Filthy Beautiful Lies (Filthy Beautiful Lies #1) (11 page)

After paying for my sister’s care, I still have several hundred thousand dollars in the bank. And I’m living expense-free. I should enjoy it, right? Only I can’t. That’s not me. I’ve never taken a hand-out in my life.
"It’s not about the money, I just need something to do – I can’t lounge around all day with the only thing to do is go shopping with Marta using your credit cards. I want something for me. A purpose." Just saying it out loud renews my decision.

He takes another thoughtful sip of his wine, his full lips resting on the edge of the glass more distracting than it should be.
"If that’s what you want. What kind of job?" he asks.

"
I don’t know. Maybe at a coffee shop, or restocking books at the library. It doesn’t matter. Just something that gets me out of the house."

"
You’re welcome to get a job, as long as you’re home in the evenings when I am."

I nod. That sounds good to me too. I’ve come to enjoy his company at night. My boredom is isolated to the daytime hours. I didn’t enjoy sitting alone in this too big house with too many thoughts running rampant through my head. It isn’t healthy.
"Thank you."

"
What did you do today?" he asks, like he usually does.

"
I read, went for a swim." I shrug and focus on my wine. I don’t want to tell him that in the hours before he gets home, I shower and get myself ready, taking extra time to blow dry my hair and put on the dark colored lingerie that Marta insisted he’d like. It’s like even my bras and panties are mocking me, whispering against my skin that he’s not interested.

"
Hey, what’s wrong?" He lifts my chin to meet his concerned gaze.

"
Nothing." I straighten my shoulders, shaking the feelings away. There’s no reason to feel rejected. If anything, I should be relieved. But if the situation were different – if I wasn’t here under these pretenses, I’d still no doubt feel rejected by his lack of interest. He’s a beautiful, charming, wealthy man. I guess it was dumb to believe that a man like him would be interested in someone like me.

His eyes hesitantly leave mine and though I can sense he wants to press the issue further, he closes his mouth and refills my wine glass. 

"What happened at work today?" I recall him saying he’d had a rough day.

His eyes harden and he looks out at the dark blue water, growing quiet. It occurs to me that I don’t really know what he does. He’s very private about his business.
"Nothing with work, it was actually something…personal that popped up unexpectedly. I need to go to New York and take care of it."

"
New York? When?" Of course what I really want to know is what personal matter he could have in New York, since I know virtually nothing of his past.

He shrugs.
"Soon. Maybe this weekend." His tone tells me its not something he wants to discuss, though I don’t like the thought of him leaving.

I want to get back the flirty, playful attitude that seems to have faded with my complaints about boredom and whatever personal drama had Colton frowning out at the ocean.

"I have an idea," I announce, hopping up from my chair. "Stay here."

He nods, and watches me retreat through the glass door.

I jog upstairs and search through my toiletries until I find it.

I’m slightly winded when I make it back outside and Colton’s eyes drop to see what I’ve gone to retrieve. I hold up the bottle of oil.
"I thought you could use a little relaxation." I wave the massage oil temptingly in front of him and smile.

He eyes me curiously like he’s trying to figure out my motives. It never occurred to me that he’d assume I was doing this out of obligation. It was a simple gesture – something nice you’d do for a
friend, or a boyfriend when he’d had a trying day.

"
Strip," I order, pointing to his dress shirt. I won’t let him turn this into something weird.

He complies, watching me while he unbuttons and shrugs out of the shirt. Even though I should be used to seeing him in various
states of undress by now, but each time, his masculine beauty hits me full force. His toned chest and chiseled abs look positively lickable in the glowing moonlight.
Focus, Sophie
.
Things aren’t like that between you two
. I take a deep breath and motion for him to turn over and lay on his stomach. After dropping the shirt to the deck, he rolls on his lounger, lying flat for me.

Without thinking, I straddle him, sitting right on his butt and draping one leg on either side of his hips.
"Am I too heavy?" I ask.

"
You’re fine," he says. He folds his arms under his chin, making his shoulder muscles bulge.  

