Filthy Beautiful Lies(#1#2)

Chapter 23



Colton

I catch a hold of Sophie’s wrist in my office and spin her to face me. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s breathing rapidly, still trying to recover from her orgasm. She did not get to tease me, ride my dick until she came and then just disappear. There’s nothing hotter than a confident girl who takes what she wants, but that is not how this works.

“I don’t think so, sweetness,” I growl.Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

She pulls her lower lip into her mouth and sucks. My cock pulses, reminding me of his predicament. He’s still coated in her damp juices and now I want to watch her drop to her knees and lick them off. “Do you understand how close I was? How easily I could have lifted you up and pushed my way inside your hot little cunt?”

She lets out a squeak of surprise.

I reach under her dress and push two fingers inside her silky channel. Her eyes widen and latch onto mine as I pump my fingers in and out. “And it’s my job to make sure this tight little pussy’s ready for me. Isn’t it?” I withdraw my fingers and reach down, gripping my cock and using her moisture to stroke him up and down. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” she stumbles, gazing down at the show I’m giving her.

“I could have hurt you. Made you bleed. We don’t want that, now do we?”

She doesn’t answer. Her blue eyes just blaze back at mine in a silent challenge.

The fuck?

My balls ache with the need to be inside her, but I can’t. I won’t until I’ve settled my past with Stella. The closer I grow to Sophie, the more I understand about her, I don’t want to hurt her. I bought her as a way to have some fun and blow off steam, but somewhere along the way, it’s become something more. Right from that very first morning when Pace looked her over with rapt interest, I became invested. In her. In us.

“The answer is no, Sophie. I don’t want to hurt you.” I force the words out of my mouth.

She draws a shuddering breath. “Isn’t a sex slave supposed to, I don’t know, actually have sex with her master?”

The desire to take her is a physical ache, but I force myself to remain composed. “That eager, huh?” I trail a damp fingertip along her lower lip and feel her inhale sharply.

“You bought me, expecting something in return. Call me crazy, but I thought that was how this worked,” she challenges.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t want a sex slave. I want a companion. A mistress. Call me conservative, but I don’t like the term slave.” I’ve paid Sophie to be here – she’s not held captive against her will.

“A mistress?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

“It suits you. You’re my dirty little secret – a kept woman,” I remind her, smoothing a hand along her backside, watching her pulse kick up in her neck. I couldn’t have her questioning my motives. They was too fucked up for even me to think about, let alone admit to her. And since I wasn’t willing to let Stella fuck up yet another thing in my life, I planned to handle her, and then I would make Sophie mine.

“Take off your dress.”

She’s still watching me jerk myself, so it takes her a minute to respond – her eyes snapping up to mine and her hands moving to lift the dress off over her head.

She’s wearing the pale blue lace bra I remember from the first night and wordlessly, she unsnaps it and lets it fall to the floor.

I look down at my cock in my hand and then back at her mouth. Sophie gracefully drops to her knees between my feet and eagerly brings her mouth to me.

Fuuck.

The sweet warmth of her mouth as she licks the tip of my dick sends a bolt of pleasure ricocheting through me. I clench my abdominals and thread my fingers in her hair, forcing more of myself in between her lips. With her eyes looking up at mine, she takes me deeper, letting me control the pace as I thrust into her mouth. I push my hips forward in a lazy pace, wanting to draw this out as long as possible. She cups my balls, massaging them and I grunt in surprise when she gives them a little tug. Shit. This girl is good.

“Stroke me,” I breathe, and Sophie obeys, wrapping one hand around my base and pumping in time with her bobbing mouth. Her rhythm is perfect. My shaft glistens with her saliva and the dual sensations are enough to send me spiraling over the edge way too soon and I brace one hand on my desk as my muscles tense.

“Soph…” I whisper a weak warning. She sucks me harder, hollowing out her cheeks, and my head drops back toward my shoulders as I empty myself into her.

She swallows every drop, like a goddamn champ, and I can’t resist leaning down to kiss her skilled mouth. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Glad you liked it.”

I help her to her feet and kiss her neck, her chin, the tip of her nose. “Understatement.”

She curls into me and I hold her. Close physical contact is something I’ve missed out on. Stella was never warm and snuggly and I’d lost my mom when I was twelve. It sounds lame, but I craved the tender feel, and the warmth of a soft female body. Intimacy in the most basic sense of the word has been missing from my life for a long damn time. It feels nice just to hold her close.

“You cooked for me,” I murmur against her throat, as the start to our evening comes back to me.

“I was trying to help,” she whispers.

The sense of falling overwhelms me and I cling to her more, wrapping her tightly in my arms. “Thank you for the macaroni.” I kiss her temple, knowing I’m in deep shit.


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