Her cheeks are stained with a delicate, rather attractive shade of crimson, as are her lips and the base of her throat. She swallows, and then nods. “A…little.”
“You can’t be. If this is going to work, you can’t even be a tiny bit frightened.” I crouch down at the foot of the bed, grabbing her by the ankles. Pulling her forward, I only let her go when her legs are either side of me, her feet almost touching the floor. I look her in the eye along the length of her beautiful, perfect body, and grin. “Sit up.”
She slowly props herself up on her elbows, and then pushes herself upright so her breasts are at my eyelevel. They are so incredible—I want to tear her shirt right off her back and go to town on them, licking and sucking, but I don’t. I need to make sure she understands what’s about to happen first. And what will never happen. “Look at me, sugar,” I whisper. “Look me in the eyes.”
Until now she’s been looking everywhere but at me. It’s so important that she knows I’m telling the truth when I say what I have to say now, though. If she doesn’t, she’s likely to flip the fuck out and panic and I don’t want that. I may be about to make some serious demands of her, but I want her to enjoy them all. I want her to come so fucking hard on my dick.
“Soph, tell me what you’re afraid of,” I say.
She bites down on her bottom lip so hard, the skin turns white. I reach up and press my index finger and middle finger against her mouth, making a disapproving sound. She releases her lip and takes a deep breath. “I’m…I’m afraid I’m not going to like not being in control. I’m afraid I won’t like being told what to do. I’m afraid—I—” she stumbles over what she wants to say, but I already know what it is. I give her a moment to finish, but when she doesn’t I complete the sentence for her.
“You’re afraid you’ll feel trapped and unable to escape. You’ll be frightened, because you think I’m going to treat you the way Raphael wants to treat you. To hurt you. To take something from you that you don’t willingly want to give.”
She looks away. Again I reach up, but this time it’s to gently turn her face back to me. “I’m not Raphael. I don’t like to hurt women. I would never, never force you to do something you didn’t want to. We’re going to push your limits, perhaps, but having those limits is okay. If you honestly don’t want to try something, then all you need to do is say so and that’s it.”
A slow smile gradually forms on her face. “So… we’re going to have a safe word?”
I laugh. “Sugar, ‘no’ is the only word you ever need to say. ‘No’ should never not be enough.” It makes the blood boil in my veins to think that she’s told someone no before and it hasn’t been enough. I’m sure she didn’t welcome Hector inspecting her to see if she was a virgin. I’m sure she didn’t consent to Raphael pawing all over her, breathing down her neck, telling her all the vile things he wanted to do to her. If he’d taken it further…if he’d actually… Fuck, I can’t even think about that. My rage would be a brutal, swift, consuming thing.
“Thank you,” she says softly. “No’s good enough for me.”
“Good. Now. Do you want to know what I’m afraid of?”
It’s very rare that Sophia looks shocked. She does now, though. It’s almost comical to be honest, but I can’t laugh because I actually am freaking out a little. Today isn’t the best day to tell her this; I know that. But the thing about perfect moments is you don’t know they’re perfect until they’ve already passed you by.
Fuck it. Here goes.
“I’m scared because I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it.” I sound confident as all hell when I tell her this, but my head actually feels like it’s about to implode. I only manage to sound that way, because it’s true. I am in love with her. It’s fucking inconvenient, and a genuine surprise to me, but it’s true.
Sophia’s eyes grow really round. She sits very still, not breathing or moving. Eventually, she says, “You’re not joking, are you?”
I shake my head.
“Well, fuck.”
“I know. Messed up, right?”
“Ha!” She stares at me, and I think she’s not really taking this in. Not believing me, anyway. I can tell by the mildly angry look on her face. “That’s really low,” she says. She laces her fingers together, gripping tightly, her knuckles blanching. “Why would you do that? Why would you tell me that?”
“Because…I’ve never told anyone before. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You’ve never told anyone you loved them before?”
“No. Never.”
“What about your…” I know she was going to say my father, and I know she then realized how stupid that would be; I watch it all play out on her face. “What about your Uncle, then?” she says. “What about Ryan?”