Dripping some of the fragrant lavender scented oil into my
hand, I rub my palms together to warm it before spreading it over his back. His frame is so broad that my small hands seem to barely make a dent in the expanse of canvas I want to cover. At first I think he’s incredibly tense and I tell him to relax.

"
I am," he mumbles.

And then I realize he’s just rock hard with muscle.
Geez
. I splay my hands across his upper back, rubbing steadily. I’m unaccustomed to touching a man so intimately. His skin is smooth and lightly tanned and I love the feel of him under my hands.

I rub my hands up his neck and into his hair, massaging his scalp and he groans. I’m all too aware of how I’m sitting perched on top of him. My center is resting against his firm backside and the seam of my shorts pressing against my cleft. I
squirm the tiniest bit, trying to adjust the way I’m sitting, but it only puts additional friction between my thighs. My clit begins to throb in time with my accelerating heartbeat.
Shit. I’m horny.
I blame it on too much wine, too much warm male perfection underneath me.  

I rise to my feet, needing to separate myself from his tempting body.
"Flip over," I tell him. I didn’t get to rub his shoulders properly in that position. I straddle him once again – this time sitting across his thighs.

With Colton lying flat on his back, I massage his shoulders, then his firm biceps. His eyes slip closed, his mouth softens as a relaxed expression overtakes his face. I can ogle him properly in this position. And I do.
From his handsome face, shadowed with a hint of dark stubble, to the thick column of his throat, down his smooth chest, the delectable grooves in his abs, to the trail of fine hair that disappears under his dress pants.

Touching his solid arms is not helping my libido. If anything, my core heats up even more and I realize I’m becoming wet. I release a grunt of frustration and his eyes open and find mine. I realize my hands, seeming to have a mind of their own,
are now rubbing his chest, brushing over his flat nipples and down further to trace his abs. He releases a soft hiss. My body floods with sexual awareness like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I’m desperate to feel his hands on my body, to be consumed by the deep, hungry kisses I remember.

Colton watches me with dark eyes, his breathing shallow and rapid, much like mine.

Glancing down, I see his cock is half hard and rising the closer my hands get to his lap. My heart rate speeds up as this moment takes on a deeper meaning. I’m perched atop him, tending to him, and we’re bathed in moonlight with the soft sound of waves lapping lazily behind us. It’s perfect.

Without pausing to think, I reach for his belt buckle and undo the stiff leather, my fingers trembling as I open his pants and ease down the zipper. His cock flexes beneath the confines of his black boxer briefs and I release a tiny whimper. I want to coat my hands in oil and slide them up and down his solid length, to hear him growl out my name and watch him lose all his perfect control and come on his hard belly.

My panties are soaked and my heartbeat is pounding in all my pulse points. Just as my fingers dip inside his waistband to reach for his cock, he grabs my wrist and stops me.

"
You don’t have to do that." His voice is soft, but the hold on my wrist is firm.

I’m breathless and turned on and the harsh sting of rejection is like a slap to the face. It’s totally unexpected and more brutal than ever imagined. He doesn’t want me touching him. I rise to my feet on unsteady legs, Colton’s eyes following my movements.  The wine creates a sour pit in my stomach and my head is spinning.
"Why did you bring me here? I want the truth." I hate that my voice is too high and shaky.

His eyes dart away from mine.
"Companionship." He’s holding something back. And I want to know what. I watch him for a second longer. He adjusts himself, tucking his huge erection back inside his pants and pulling up the zipper.

"
What is this…this arrangement?" I toss my hands up in the air, frustrated, both sexually and emotionally beyond belief.

"
Don’t push me, Sophie."

My name on his lips is a warning, but I press on.
"Just tell me you don’t want me here. Send me away." I can see his desire for me as clear as day. I think he does want me, which makes him denying us both all the more confusing.

"
There are things about my past you don’t understand," he says, his tone low and calm, but his face holds an expression of silent agony. 

"
Then tell me. I’m sharing your home, your bed – I’m here for another five months. Are we really going to keep ignoring this?"

