Alistair’s mouth fell open as he looked Sophia over. She was wearing a sexy French maid costume made of black leather and white lace. The cupped bra displayed her breasts while a ruffled apron with petticoats tied over her hips barely concealed her naked skin underneath. Her long legs were encased in stockings held by lace garters.
He growled low in his throat as his cock woke up and applauded as she waved a duster on his nose. How can this be possible?
She pulled him inside the room and moaned lightly, locking the door behind him.
He stood there dumbfounded, watching as she wandered around the room, pretending to dust things.
“Clean that lamp again,” he ordered.
She looked over her shoulder, her yellow diamond eyes sparkling with mischief and flicked the duster carelessly away and lifted her hands to her hair, pulling her ink-black locks loose from the bun. She shook her head, letting the hair pour over her shoulders and down to the small of her back.
“Oh, my lord...” She stepped toward him and divested him of his jacket. Pouting, she murmured, “Let me hang your coat in its place, sir.”
She strolled to his dressing room and paused near an armchair, widened her stance, and looked over her shoulder, purposely biting her lip.
He noticed she was wearing black varnished stilettos and his mind went fuzzy with lust.
Sophia smiled and let his jacket fall to the floor.
“Oops!” She put a hand over her mouth. “How clumsy of me.”
Alistair swallowed visibly and his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he saw she was naked under her petticoats. “Pick it up,” he demanded hoarsely.
“Yes, my lord.”
She bent over, her buttocks thrust up in the air. Flipping her hair over one shoulder, she looked at him through half open eyes, licking her mouth. She ran her fingers down over the back of her thigh.
Grabbing his jacket, she set it on his armchair. Then, cocking her hip to the other side, she put her thumb into her mouth as she looked demurely at him. And sucked it.
He grunted and walked toward her.
Sophia spread her legs wider and bent down again. She tensed slightly as Alistair stepped up behind her. She had never role-played a fantasy like this.
“Oh, Sophia, you shouldn’t have.” He unzipped his jeans and shoved it down his hips and grasped her hips firmly, jerking her back against his arousal.
A groan left him as he rubbed his hard manhood along the cleft of her buttocks.
That first touch of flesh reverberated as a shock through Sophia. She moaned and was caught off balance by the position, but his strong hold kept her steady.
His hard cock was feverish, instantly sparking flashes of desire whenever it touched her. Pure undiluted lust made her dizzy.
“Alistair,” she moaned.
Slowly she stood back up, flexing her legs, caressing and sliding against him. His face instantly dipped down, burying in the hollow of her neck, taking a deep breath.
“I love your smell,” he murmured. “White roses, orange with vanilla. Makes me want to eat you.” Again she rubbed her buttocks over his arousal and Alistair groaned, “I want you. Now.”
He didn’t give her a chance to comply, as he lifted her up high in the air, turning her in his arms as if she were light as a feather and put her down on the bed. He shoved down his jeans and ripped off his shirt, throwing it behind him. His eyes flamed green.
Alistair stroked his long fingers over her legs and gripping them, he pulled her to the edge of the bed. And thrust.
She moaned at the sudden onslaught, as he filled her. Each time they were together, it was like lightning washed over her.
Alistair held still for a brief moment, letting her adjust to his girth. Her legs wrapped around his lean hips and she locked her feet over his buttocks. He ran his hands over her thighs again. “You have strong, beautiful legs,” he whispered to her. “Hold on to me. Don’t let go,” he ordered as he withdrew, only to thrust hard in long even strokes, pushing deeper into her.
His hands glided up over her and bared her nipples, pinching them into hard buds and he ordered, “Put your hands over mine.”
Sophia put her hands over his and he changed position, covering hers with his. He stilled inside her and his lips split in a devilish smile as he said, “Pinch your nipples.”
Sensations exploded from the touch as her fingers, mingled with his. She gasped obeying his command and arching on the bed.
Alistair groaned in approval. One of his hand moved down to her hip to control her body, as he restarted to pump into her in hard thrusts. The other hovered over her clitoris, tantalizing her senses.
“Ah.” Her body clenched around his as he rode her to the edge of her desire. “Yes, please.”
Their moans mingled in his bedroom, growing louder with each long plunge of his hard length inside her.
Suddenly, her body tensed on the bed, arching beautifully before him as the tremors of release took over her and Sophia screamed his name in delight.
She tightened almost painfully around him, and Alistair grunted loudly as his orgasm took control of his body. He stiffened and burrowed deep in her body in several hard jerks as her name ripped from his throat in a grunt.
Alistair fell over her, leaning on his forearms, as his violent thrusts fired a last shot of desire through his body, he gasped, almost incoherently, “I love you.”
Sophia blinked those wondrous yellow eyes at him and sighed breathlessly, still in a far away wonderland.
“I love you,” he repeated, kissing her lightly on the lips and studied her face as he laid down beside her, untying her bra and apron and flinging them on the floor beside the bed. He gathered her in his arms, waiting for her to come back to earth, thinking of how much he had changed in so little time.
He was thirty-four years old when he met Sophia over a loan contract meeting. Three days later he had spent his thirty-fifth birthday alone, sulking in this very room, drinking himself into a stupor to dull the pain and guilt he felt for his daughter’s death, wishing he was dead, too. Now, the mere idea of not having a chance to live and share his life to the fullest with Sophia, pained him.
Tell her, Alistair Connor, tell her. You can’t avoid this issue forever.
Based on her behavior of late, he tried to analyze how she might feel about his past and his story with Heather. Outwardly, she’d shown only joy when with him, never asking about his wife. But privately, he knew she had unresolved feelings, that she was conflicted. Maybe because she still loves Gabriel.
Sophia rubbed her cheek on Alistair’s shoulder and her finger drew random designs on his wide chest.
He watched as the fire in the hearth danced over her body, illuminating and shadowing it in beautiful hues of orange.
Unsure if he was doing the right thing, he mustered his courage and, paving the path to the story of his past, said softly, “You were the best thing that could have happened in my life.” He tightened the arm wrapped around her waist. “There is something in you that keeps my evil locked deep inside.”
“Here you go again.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes. She knew she would find them troubled. There were so many things he kept buried inside him. “I don’t have this power, Alistair. It is all in here.” She poked at his chest. “I have never seen this darkness of yours. It eludes me. Don’t demonize yourself.”
He sighed and pushed up, carrying her with him, sitting reclined on the cushioned headboard. He shifted until she was nestled between his bent legs, sideways on his chest. “You could say I had an alter ego.” He paused and a bitter laugh left his lips. “I hope you’re not afraid of horror stories. It’s time you met the monster, Sophia.”