Innocent in New York (10 page)

"She wished for it," he said in a whisper, gently letting go of her hands and moved to her hips.

"They act out fantasies." Sophia nodded, flicking her eyes at James over her shoulder.

"Yes. I want to know yours," he said.

"What if I don't have any?" she asked after a couple of moments.

"We'll find them together," he gave her hip a squeeze, "if you let me."

She could say no, say no and go back to her old life as
Sensible Soph
— where work took up most of her mind and time, and where most days seemed alike, safe and repetitive — until she met James. He asked her to follow him into his world, and her response was
—

"Yes."

With a finger beneath her chin, he steered her head to the side, and then his lips were on hers, demanding her attention, making her heart thump loudly. He'd barely given her a swift taste of his tongue brushing against hers when he ended the kiss and steered her head in the direction of the lovers again. The woman's body strained against her prison, pushing her breasts toward the man's mouth. He played with each, alternating using his tongue and fingers. Her knuckles turned white from grasping the silk, her body arched in a tight bow, her whimpers delicate in the dark room. She was close. The man stopped, denying her pleasure. He waited until the woman's back touched the mattress again before placing lazy kisses over her chest and smooth stomach. His kisses fell closer down her abdomen.

Sophia jerked, almost forgetting she was an audience. She found this too personal, wanting to turn away but James held her tighter, anchoring her.

"She's not allowed to come, not until he lets her."

"I can only imagine," Sophia murmured and glanced at him over her shoulder. He smiled with humor flashing in his eyes before they flickered past her to watch the lovers. Sophia mirrored him. The man drew his hands up his lover's legs, parting them as far as the restraints would allow. The woman's hands tightened around her silky bonds, her mouth open, panting, waiting,
wanting
. The erotic nature of the scene made Sophia dizzy, fueled by James's constant touch, his constant reminder of how damn good he could make her feel.

"You'll learn. You'll come apart so good," James assured her.

Sophia trembled. She couldn't hide her reactions; he was so close. "Please," she begged, "take me home."

James nipped her earlobe, his hold on her slowly withdrawing. He drew Sophia with him out of the room and in a different direction. A moment later, she heard a piercing scream coming from the place they just exited. James grasped her arm when she was about to head over there again.

"That wasn't from pain," he said, holding her gaze.

She looked toward the red and gold drapes, her heart in her throat still from the vibrant scream. She glanced around at the other people walking by, chatting as if they heard nothing out of the ordinary.

"He's been denying her pleasure for a long while, far longer than what we saw, and once it hits," he paused for a moment, "it can be exceptional."

Sophia nodded. She could understand that. James hadn't been that evil, but he had tried her patience, forcing her to keep from coming until he saw her fit for a reward, and it always left her dazed.

"This is one kinky circus." Sophia clutched his hand while they walked.

He quirked a smile. "The rooms with gold and red are free to visit, like the one we just saw. People either don't care about being watched, or they're driven by an audience."

"Driven…" Sophia copied. "They
seek
an audience?"

He gave her a peculiar stare, but didn't venture further. "The rooms with black drapes are strictly prohibited," he continued as he motioned to one as they passed. "Here, people want privacy. As you might have noticed, there are few of them."

Sophia nodded when he acknowledged her. "What happens to the rooms when they are…done?"

James stopped and turned to her. "Every room is properly cleaned. The sheets here are cleaner than
Monroe's
."

Sophia gaped. "Our rooms are the cleanest there is. We've run tests and everything."

James chuckled at her, "Let's call it even. But yes, everything is taken care of after a visit."

"Are you positive—"

James grasped her elbow and tugged her smack against him, shutting her up with a firm kiss.
Thank God
. She sighed, melting against him. Sophia responded by opening her mouth to take his tongue. She eagerly kissed him back for a few slow seconds, and then protested as his mouth slid to her neck. "Germaphobe?"

Sophia couldn't think straight when his tongue darted out to flick across a spot close to her ear, and then sucked on her skin. Warmth spread through her.

"I'm," she mumbled, but her words twisted into a moan.

He stopped, leaving her breathing harder and anxious for more. He watched her steadily, a deep reflection of dark humor embedded in his eyes. Winding her up and cooling her down.

"You like games," Sophia murmured against his jaw before she kissed him there. And secretive rooms with more than she could ever imagine.

"I like you." He brushed those God-given lips to her ear, giving more attention to a sweet spot that made her knees almost go out from beneath her. On the floor beneath them, she spotted a small group in the couch a few feet from the bar, watching James pull at her crumbling resolve. She gasped, straightened her posture, and released from James's touch. He flicked a look at the people below. "They're hoping we're heading for a red and gold room," he explained. "I think you're collecting followers." He took her hand and drew her closer to the rooms again.

