Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(28)
Sofie was taking a long time to answer me. She had a habit of this, and I couldn’t decide if she was thinking or avoiding. Either way, I had her answer. If she wanted me, it should have been an immediate yes. No thinking involved.
When she stilled my hands, I let them fall to the side of her, balancing myself on the edge of the wooden tabletop before I pushed off the workbench and glared at her. What was I doing? I had Malinda waiting for me in Vegas. I could have the woman who showed me the warehouse yesterday. I could have had any woman at Carrie’s. Why did I want this woman? What made her stand out? I hardly knew her, yet I found her infuriatingly attractive.
I spun away from her the second I didn’t hear an answer. I was used to being taken advantage of. What made Sofie different was she didn’t take. For once I wanted to freely give to someone, because she wasn’t throwing herself at me to consume her, but I couldn’t continue to play a game. Not with Sofie. Wound too tight from the break-in to her apartment, and suddenly tied up from her shut down, I needed some distance. I retreated to the house.
I hadn’t finished my workout, but I had a meeting at eleven with a commercial realtor. A cold shower was in order to rid my body of tension. It would help keep my muscles loose as the abrupt halt to my routine could lock them. Letting the cool double spray fill the tiled shower space, I kicked off my shoes, removed my shorts, and stepped under the icy pelts of penance. The cold shock to my skin raised my flesh, but my dick still pulsed in hopes of release. Bracing a hand on the tile, I gripped myself hard, as I’d been doing more often than I cared for with the return of Sofie in my life. I imagined her hands on me, knowing they would be gentler, hesitant, and much more exciting because of her innocence. Three rapid jerks and my seed was lost in the frozen spray. I spun in the space, noticing a reflection in the mirror, through the glass enclosure. Without the steam of a typical shower, the vision was crystal clear. Sofie was watching me.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I couldn’t help it. Look at him.
My contrition prayer was ridiculous, yet true. I couldn’t turn away. He sped from me outside, but I followed repentantly. I didn’t want things to end how they had. He had been kind to me. He brought me to his home. I couldn’t reconcile that it was ours, but I had to apologize. I shouldn’t have teased him. I shouldn’t have encouraged him. I just wanted to tell him I was thankful for what he had done last night.
When he entered the bathroom and removed his shorts at once, I couldn’t turn away. His body was a temple of perfection. His sculpted back, etched in muscles, would make angels jealous of the strength it possessed. I’d seen his arms in action, as they were bulging from his earlier ministrations against the punching ball. Veins enlarged, I sensed the blood streaming through his body. His backside was unlike anything I’d seen before. David, the famous statue in Italy, held nothing compared to the rounded perfection that was aimed in my direction. He didn’t turn around. He was obviously lost in his own thoughts.
Through the clear glass of the enclosure to an extra-large shower stall, I saw him lean forward then wrap his powerful hands around himself. It was erotic and sexual, rough and raw. Watching him pleasure himself was nothing I’d ever seen a man do before, and I could not drag my eyes away. The only willpower I had was to not enter the shower and takeover what he was doing. Although my brain steamed ahead of my body out in the garage, my body was humming so fiercely; I swore he could hear my sex vibrate in rhythm with him. He only stroked himself three times before I saw the strength of what he could produce wash down the drain. Something in me cried out for that lost opportunity, but I could not draw my eyes away from him holding himself. When he spun, I was caught, captured by the sudden heat in his eyes. The cobra was ready to strike and I was a willing prey. Hypnotized by his glare, he exited the shower while it still ran. He approached me, my body drowning with renewed desire.
“Were you watching me?” he growled. His voice hissed my name after the question. I didn’t even have the strength to nod. I willed his hands to touch me. The pulsing between my legs was beyond my control. I feared to move. I didn’t want it to end, actually.
“Did you like what you saw? Liked me touching myself?”
Again, I couldn’t answer. My eyes were trained on his, but my body had lost the will to reply. My hand twitched. If he didn’t touch me, I was going to have to take care of myself. Right. Now. The need was too great.
“If I touch you, will you come, Sofie?” The sound of my name, rolling off of his tongue, licked down the front of me and lapped across an area so sensitive I was ready to implode. I’ve read about it. Humans can self-combust. I was at that point when his hands removed my shorts, yanking them roughly down my thighs only enough that his large hand could slip between the apex of my legs and dive into me.
“Oh God,” I cried out, thanking the heavens in anticipation of release. I lunged forward at the invasion of his finger and clawed at his chest. It was seductively hostile, like he’d been the first time he touched me, in the hallway of the arena in Vegas. Yet somehow this was different. He stepped closer as his finger caressed the inside of me. Driving in deep, a second, thick digit met the first, and I took God’s name in gratitude again.
“Don’t thank God, Sofie, thank me,” he groaned, as his fingers rammed deeper as if digging for gold inside of me. They hit the treasure, and with a fierce flick, I did combust in a way I’d never experienced before. My knees gave out and I began to slump. Continuing for a second round, his fingers didn’t leave me as we crumbled to the bathroom floor. On my knees, thighs spread open, with my hands braced on his shoulders, my hips moved with the jabs and taps of his fingers that brought me to a second eruption, almost instantly.