Shades of Trust

Chapter 32-1

Chapter 32

Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse

7:44 p.m.

Ethan stood in front of the bookshelf in his sitting room, holding a glass of port in his hand. Still as a statue, he studied the photograph in the silver frame from where Sophia smiled at him for a long time.

She was perfect for me. He drank his wine in a gulp, putting the glass carefully on the side table next to the sofa. Why is it that the women I love don’t love me back? Why do I have to live with these ghosts in my life? It’s all Calista’s fault.

He stepped uncertainly toward the bedroom, where the stunning brunette he had hired was taking a nap. His azure gaze swung back to the photo, a fierce longing piercing his body, almost causing him to curl in pain. How can two women look so much alike?

He picked up his phone and speed-dialed a number.

“Mr. Ashford?”

“Scott, is she home?”

“Yes, sir.”

He remained unsure if he should assuage his curiosity or not. He shoved a hand in his sun-kissed brown hair and mustered his courage. “Is she going out with him?”

A few moments of silence ensued while Ethan’s assistant pondered how insane the whole situation was and what was he doing in all this.

“Is she?”

“Sir, she arrived at home accompanied by Mr. MacCraig. And he hasn’t left. Y—Yet.”

Whore. A fierce rage took control of Ethan. “Double the vigilance and keep me informed. I want to know about every step she takes.”

Ethan switched off the phone and stalked up to the woman on the bed, shaking her. “Sophia.”

She pushed her black-dyed hair from her face, and her eyes with yellow contact lenses blinked at him. “Am I late for dinner?”

“Go to the guest room and have your dinner there,” he ordered. “If I need you again later, I’ll call you.”

A fake Sophia will not do. I need the real one. He turned without a second glance and entered his bathroom, banging the door. And she, I will have.

Atwood House

8:00 p.m.

It seemed eons since Alistair had cuddled after s*x and it felt right and good. Wonderful. He marveled at her soft, creamy skin, caressing it with the tip of his fingers. “Tell me. You planned this?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“When?”

She rolled over on her stomach to look at him and propped her chin on her hand. “This afternoon. A few minutes before I called you.”

She was a vision of paradise with her black hair falling down her back, her lips a deeper red from his kissed, legs raised and crossed at the ankles. “You’re still afraid of commitment? Any kind of commitment?” she asked.

“It’s not—” He stopped the lie at her pointed look. “Nae. I’m not afraid. That’s not the word. I’m fearful. I was badly hurt in my only serious relationship.”

“I understand.” She raked her fingers through her hair and tilted her head to the side, before rolling onto her back, staring at the cerulean-green canopy of her bed. “When I became a widow, I wore my wedding band for a long time.”

Quite the opposite here. “Nae, Sophia. I don’t think you understand. My case is quite different from yours.” He pushed up on his elbow. His fingers appeared to have an itch only her body could soothe. “My marriage wasn’t a happy one. I stopped wearing my wedding ring long before Heather died. I swore on Nathalie’s grave, I’d never make the same mistake again.”

She stared at him, astonished. “My God, Alistair.”

“You haven’t—” He sighed. “Nobody told you? Alice?”

“No, I didn’t let her.”

“Why not?” he asked surprised.

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer. Why not?” he insisted.

She considered her answer carefully and looked at him directly in the eyes. “A story has many sides. If you ask my in-laws about what happened between Gabriel and I, they have a version. My brother, another one. And so on. What version would matter to you? Theirs or mine?”

“I see.” He stared back at her, his eyes so dark the green was almost gone. So many emotions swirled in them: rage, fear, pain, shame. But not a drop of love. “So you expect me to tell you what happened.”

“No. I don’t have any expectations concerning your past. Just don’t let your other experiences mar our relationship.” She combed his hair tenderly with her fingers. “Tell me when and if you feel like it.” She smiled at him mischievously, and pushing up on all fours, crawled over him and straddled him at the waist. Her hands rested on her knees. She eyed him, her head c****d to the side and she wet her lips.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, his lips curling.

A cat-that-got-the-cream smile appeared on her lips. She crossed her arms in front of her body, her hands on her hips, and lifted them slowly, skimming her abdomen, up her torso, brushing her n*****s, uncrossing them when she reached her shoulders to stroke her hair at her nape. She lifted her raven strands and let them fall in a cascade.

Fuck. His c**k twitched and his lust awakened again to applaud the sensual show. Hmm, the fastest recovery of my life.

Eyes half-closed, she stretched her arms over her head, bent them, and gripped her elbows, undulating her body. She licked her lips and bit the lower one.

Witch! He went mad with lust, grabbed her by the ribs and lowered her for a passionate kiss, flexing his hips and grinding his erection against her buttocks. His hands ran over her back, grabbed her long hair, wound it around his wrist, and softly yanked it back.

She bit his lip, sucked at it, and moved to kiss his jaw.

He moaned when she rimmed his ear and then nipped his earlobe.

“My turn,” she whispered in his ear.

“My pleasure,” he replied, huskily.

“Yes,” she breathed, “your pleasure.” And she glided down his body, letting him feel her soft skin. She kissed his chest and then a n****e, playfully biting it, eliciting a groan. She circled it with her tongue and then did the same with the other.

“More. Bite.” His fingers tangled in her hair and placed her mouth on his n****e, commanding, “Bite.”

She nipped it.