He
was collecting followers more like it. On shivery feet, she kept up with him.

He showed her to a new room where a man stood restrained to a tilted wall, with a ball gag in his mouth, completely worshipping a latex clad redhead holding a whip in front of him. She acknowledged Sophia with a wink, causing her to blush, and next the woman cracked the whip against the man's chest. He convulsed and moaned.

"Oh," Sophia uttered, glancing at James over her shoulder.

"Dominatrix, Sophia," James chuckled. "I'm sure Lana would love to teach you a few tricks."

"Lana? You know her?"

"Quite well, actually, as well as her husband," he said, his gaze moving to the couple. "She's gained great success in the floristry industry, owning a rising brand and several shops."

Sophia looked at him in bafflement. "She's a florist? I wouldn't have guessed!"

James smiled. "Here, people are encouraged to show their true selves."

Sophia nodded, her gaze flickering to Lana to find the beautiful redhead wearing a big grin as she now let a sharp-pointed fingernail drag down her submissive's torso to his snug boxers.

"Have you been in that situation," she wondered, "as a submissive?"

James turned to her. "Nope. But if you'd like to dress up in liquid latex, I'd definitely consider giving it a try," he teased, and Sophia couldn't help but laugh.

"Tempting." She stuck her tongue out at him, and he grinned in return.

"Alright,
enough
."

They turned to the approaching redhead.

"You guys are cute and everything, but I'm trying to teach this man a valuable lesson." She nudged her head toward the man still shackled to that wall and he made some undistinguishable sounds. "And now he's all charmed and has gone all romantic. I don't work with that crap."

James rolled his eyes. "Lana—"

"— In here, I'm Ember."

"
Ember
," he corrected impatiently. "We're just looking around."

Her gaze fell on Sophia shortly before looking at James again. "Nothing wrong with window-shopping ideas, but make my man go
aww
one more time, and I won't get him off for a week."

"Bitch," James said in a flat tone, followed by something sounding strangely like
I know, right?
from her husband.

"I'm sorry," Sophia said to Lana, "it's my fault."

"No," James said. "She's a newcomer. Have some patience."

Lana flashed a smile. "When you're ready for some real fun," she looked at Sophia, "you two can drop by. Now, go visit the place two rooms down." A devious smile spread across her face.

"What's in there?" Sophia asked reluctantly, watching the latex clad woman sway her hips as she walked back to her victim/husband.

"
Ideas
, cutie."

"Come," James ordered and took her hand in his.

She swiveled toward him the second they were outside. "I've been kicked out of a sex room! I've never been kicked out of anything before."

James kissed her head. "It was my fault."

"Rebel," Sophia said, only to look toward a room they neared. The one Lana recommended. Whimpering moans seeped through the drapes, and James escorted her inside. Sophia sucked in a sharp breath. Instead of finding more lovers tying each other up to punish and please, she found a lounge setting and a small stage. The people there watched a woman being pleasured atop a man's lap, her legs spread for their view. She gripped James's hand harder, her heart pounding.

James reeled back, seeing the tenseness cross her face. Something about that situation struck home. "Sophia?" Her blue eyes flickered to his, wide and confused. She took a step back. He wasn't going to let her leave, instead catching her arm and bringing her in front of him.

"James," she pleaded, her voice sounding meek. She turned her head away from the moaning woman.

He slid his hand over her chin and steered her focus back to the small stage in front of her. All around, there were heavy red drapes set with details of gold, and pillars of candles giving a soft, relaxed glow to the room. "Do you want to watch?" he asked, his hand on her ribcage, his fingers close to her heaving chest where he could feel her heart run quick, a hummingbird's flutter. "Or do you want to be in her place?"

Her breath fell faster, her skin warming and teasing his fingertips.

"I can make it happen."

Sophia tensed. "No."

"You will be blindfolded," he offered, "held in place with your pretty legs spread open for an audience."

She sounded out of breath when she spoke, "I can't. I don't — I don't want to."

"I'll be there as well. I'll hate every second of it because I can't stand the thought of someone else pleasuring you. But I will watch until you beg me to take you away from him, until you beg me to fuck you."

"Oh, God," she moaned, body trembling.

He nipped the skin between neck and shoulder with his teeth, just enough to make her gasp. "Are you watching her?" he asked, and after a moment Sophia nodded. "Good." His interest slid back to the woman inside that room, straining, trying to coax him deeper in but he held her pleasure an inch in front of her, always in charge. While he knew many fantasized about observers watching them being touched, he didn't expect it from Sophia. "Watch her," he commanded, his fingers inching down her thigh to the hem of her dress. Fuck, Sophia looked sweet in that dress, loose fit around her hips and thighs, tight across her stomach and chest. The neckline dipped low on her back, showing her soft, fair skin perfectly. He brushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck, just as his other hand began traveling upward, pushing the fabric along. She placed her hand on his, but made no move to push him away.