"
Ignoring what?" he growls, his voice rough.

My gaze wanders to his lap and I unconsciously lick my lips.
Crap
.

If he’s going to act like he’s unaffected, then so am I.
Pushing my legs into action, I rush inside, suddenly desperate to be away from him. I dart up the stairs, slamming the master bedroom door closed behind me.

This is the most confusing arrangement I’ve ever been part of. I might not have wanted a physical relationship when I first came here, but ever so slowly, Colton’s gentle demeanor and quiet nature won me over. I want him to feel about me the way I do about him. I want to explore these new feelings of arousal bubbling up inside of me.

Tearing my shirt off my overheated skin, I drop it to the floor. After turning on the shower, I push down my shorts and panties, and step under the spray of the lukewarm shower.

Colton is an asshole.
A sexy, yet evil man. I wasn’t even asking for anything in return, I’d just wanted to touch him tonight, innocently at first, and then well, not-so-innocently, but even that was off-limits. It was a harsh wake-up call about my arrangement with this man. As I scrub my body under the warm water, I decide to move my things into one of the guest rooms. I don’t care about his need for
companionship
.

As I finish washing myself, I realize I’m still much too overheated and turned on. My nipples are puckered tight and my body is begging for a release. I run one hand down my stomach, cupping the sensitive flesh between my legs and release a strangled groan. I rarely touch myself like this, feeling unsure and awkward about it most of the time. Tonight is not one of those times. I need this release like I need my next breath. Lowering myself to the stone bench just out of the direct spray of water, I spread my legs and touch the slippery folds, surprised to feel how wet I still am. 

My fingertips pick up speed, circling and rubbing my clit while dirty thoughts of Colton push into my mind. Rubbing my nipples with one hand while my other stimulates the firm nub at my center.

Sensing I’m no longer alone, my eyes fly open to discover Colton standing across from me, watching me pleasure myself through the glass shower wall. His eyes wander my naked body and I snap my legs together. The high I’d pushed my body toward comes barreling down, my orgasm vanishing before it has the chance to reach its peak.

Holy fuck.

The sight before me changes everything.

I’d assumed all along that Sophie didn’t want me touching her. But after tonight when I’d stopped her and removed her hands from my lap, she’d come upstairs and was now pleasuring herself. Pushing her away had been the hardest damn moment of my life. I didn’t want her touching me out of some strange sense of obligation, or because she thought she owed me. But her flushed cheeks, and swollen pussy tell me instantly she hadn’t been doing anything out of obligation. Sophie wanted me.

The realization rings like a gunshot in my ears. I can’t think, can’t see straight. All I can do is
stare at her while my blood pumps out of control in my veins. She’s enchanting and different, like an exotic animal I could observe for hours on end.

Before I can even process what I’m doing, my pants and boxers are around my ankles and I’m kicking them off. Stepping under the warm water, I offer her a hand and Sophie accepts, rising to her feet to stand before me completely nude and wet.

Goddamn
.

The slick of her warm skin against mine is the best feeling in the world. We’ve been building toward this for too damn long.
Living in the same close quarters, sharing a bed, dining together, all the while avoiding the sexual tension building between us. I’d thought it was one sided, but seeing the evidence of her arousal is too much. I’m hard as a fucking rock. I want to bury myself balls deep inside her sweet body and never let her go. Those are dangerous thoughts.

"
You wanted me," I say, looking in her eyes.

She blinks up at me, her blue eyes softening.

"Say it," I command.

"
I… I want you…" she breathes.

My mouth crashes against hers, our tongues tangling wildly. Damn, I’d forgotten how soft and lush her lips were. She tastes of wine and I devour every bit of her I can, my hands slipping down her curves to grip her ass and haul her closer. Running my hands over the round globes of flesh, Sophie tilts her hips, pressing her groin closer to mine.
Fuck
.

