Page 11 of Captured Innocence

It was as if there was no light to his darkness, no ability to leave the disturbing business he attended to every day. Maybe that’s why I’d been drawn to him in the first place, a true understanding of what our lives were like.

Structured.

Obedient.

Practiced.

Orchestrated.

There were dozens of terms I could use, but the point remained the same; we had only so much control over our lives. What I’d come to realize and finally accept was that my father might be able to manipulate where I went to school and the man I married, but he couldn’t regulate the passion I enjoyed.

I wanted something all to myself, my choosing and my decision and at this moment, there was nothing my father could do about it.

This was likely my one chance to back out, leaving without following through with my plan. The girl from a year ago would have fled, hiding under the covers.

Not this woman, the one who’d grown so much in a year.

This was exactly where I wanted to be.

With a man who’d already claimed me as his own.

CHAPTER 5

Sophia

Sex.

The thought of him ravaging me ignited a fire.

Did the muscular man who slipped his other arm around my waist have any understanding of why I was here? Or was he used to women falling all over him?

Mattia swung me from one side of the small dancefloor to the other, devouring me with his eyes. I continued to tingle all over given how in tune he was to the wild music, but I sensed his need increasing with every passing minute. In his dark suit he appeared regal, but I detected a twisted streak in him similar to the one I had in me. As the electricity crackled, I could swear others in close proximity were affected, struggling to keep breathing normally.

The dance became more passionate as the seconds dragged into minutes. Suddenly there was no one else in the room, barely any sound whatsoever. There was only the two of us and our toxic needs, desires that could eventually land us in hot water. I doubted either one of us cared at this point.

He spun me around in several circles, studying me so intently he didn’t blink a single time. I knew better than others that he was a cold-blooded killer with ice in his veins. From what I’d heard, he was a man who’d been born without a conscience. Perhaps our connection was unholy, what I had planned truly sinful in the eyes of God, but he was someone who could understand my needs and the horrors of growing up in a family where every boy was turned into a vile man. Maybe that’s one reason I’d gravitated toward him.

I’d heard all the rumors, the terms Satan and the devil reincarnated used by all the people in town, often the only thing they could talk about. As if my brother was any different, both damaged creatures and products of fathers who were monsters.

The pulsing lights changed color, the dark red adding a seductive feeling to the empty floor. I gripped his shoulder, moving with him as he danced perfectly in time to the beat, shocked when he dipped me seconds later, holding me in place before lowering his body against mine. The move was so unexpected my breath was stolen, something that could be considered romantic if I didn’t know better. He was testing me, pushing my boundaries just like I was doing to him.

When he jerked me back into position, I dared accept the challenge, taking my time brushing my fingers down his chest. For some reason, that’s the moment I reminded myself that I’d never been serious with a boy, at least not in the ways I’d seen on television and in the movies. I was out of my element, suddenly uncertain of my moves.

His chest rose and fell as his breathing became more erratic, his nostrils flaring as he attempted to take deep breaths. I kept my head tilted, clamping my fingers around his shirt. Then I dared to allow myself another touch, sliding my index finger past the opening from one button on his shirt to another. The second the tip touched his skin, the end was seared, another jolt of current slamming into my system.

He lowered his head, his lips dangerously close. My pulse raced. When he fisted my hair, pulled my head at an awkward angle, I could tell he was searching for any fear. I had none. I pursed my lips, rising onto my tiptoes until I managed to press our lips together.

“My little flower is perfect,” he whispered. Then he captured my mouth, crushing his body against mine. The feel of his throbbing cock sent a wave of tingles dancing down the backs of my legs. Being in his arms was exactly as I remembered, his hold remaining powerful. Unable to breathe, I moaned into the kiss as he pressed my lips open, his tongue finding mine.

No one had ever called me perfect. I swooned in his hold, cognizant that it seemed all time stopped, the air surrounding us dense, the scent of sex all around. He dominated my tongue, sweeping his back and forth as he ground his hips slowly. Then just as the incredible moment had begun, he pulled away by a few inches.

“Is that what you wanted, princess? A reminder of what we’ve already shared?” he asked, the gravelly sound sending a rumble straight to my toes.

“I… you think you know me.”

“Don’t I?”

He pulled away, lifting my arm over my head and spinning me in a full circle before yanking me against him again.

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