Oh, my. She didn’t think it would be possible for her to become aroused after what had just happened, but she was wrong. Images of herself bound and subject to his every whim sent a bolt of desire into her pelvis. She shivered and panted.
He locked their room door and pressed her against the silk paneled wall of the sitting room of their suite. His hands ripped away her shawl, flinging it across the room. It fell on the floor but neither one noticed. “I can see you like the idea.”
Oh, yeah, I do. She liked that idea too damn much, if her reaction was any clue.
“I’m going to fuck you. Here. Standing. Against the wall,” he hissed in her ear as he took his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a condom, shoving it between her teeth, “Open it.” With his left hand, he unzipped his trousers, shoving them and his boxers, lower onto his hips.
She clamped her teeth on the foil and he pulled, taking out the condom and sheathing himself.
His hands gripped her dress and shoved it up, binding it around her waist. He grabbed her buttocks. His lips kissed her neck, he pushed their hips closer. He lifted her easily. “Put your legs around my waist,” he commanded in a husky voice, “and hold on to me.”
The long, thin heels of Sophia’s delicate booties caught the curves of his butt and he groaned, his eyes sizzling her.
Sophia had a hard time organizing her thoughts. She gave up and let them scatter away when he pressed his massive length on her bare skin.
Alistair had never been a quiet man when it came to sex. He owned his sexuality in a raw, dark way. However, he had yet to unleash it completely with Sophia. But the thought of another man having her after she had been his, snapped his control.
He drove into her in one hard thrust and she closed her eyes tight, moaning.
“You’re so tight, so hot, you make me harder than I’ve ever been. I can’t wait to come.” He nipped her neck.
Sophia couldn’t answer. She was caught up in the frenzy of his desire and lowered her mouth to his neck, biting him to avoid screaming. A fire burned hot in her veins, her very being a bubbling volcano. She threaded her fingers in his silky soft hair and her nails dug into his scalp. She moaned low and long and pleaded, “Alistair, please, make me come.”
He shifted his hold on her butt to free one arm. He shoved a hand between their bodies and pressed his thumb on her clitoris. “That’s it,” he said through clenched teeth as he thrust deeply into her, over and over, their desire spiking. “Come with me. I’m so close.” He groaned and his cock jerked within her in agreement.
A flash travelled through her spine and her body sizzled with it. She lifted her head and yanked his down to a scorching, primal kiss. Her muscles contracted around him, as he pushed deeper and stilled, pressing her onto the wall. With a low scream, she exploded with passion. She convulsed in his arms, trembling so hard she was sure she was being torn apart. Her limbs weakened and she tumbled against him as her inner muscles narrowed one last time around his length.
Alistair grunted loudly as lightning speared through his spine and exploded behind his eyes, making him dizzy with the force of his incoming orgasm.
He heaved and gasped out loud.
“Sophia.” His low whisper became a plea of devotion. He repeated her name over and over as he came violently.
Her hard breathing on his neck made him shudder with renewed desire.
He kissed her mussed up hair. “Christ, Sophia.” His green eyes were flaming. “You’re mine,” he rumbled in his chest. “Mine, do you understand?” He embraced her tightly against his chest, anxiety burrowing deep in his soul.
“Yes,” she breathed in his scent, “yours.” She loved his smell. A scent unlike anyone else’s in the entire world. Sublimely Alistair.
He walked them to the bedroom with careful strides, his trousers still on his hips and laid her down on the bed. He went to the bathroom and flung the condom in the wastepaper basket. He shed his clothes quickly, leaving them on the chair there.
When he returned to the room, she was already under the sheets. She rested against a mound of white pillows, her raven hair framing her face and upper body. Despite her beauty, the troubled look in her eyes caught his attention. He paused in the middle of the room, uncertain of what to do.
Sophia held out a hand to him, motioning to the empty space next to her. “Alistair, I deserve your trust.”
He winced when she spoke, her voice raspy and low, which confirmed his previous brutality. He walked slowly to a chest of drawers and grabbed a T-shirt and pajama shorts. He dressed and sat on the edge of the bed, scowling.
She waited for his apology in silence. She had no idea what had brought about the outburst or what he would say next. His erratic behavior unnerved her.
“Did I hurt you, Sophia?”
What do you think? Thousands of thoughts went through her mind in a rush. You’re a lawyer, Sophia. You’ve defended women who have been assaulted, battered, and raped. She shoved a hand in her hair, still studying him. What are you going to say to a man who just assaulted you before having wild, absolutely amazing sex?
For the first time in her whole life, she began to understand the dilemma of many women in denouncing their companions. It wasn’t that easy to distinguish and decide what was right when so many emotions where involved.
“Sophia?” he coached, gently.
“It’s okay,” she cleared her throat, trying to get her voice back to normal.
His hand stretched to caress her hair but stopped midair.
Her hand met his halfway and she entwined her fingers with his, putting their hands on her lap. She looked down from his face to their interlaced hands and up again, staring deeply into his green eyes.
Alistair noticed that her eyes were not the beautiful yellow-diamond color he saw when she was turned on or sated after making love. He so loved that color.
She hooded her eyes when she noticed him studying them. But he had already seen that they were tinged with a light brown and it made a strange emotion unfurl in his chest.
A knock sounded on the door, startling them and breaking the awkward silence that had descended in the room.
“I’ll answer it,” he whispered and rose from the bed.
Sophia could hear another male voice. The waiter, probably. She had completely forgotten about the Armagnac and cigars she had wanted.
She jumped off the bed and took a wrap from the closet, donning it. When she heard the door closing, she quietly entered the sitting room and saw Alistair standing in the middle of it. He lowered his head and ran a hand over his nape, frowning. His posture echoed his utter dejection.
He raised his head slowly to examine her, a concerned look on his face. He motioned to a bottle of Armagnac and a cigar box on the table. “Do you still want?”
She shook her head.
He stepped slowly in her direction as if afraid of scaring her. “Did I hurt you?”
She tilted her head back to face him. “Do you want the truth?” she whispered, careful not to hurt her throat anymore.
“Aye,” he nodded, halting only when he almost touched her, “Yes, I do.”
“You did,” she answered him ruthlessly, “I’ll probably have your fingers printed all over my throat tomorrow morning, not to mention your hands on my thighs and my ass.”