She wants this as badly as I do, which doesn’t make our situation any easier or less confusing. It’s a mind fuck. A battle I know I’m going to lose. I am a man pushed to my breaking point. I can’t walk away. I won’t leave Sophie to deal with the aftermath of my rejection. And that’s what it had been. I’d been denying my want of her for weeks. I’d held myself back from taking something that wasn’t mine. But tonight, when she’d reached for my belt, I realize now that had been her decision.

The spray of warm water hits my back, bringing me back into the moment. My blood is rushing in my ears and my heart is pounding. I want nothing more than to feel the heat of her soft curves molding to my chest and I pull her tighter against me.

The whisper of her hot breath rushing against my neck is more intimate than expected. Her body is pressed tightly to mine. She’s giving herself to me. That knowledge is a potent thing,
but I won’t abuse my power.  I pull a deep breath into my lungs and vow to go slow – to take my time. If she’s letting me touch her, I will make damn sure this is good for her.

The press of her heavy breasts against my chest is too much to resist, I bring my hands up and cup her tits, unable to wait any longer. They’re firm and soft at the same time and when my thumbs graze her nipples her breath shudders against my neck. I rub them back and forth, slowly, letting her get used to me touching her. Sensing she wants more, I give them a little tug and her whimper punctuates the silence beautifully.

"I want to watch you touch yourself," I breathe against her neck.

Her eyes perk up to mine and she chews on her lower lip. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed that I caught her. Shit, she caught me watching porn, preparing to jerk myself off the other night, even though neither of us spoke about it.

She doesn’t respond, but I take her right hand in mine, the hand she’d been using to touch herself, and place it between her legs. A heavy sigh falls from her lips as I press her fingers into the rosebud of her clit. "Feel how swollen your clit is." I press our joined fingers harder against her. "Touch your pussy for me. Make it feel good," I whisper.

Her fingers begin to circle and her breath falters in her chest. I keep my hand on hers so that both of us are pleasuring her. I watch her eyes slip closed and a look of bliss overtakes her face. Breathless moans push past her lips as her pace builds. She’s so incredibly worked up and ready,
its sexy as hell.

I feel like a fucking fool for waiting. I’d assumed all these weeks, ever since I brought home the bottle of oil that she thought was lubricant, that she wouldn’t welcome my touch. I’m not some sick, sadistic Dom that gets off on the thought of forcing a woman to submit. Knowing
she wants this every bit as much as me changes everything. Well, almost everything. She is still a virgin, and I’m still… I push the thought away. I will deal with my past later. Nothing will spoil this moment with a wet, naked and willing Sophie in my arms.

Her eyes are wild, uninhibited like I’ve never seen before. I fucking love it. Her movements grow urgent.
Desperate. Uneven breaths push past her lips. She’s rubbing her clit in tiny circles, making me ache to take over, when all of a sudden her movements still and she releases a frustrated sigh.

My heartbeat slams to a stop.
"What’s wrong?"

"
I can’t come without my vibrator," she whispers, her voice a hoarse plea and her mouth turned down in a pout.

The hell she can’t. The alpha male inside me perks up his ears and beats on his chest. Suddenly watching her unravel is the only thing on my mind.
"I’ve got you, sweetness." She’ll come so hard she’ll forget her own damn name.

She shakes her head.
"I’ve tried…I get close, but…"

I meet her eyes. I don
’t need some damn toy to get her off, but if the safety net of a toy is more comfortable than having me touch her I have no problem going to retrieve it. "Where is it?"

"At home. I don’t have it here."

Well that settles that.
"You’re telling me that you’ve never had an orgasm either on your own or with a partner?"

"
There was only one partner before you and…" her voice trembles.

I hush her with the press of my lips to hers. Knowing I’m going to be the first man in so many ways makes all my blood rush south.

"How in the fuck did you learn to suck cock like that?"

Her cheeks grow rosy and she looks down at the marble floor between our bare feet.

"Answer me, sweetness." I tilt her chin up to mine.

Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as she struggles to make eye contact.
"I might have watched a few porn videos before the auction, just to be sure I knew how."

Holy shit
. Trained by porn stars, yet as pure and sweet as they come. I can’t escape the growl of satisfaction that murmurs from my throat.