He groaned and demanded again, “Harder.”

Sophia bit him and he moaned out loud. She repeated it on the other. He grunted.

“You have a wonderful body. A classical sculpture.” Her voice was reverential. Her hands caressed his ribs and chest as she lavished his abs with kisses. When her tongue circled his navel and dipped in, his breath hitched. She knelt between his thighs. Her hands continued trailing down him and she sat on her heels.

Alistair watched her as her eyes flamed.

She twirled her hair and threw it over a shoulder. Then she licked her lips and rested her hands lightly on his hips.

He tensed and fisted his hands.

Without taking her eyes off him, she lowered her body. Her lips parted and hovered just a breath away from his strained erection. Her tongue darted out and licked the head.

“Aye!” He pushed up on his elbows to have a better view of the goddess tormenting him. His legs widened to make room for her. This must be the sweetest torture on earth.

She gripped the base of his c**k and engulfed him deep in her mouth.

He threw his head back with a roar and his neck stretched. He struggled not to thrust into her mouth.

One of her hands tightly stroked the base of his c**k and the other rolled his balls softly. She worked him leisurely, lost in the power of pleasing him. Her tongue circled and her mouth sucked, nonstop.

He groaned, unable to do more. His eyes were glued on the seductress in front of him.

She moaned and the vibration from it undid him. Before he lost control in her mouth, he pulled her away, up on the bed beside him, and rolled over her body, kissing her.

He stretched out his arm and snatched his wallet from the bedside table, his fingers groping for a condom. His brow furrowed when he didn’t find one. He broke the kiss to better search and he couldn’t believe his eyes. “f**k!” The expletive shot out of his mouth before he could think.

“What is it?” She startled.

“Condom.” He glanced at her. “Do you have one?”

She froze. “I’ve never bought…”

He sensed her tensing and withdrawing, but knew in that moment he would make her come, no matter what. He dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed and gripped her thighs, pulling her down in his direction. “Relax,” he demanded in a deep, low voice, putting her legs on his shoulders, “and enjoy it.”

He kissed her inner thigh and felt her muscles contract. When his tongue traced a light path toward her c**t, she pushed up to a seated position and fisted his hair.

His answering chuckle was filled with masculine satisfaction as he buried his mouth between her thighs.

Her eyes became hooded, her lips parted, her breath hitched, and her face grew rosier.

He grinned, eyes glued to hers, as she watched him lap her up.

She almost choked as a bolt of lightning shot through her entire body when he sucked her c******s into his mouth. She threw her head back, arching her breasts up in the air, panting.

He fondled them, his thumbs pressing and pulling the n*****s as she let out a strangled moan. He lowered her back onto the bed, his hand between her breasts, and latched his mouth greedily to her. Her smooth, bare skin felt wondrous under his mouth. His tongue entered her deep, feasting on her.

Her shaking legs, her uneven breathing, and her increasingly loud moans were all music to him. His tongue left her depths and concentrated on her c**t again, bringing his fingers to play, staring at her.

The moment the first finger sank into her, she softly cried his name, begging for release.

“Relax.” He lapped softly at her, slowing the rhythm. He withdrew his finger and heard her relieved breath. With no mercy, he plunged two fingers into her, diving in and out, as he sucked her c******s.

“You’re going to kill me,” she whispered, her hands shaking in his hair.

Alistair was about to explode, driven by the pleasure he was giving and by the power his caresses had over her. “Sophia,” he moaned in her folds, half in pain, half in pleasure. “I’m going to come on your rug.”

“Who. Cares.” She tugged him by the hair. “Just don’t stop.”

He gave a half-pained laugh and latched his mouth on her again, ravenous, making pressure, sucking and licking, his fingers curling to touch her upper wall, and stroking his straining, engorged erection.

“Oh. I’m…” She tensed under his mouth and rocked her hips against him, her fingers tangling and untangling on his hair. “Alistair, I’m…”

Also close, he growled against her, as she spasmed and contracted around his fingers. “Come,” he ordered.

Her legs trembled around his shoulder and neck, and like a band, Sophia came, all sensation, her pleasure all-consuming and burning.

Alistair felt a shock run through his whole body, shaking him with violence, and he shouted her name, coming so hard his legs were trembling now. He rested his head on her inner thigh, recovering his breath.

A deep, satisfied feeling came over him. He stroked her thigh and noticed that her eyes were closed. He lowered her legs from his shoulders and sat with her in his arms, stupefied at her reaction. “Sophia, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. She smiled lazily at him through half-closed eyes.

Alistair heard an amused tone in her throaty voice.

“It was not bad. Not bad at all.”

Not bad! He chuckled and held her tightly while her breathing returned to normal. Well, it was one of my best. He realized that making her come, caused him to climax. Amazing!

After a few silent minutes, Sophia pushed up on her elbow to kiss him and said with a sassy smile, “Time for a shower. Care to join me?”

Alistair watched with rapt attention as Sophia rose naked from the bed. With her long raven hair and gently swaying hips, she was temptation incarnate to him. It took everything he had to hold back when his dark and animalistic side longed to leap the distance between them and devour her senseless.

The woman has the kind of energy I like. He wanted her just as badly as if he hadn’t just come twice a short while ago. He couldn’t help but imagine how she would react if he were his usual self. “Too much of a temptation, and no condom, no sex.”