Page 45 of Reckoning

It feels like her body doesn’t know what to do. How to react. She kicks out, she jerks. Her body goes so tense and then she is coming, right here, all over my hand.

I don’t dare move. I don’t dare do anything for fear she’ll awake. She lies there, panting, and I slip my finger out from where it belongs.

My cock is so hard it’s difficult to move. It’s difficult to think straight.

I force myself to step away, to leave.

My little devil is laid out, sprawled on the sheets and I’d give anything to lay down beside her. But I can’t stay. I have to go.

Sofia

Ishouldn’t have done it, but my nerves got the better of me and I needed some Dutch courage to ensure I didn’t fuck this up before it even starts; so I necked back half a bottle before I even got here.

The vodka seems to ease the shyness, the awkwardness, as I smile and kiss Otto’s cheek.

We’re in a bar, one of Verona’s finest. Around us is half the city’s big hitters, designers, celebrities, influencers. You name it.

But no one is looking at them.

No, every eye, every camera, they’re all pointed at us. At me and Otto.

I guess I should have expected that. Should have prepared for that. If I had my way we would have gone somewhere quieter, less flashy, but that’s not Otto Blumenfeld. No, he’s all about show, all about making sure Verona sees him with the best that this city can offer – and apparently I’m the best woman now.

I almost laugh at the irony of that. Christ, if my father could see me would he be turning in his grave or proud that I’ve actually achieved something? In truth, the fact that I still care irks me. That man showed me little love, little affection, once he realised I was flawed, he pretty much locked me up, locked me away, like a dirty family little secret that had to be buried and forgotten about.

Well, it’s worked out well for me now. Well for us. For me and Roman. The fact that I’ve stayed out of the limelight, the fact that Verona barely knows me beyond my name and my face, has made me a high prize indeed.

Otto takes my hand, leading me over to the best table in the house.

He pulls out my chair, helps me to sit down and in every way acts like the perfect gentleman.

If I were a fool, I’d believe all this, I’d look at him and see just a kind, rich older man and not the wolf he really is beneath that expensive suit.

He orders for us. I’m quickly learning that he likes to be in charge, to make all the decisions. And, seeing as I’m trying to appease him, why would I bother to challenge that?

He does most of the talking, again, that’s how he seems to like it. I’ll admit it makes it easier, far easier. All I have to do is smile, and simper, and respond accordingly. It takes little effort on my part. And he’s trying to charm me right now so it’s not like he’s saying anything that gets my back up or offends.

Once the meal is done, I make a point of offering to split the cheque. I don’t want him to think I’m a gold-digger. Of course he refuses and I smile, blushing, saying I’ll pay for the next one. He takes the bait, he fucking loves that, and he holds out his hand guiding me past all those noisy little onlookers.

Once we’re in his car is where everything starts to change, where it feels like the mask slips and the real Otto comes out. Maybe it’s because he drank most of the wine by himself, maybe it’s because there isn’t anyone to observe us.

He starts to get handsy, grabbing me, kissing me, evidently expecting this date to end with us fucking despite it being our first.

Only, I’m not giving him that.

He can look but he absolutely cannot touch.

I won’t not going to cross that line. I’m not going to turn myself into any more of a whore than I already feel.

I push him back, gasping, as though I’m loving his attention and not feeling sickened by it.

“I,” I drop my gaze, playing that shy, bashful creature he seems to enjoy so much. “I haven’t been with anyone like that...” I whisper.

The way he reacts, the way his entire body language changes tells me everything I need to know. That my value just went up. That in his eyes I’m an even greater thing to possess.

“Fuck,” He groans, running his hand up my thigh. “I truly am lucky to have you then.”

I nod, battering my eyelids, ignoring the twisting emotions inside myself. This is for the greater good. This is for my family. It doesn’t matter what my feelings are, it doesn’t matter what I want. I have to do this, I have to prove myself.