"You'll do as I say." His fingers reached the top of her thigh. Her legs were bare, so soft against the palm of his hand. "Are you wet?" She was so sensitive, gasping for breath when he touched her with his lips. He drew back, unsure how far she was and not wanting to stoke the fire. He knew he could get her off like this, but once she came, he wanted it to be blinding and he wanted her in his bed — bound and begging for sweet release. Some of the onlookers inside the room turned their attention to the pretty blonde he was with. He smoothed a hand atop her hipbone, but kept his other between her legs, barely grazing her underwear. He wasn't going to touch her yet.

"I think so — yes," she said at last, voice hushed. He smiled.

"Open your eyes, Sophia," he said, dimpling the flesh of her inner thigh, making her moan. So
fucking
sweet. He steered his eyes toward the woman inside the room again, finding her gasping for breath, her hips rocking unashamedly to reach her edge. The man in the dark suit and beaked mask removed his fingers from her wetness, making the woman cry out in utter desperation.

She'd sell her soul right then for someone to push her over the edge, and James watched intrigued. One of the spectators, her boyfriend, knelt in front of her and buried his face between her thighs while the man behind her held her legs apart. A beautiful woman in sky-high heels joined them, and moved to remove her blindfold, revealing wide, fluttering eyes. A quick glance about her surroundings seemed to bring her more pleasure, and when spotting Sophia, she shuddered, arched, and screamed.

Sophia tensed, and James glanced down at her, her skirt still bunched up at her thighs. "Let me go." She pushed his hand away and corrected her clothes.
Shit.
The stress that painted her sweet face got to him. He wrapped an arm about her waist and took her away from there. Half a minute later another scream followed them, and Sophia jumped. He chuckled at her.

"This way." He motioned toward the direction they came from when they first got there, seeing Sophia wasn't in her right mind to think clearly. He noticed Eric and Lucas with a group, their gazes trained on her.

Sophia noticed them too, blushed a pretty shade of pink when they smiled at her, and then she hurried her pace. He let her find distance to collect her mind, keeping his slow pace through the club. A few guests sent questionable looks her way when she stormed past them as if the hounds of hell were chasing her.

"She fits in
so
well," Nicholas called from the couch when James walked past him. He had a beautiful woman atop his lap, his fingers grazing the nape of her neck and making her bend backward into his touch with a moan, jutting her chest out for him. He spent no time adjusting his attention to her body. James didn't bother responding to his sardonic jab. Sophia was the first to have run out of there and that was exactly what Nicholas wanted to talk to him about earlier. People always stayed. Maybe Nicholas was right, that James was out of his mind bringing Sophia there.

She stood by his car on the passenger side, leaning against the door casually. Aside from her body cringing at the cold air circling her, there was no hint to her emotions, no reflection to the panic she stressed earlier. This was a difficult one. A week ago she was untouched, someone who didn't care about sex, and who thought of it as something to get over with, like a nuisance. Now, she was responding to ideas and they scared her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, slicing the silence as he changed lanes. Her gaze lifted from her knees.

"Yes. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess."

"I understand." He focused on the traffic, slowing down to let a reckless car pass.

"You drive your own car," she noted, more to herself as if remembering something.

"Uh, I do."

"I read an article about you, and they said you had limousines waiting for you all the time. There were pictures."

"Oh," he rolled his eyes, "those were stock photos. I never said any of that crap. I'd much rather be the driver to be perfectly honest, but that wasn't exciting enough for them. Though, limousines are expected on some occasions."

"I see."

James blinked. "Are you disappointed?"

Her head swiveled his way, her startling blue eyes wide. "No! Of course not!"

James smiled at her distress. At least she was showing her reactions. He wanted more of it.

"I just remembered the article. I — I like your driving. You're very good at it," she babbled.

James stopped himself from laughing. She could be too cute at times. "Thank you."

Sophia searched the radio channels until stopping on one playing the soundtrack from
Grease
.

His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. "Really? Grease?" She simply smiled in return and leaned back in her seat to gaze out the window. "What are you thinking about?"

"Street lights."

He let her unwind while he focused on traffic. The woman in the seat next to him clutched her arms around herself. She turned her head halfway toward him. "What are you thinking about?"

James fixed his eyes on her. "Street lights."

---

The second he closed the door inside the Monroe suite, he dipped her backward in his arms and kissed her. She gasped in surprise — he loved that — before she molded herself to him, touched his chest, parted her lips, and whimpered when their tongues met. Her submission made his skin heat. Fuck, he wanted her right there, up against the wall with the skirt of her dress bunched up around her waist while her sweet moans urged him to sink inside her warmth.

