The Devil's Plaything

“I thought it was clear, Sofía. I want you.”

18

Victor

She stares at me for a while before she shakes her head. Her body is still trembling, and I can’t help but find it sensual. The fire that rages in her eyes, the fear that trickles through her, everything about Sofía has turned me inside out. And I’m about to unravel her just the same.

My phone buzzes in my jacket pocket, and I pull it out before she can speak. My eyes scan the message, and my blood turns hot like a volcano about to erupt, and I’m not sure little Sofía will survive.

“Do you think I could ever want you?” Her question steals my attention and stills me for a moment. Each time we’ve been close to each other, there’s been electricity in the air. Even though she’s not supposed to be mine, I know I’ll take her.

“You mistake my statement as an option to you, Sofía,” I murmur, while leaning in and allowing my lips to trail along her chin, up toward her ear. A soft gasp falls from her lips the moment I suck the lobe into my mouth, my teeth grazing along the sensitive flesh. “Tell me, Sofía,” I murmur in her ear, and another shudder races through her.

“This… I… stop.” Her weak response is only further evidence that she does want me. As much as I do her.

“It’s been long enough, and you can’t deny each time I walk into the room you don’t feel it.” My voice is husky, filled with need. “Quiero oírte decirlo,” I taunt her—I want to hear you say it—needing her to say no. To tell me she doesn’t want this.

“Please let me go, Victor.” This time, she sounds more convinced, but I’m certainly not. I can’t be, because if I believed her words, then I’d be a stupid man. And that’s undoubtedly not who I am.

“Look into my eyes, Sofía.” My demand sends a cool shiver through her. Goose bumps rise on every inch of her skin, and I want to trail my tongue over them, tasting the caramel of her flesh. I wonder what her cunt looks like, if it’s smooth and succulent, or if she’s trimmed, tight and warm. Thoughts race through my mind and I’m lost in them when I feel her hand on my face. It’s not a harsh touch, it’s gentle, yet demanding at the same time.

A contradiction.

“Victor.” The way she breathes my name sends desire coursing through me. Need that I haven’t felt in a long time. Her gaze shines, and I’m lost in those beautiful windows to her soul and the want shining in them. She’s fighting it. She’s strong, using all her restraint to not want me. “Please release me from your hold. I want to lie down.”

The gentleness of her request has me relenting. For the first time in years, in forever, I step back and allow a woman to control me. For far too long, I’ve been the monster, but for some reason, this woman brings out a kinder side to me, she tames the beast that rears within me, and I don’t know what to do with that.

“We still need to talk.”

Sofía pads to the bed, perching her ass on the edge of the mattress, and I watch as she settles with her legs crossed. The small shorts she’s wearing offer me a glimpse of white cotton panties beneath, and my cock is at attention, more so now than moments ago.

“Who is Rodrigo?” My question jars her. I see it the second his name leaves my lips. Her mouth falls open, but she shuts it tight, her lips pursed in concentration, and I watch in awe as her mind swirls with explanations that I know are all lies.

She’s attempting to come up with some made up story. Only, she doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. I’ve been trained to read liars and torture men for less. I was about to walk her into that asshole’s house tonight, but his threat was clear. The confirmation I got moments ago has violence thrumming in my veins. I’m ready to kill.

I run my index finger over my lips, while my thumb holds onto my chin. My other hand is shoved deep into the pocket of my slacks to keep from flinging something across the room. I can tell a liar when I see one. There are many tells on a person when they’re trying to come up with a story. Even the short delay in response informs me that she doesn’t want me to know about her past. About her secret. I wonder then if her father knows.

“Does Hector know about him?”

“No!” She snaps, her gaze pinned on me. Her delicate hands that are always so steady, tremble with anxiety. She’s afraid of him. That angers me. I want her afraid of me; I’m the fucking asshole who can snuff her out within seconds.