She bites down on her plump lower lip, causing my erection to strain as I imagine her mouth around my
cock, and the feeling of the gentle tug of her teeth against my skin.

"
Just relax and breathe for me, okay?"

She nods, her shoulders dropping just slightly as she inhales.
"I’ve never…I’ve been close a few times. I think."

"
Do you trust me?" I ask.

She blinks up at with solemn blue yes.
"Yes."

I can tell she means it and I like that.
A fuck of a lot.

"
Just relax and let me make you feel good, okay?" She’d probably put so much damn pressure on herself, or worse, listened to some asshole ex who didn’t know the clitoris from the g-spot and had psyched herself out. I had to believe there wasn’t anything wrong with her anatomy. The trick would be to get her brain to quiet down so that her body could just relax and enjoy.

She draws another deep breath and some of the tension in her posture falls away. 

"Can I touch you?" I whisper against the skin at her neck.

She nods enthusiastically.
"God, yes."

I swallow the heavy lump in my throat. I’m scared that if I start touching her, I won’t have the restraint to stop. But unable to keep myself from taking what I want, I slide my hand down her belly, finding her center slick and wet. It sends a jolt of desire straight to my dick, which leaps enthusiastically against her belly.

With my thumb pressing firmly over her clit, my index finger slides against her tight opening and I feel her flinch. I want to penetrate her so badly I can taste it.

Sophie grips me at the same time I begin rubbing the outside of her opening, teasing her. She moves her hand up and down my shaft.  Her tight grip is almost too much for me to handle. I’ve craved her touch for so long, it won’t take me long to come undone.

"Easy baby, go slow," I remind her. I want to draw this out, and I won’t last long if she keeps pumping my cock like that.

Sophie slows her pace, which allows some of the blood to flow back into my head, and I resume pleasuring her. Parting her folds, I find the swollen nub peeking out at me and using her own moisture, I caress her again and again. A breathy groan crawls up Sophie’s chest and escapes past her parted lips. I touch her lightly, gently, taking my time and getting to know what she likes. Her body trembles against mine as she fights to remain standing.

Locking one arm around her waist, I continue my assault. My mouth moves to her breasts and I lick one nipple and then the other.

I press my finger forward. She’s slippery and soaking wet, and even though she’s as tight as a glove, my finger slides in easily. A ragged moan tangles in her throat and my lips crash down on hers.

I drag my finger in and out of her molten heat and feel her flex around my knuckle. "You want me to fuck this tight little opening?" Her groan of desperation is too much. I can’t even let myself think about how good she’ll feel around my cock, or I’ll come too fast and embarrass myself.

She inhales sharply and watches me while I slowly but carefully add a second finger. Her body grips me and her eyes slip closed as a little whimper falls from her mouth. 

I curl my fingers upward and press down on her clit. She cries out, her body quaking in my arms as she comes. The sight of her coming on my hand pushes me over the edge, and a hot stream of semen spurts to the tile floor between us, marking Sophie’s belly in the process. I growl out my release, burying my face in her neck and biting down softly to keep from moaning.

"
Fuck
."

When I look up, she’s smiling at me. Her blue eyes dance on mine and her face is pink. She looks happy – completely and utterly happy and satisfied. Even though I love it, it makes me feel like an even bigger ass for denying her touch for so long. My mouth captures hers again and I kiss her hungrily, taking my time to explore every inch of her tongue with mine.

Once we both come down from the high of our climaxes, I realize the water has cooled around us. I crank up the hot water and wash Sophie’s supple skin using a bottle of body wash from the shelf. She relaxes into my touch, letting me rub her shoulders, down her back and even between her legs. Her eyes find mine and we share a silent understanding. Even though our circumstances are anything but normal, I can tell this is our new normal. It’s what we’re both choosing. It scares me to think how compatible we are.

I’d been trying like hell to hold her at a distance – to keep her separate from my personal life – but there’s no denying it, she’s all I think about. She’s all I want. Though it’s entirely honest, the realization scares me. And it feels nice to be touched.
Even if it’s not real.