Shit
. He never lost it like that. He was rock-hard already. He needed to slow down, for her. She took a small step back, held a delicate hand to his chest. She'd gotten some of her spirit back, a playful smile brushing her lips. The nervousness she'd expressed earlier lifted because now she thought she was safe. Truth be told, he loved seeing her nervous, a little restless, not knowing quite what to expect. There was something about her when she met her fears and embraced them — when she dared to push her strictly set boundaries. And he loved to show her how.

He smiled at her, letting her have this moment. She kicked off her heels, and his focus settled on her legs and thighs he wanted to run his hands up — to kiss, to bite, to taste. He quirked a brow at her, taking a measured step closer.

She withdrew, keeping the distance and tilting her head and making her soft curls bounce to the side, shadowing the glint in her eyes. She touched the back of the divan with a light hand, all the while watching him. Hands in his pockets, he followed her into the suite. A line of shadow erased her shortly before the blue of moon painted her anew. She reached the grand piano and let a finger follow the graceful lines until reaching the keys.

With her back turned toward it, she pressed the keys and a multitude of sounds broke the pure silence of Monroe. She let him reach her this time and then he lifted her onto the piano, the jumbled tones from the keys intensifying. She clutched onto him, her breath rapid against his ear.

He angled his head and kissed her neck, eliciting a small whimper from her. He flicked his tongue over a spot that sent shivers through her, and soon the breathy little sounds she made almost had him strip her naked right there while perched so readily on the piano.

She surprised him when she swooped in and kissed him, digging her fingertips into his shoulders, her movement sending another stream of sounds from the keys and awakening the dark around them. Her soft mouth moved with his, their tongues teasing, tasting. She looped his tie around her hand and pulled him closer, kissing him harder while he gripped her hips.

She nipped his bottom lip. "Who's in control?"

He had to focus his attention to catch the words whispered against his lips. "It's all you, babe, for now."

Her gaze swept up to his. "You like games." She pushed him an arm's length away before she slid off the piano.

"Games can be fun."

As she turned to head for the stairs, her dress fanned out and he caught a glimpse of black panties.

She jumped up onto the first step, just out of his reach. Heading for the second, the third, the lure of a smile teased her lips. He followed steadily and held her gaze imprisoned. He moved a hand to his tie, loosened it, released it, and let it plummet to the floor beneath them. Her steps slowed, her eyes taking in the way he released one button after the other of his shirt.

He reached her and she blinked out of her blatant stupor. She liked her games as well, he knew, but she was far from able to control them the way she wished. And it was fucking adorable.

"Naughty, Sophia," he teased. He leaned in and bit her bottom lip. She moaned, freed her lip, and slanted her lips across his. He enveloped her in his arms and picked her up, kissing her hard. Inside the bedroom, he yanked her around so that her back pressed against him. He stroked her hips and gripped them before letting his hands wander to the delicate curve of her waist and continued up her ribcage.

Unzipping her dress, his lips skimmed her shoulder and moved to the nape of her neck where he teased her skin with small nips. She smelled delicious, the delicate scent of sweet perfume mixing with the heat of her skin. She was so deliciously edible, every trembling inch of her. He moved his hand to her ribcage, feeling her heart smash against his hand before he moved to grasp her dress. With a firm tug, he left her standing in her underwear, her pastel-soft skin luminous in the dim light.

Her shoulders raised and curled forward, goosebumps forming on her skin. He wrapped his arms around her in effort to warm her, taking his sweet time to taste her neck, focusing on a sweet spot he knew turned her the hell on. She turned pliant in his arms, showing her trust in him. Her weight rested on him and he smiled against her skin. Next, she gasped and clumsily straightened.

"Sorry," her voice turned a little husky, and it was sexy as hell.

He turned her in his arms, pressing her front to his. Her eyes widened a fraction, and he knew she felt him. "I'm not," he murmured. He moved to her black cotton underwear, circling the small dent the fabric created in her flesh. The clothes she wore underneath were basic; no embellishments, no fancy materials, yet she looked great in them. Sweet and tempting — Sophia in a nutshell. He wanted to taste her, his nose brushing against the pulse point of her neck. He kissed her skin and felt her shiver, and next he removed her underwear.

He moved momentarily to the door and swung it all the way shut, watching Sophia give a small jolt at the sound. The room turned a nuance darker, but not enough to extinguish her sweet face watching him warily as he approached her, as she watched him remove his shirt completely.

"Eyes up here." He smiled, and she jerked her head up. "No more escaping," he said, approaching her, "I plan to keep you here all night."

She swallowed audibly and released a shivery breath. James undid the zipper of his pants and took them off. He steered her a little further backward toward the king-size bed they fell asleep in last night.