unskilled way. He tugged her wrist and showed her how to move up and down along his shaft, applying pressure as she stroked him.
His lazy grin pulled her from her daze, and she giggled like a school girl. He took a condom out of his dresser drawer where Gone with the Wind still sat, a little tassel hanging from the edge marking his spot. Was he getting ready to read the part where Scarlett and Rhett meet for the first time at Twelve Oaks?
“Sophia? Would you rather read?” He forced her attention back to his body, and she couldn’t hide her embarrassment for letting the good book grab ahold of her thoughts at such a wonderful moment. She shook her head.
Sheathing himself with the condom, he lowered himself on top of Sophia, kissing her lips, her neck and collarbone. He was tender and caring, and she knew that beneath his cool demeanor, there was this, somewhere hidden underneath. She was fully aware of the hardness of his manhood brushing against her thighs.
“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you, Sophia.”
She braced herself for what she knew was coming, and when the head of his cock nudged her entrance, she lost all train of thought. He edged in inch by large inch, and Sophia squeezed her eyes shut at the small amount of pain she felt.
“You’re so fucking tight, Sophia.”
At the strained sound of his voice, Sophia realized this was as difficult for him as the pain was to her. He was trying not to hurt her. Trying his damnedest to go slow. His earlier warning about fucking her flitted through her mind, and Sophia grasped his hips pushing him into her as far as her body would take him.
Sophia gasped. Above her, he growled and stopped his movements.
&nb
sp; “Don’t stop. It’s not too terrible,” she whimpered.
With slow movements, he began pumping into her, and the tightness she’d first experienced began to fade away, and overwhelming pleasure took hold of her. He brushed strands of hair away from her face with one hand while he cupped her face with his other. Their eyes were glued to one another. Time stood still between them as he continued his slow thrusts.
“Come for me one more time, Sophia. What do you need me to do?”
Sophia shook her head because she didn’t need anything. The way he was watching her, the care he was taking as he made love to her, was more than she could ever ask for. Suddenly, he flipped her over, and she was sitting on top of him, straddling his manhood like a goddess and she couldn’t control her outcry of delight. His grip on her hips pushed her toward the rhythmic movement that would help her achieve her goal. Just like the night at The Glass House inside the Alabaster room.
“Just like that, baby,” he whispered, watching her in awe.
Sophia took ownership of the movement and begin to ride him and grind on him. His large fingers closed around her nipples, pinching them into tight peaks as Sophia’s orgasm rocked her body and passion surged through her veins.
Chapter Seventeen
Michael opened his bleary eyes and saw that the clock read five till two. It only took him a second before he reached for her. Sophia lay on her stomach, their blankets tangled around each other. Her skin was soft and smooth like he imagined how all those pinups would feel. She was a pinup. His pinup. He wasn’t clear on her exact plan, but Michael’s was clear as day.
Like a gift: he was exceptionally happy to have her, and he was keeping her.
All his.
He was going to do whatever the hell he needed to keep her. With him. For as long as he could have her. As long as she’d let him.
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