Only You

Chapter 12

Alexey

"Before we start, we should probably go over your triggers again," I tell Elora once we're in her room, casually unbuttoning my jacket as I speak. This is my job, after all, and I'm determined to be professional this time.

Elora looks mildly uncomfortable with my question but she plays it off quite well. I fight the urge to ask what that's about. Is she ashamed about what happened or does she simply not like to talk about it? Also, who else has she told about it?

There's so much I don't know, so much I want to know but can't ask. It's none of my business, after all. All I need to do is try to help her get over her triggers so she can move on with her life.

I swallow my question and eye her expectantly. "Like I said the last time, please avoid touching my hips," she says, her posture stiff as she settles on the couch. I nod, urging her to move on while I take off my shoes.

She eyes me warily but doesn't comment on my behavior. "I don't know what else," she says but when I drop to my knees before her crossed legs, her eyes widen and she practically screeches, "What on earth are you doing?"

I smile up at her, unable to hide my amusement. "Taking off your shoes, Sunshine, what else? May I?" I ask casually, motioning for one of her feet.

She blinks at me. Then nods wordlessly, looking at me like one would at a foreign creature. As I start unwrapping the straps up her calf, she finally asks, "Sunshine?"

"You told me your name means light, right?" I reply as if that cleared things up. To be honest, I didn't mean to call her that but now that I said it out loud, it only seems fitting. I focus back on my work of freeing her feet from her stilettos, only looking back up at her face as I slip the first one off with a lingering touch on her calf.

Her eyes flutter and she sighs softly, finally relaxing back into the couch. She seems to soak up every little bit of affection and care I spare her with an intensity that makes me think she's been starved of it for too long. Part of me is happy to make her feel good while the rest of me feels guilty for taking advantage of her.

I push the chastising voice far, far down, and resume with the other shoe.

Once I'm done and back on my feet, I ask, "Do you want to continue where we left off the last time?"

Her blush is visible even in the dim light and it does nothing to lessen my attraction to her. God, why does she have to be so damn sweet? "I don't know. What's on today's program?" she wonders.

"Going with the flow and figuring things out as we go?" I provide, though she doesn't seem convinced, chewing on her bottom lip.

"I think I'd rather have a plan we can stick to," she says before groaning very unlike herself. "What even is there to do? I tried to do some research but it all seemed so unnatural."

Despite her obvious display of despair, I can't help but grin at the mental image of her doing "research" on how to be intimate with someone. Instead of answering, I pull her to her feet before sitting down on the couch myself and pulling her onto my lap.

She follows my lead almost naturally but resorts to hovering above my lower thighs like she did the last time, rather than scooting closer.

"Does this feel unnatural?" I ask her, caressing the back of her hands with my thumbs. She holds my gaze and shakes her head, swallowing audibly. Urging her a little closer with a tug toward me, I get her to sit a few inches closer to my lap.

"What about this?" I ask. Again, she shakes her head. We repeat that whole deal until she's sitting right on top of my already hardening dick and my voice has become husky. "Now, tell me what you saw doing research."

"Uhm," she starts, clearing her throat and shifting slightly on my lap in a way that has me losing my sanity. "I don't know. There wasn't really much kissing. A lot of rubbing and grinding?" she says weakly, blushing furiously. "Then the woman would go down on her knees? And, you know," she trails off, looking anywhere but at me.

Not that I mind the lack of her attention on my face. Since she started talking, she's been squirming relentlessly, rubbing her voluminous ass against my crotch without realizing it, I bet. Now I'm gritting my teeth so hard it hurts, fighting not to lose control and stay professional.

"We don't have to do that," I interject. That quickly has her eyes darting to mine.

"Why? The men in the videos seemed to like it," she says with a kind of innocence or confusion in her eyes that resembles Bambi. I smile at her and bring one hand up to cup her face.

"They might, but this arrangement isn't about me," I tell her patiently, to which she furrows her brows but doesn't say anything else. "What else?"

"Oh, come on. You know what else," she protests, letting her head drop on my shoulders as if she couldn't handle the embarrassment any longer.

"I do. There's nothing to be ashamed of," I insist.

"Easy for you to say," she mumbles against my shoulder, oblivious that she just struck a nerve.

"What does that mean?" I ask, trying not to sound as if her implication about my job bothers me. As if I hadn't forgotten what she must be thinking about me, an escort, coming from a family as rich and proper as hers and the reminder pisses me off.

She simply shrugs, being none the wiser of my change in mood. I decide to drop it even though a spiteful part of me holds the grudge tightly to its chest. It's a sore spot...

No longer in the mood to talk, I take the liberty to lead Elora's face to mine and kiss her, leading more aggressively than I should. A better person would take a second to calm down and breathe but right now, I'm frustrated enough to not want to be a better person.

To her credit, Elora tries her best to keep up with me, nipping at my lips and tugging on my hair while she rolls her hips against me. That only seems to irritate me more. Why does she have to be so damn perfect and feel so fucking right?

I bite down on her bottom lip harder than intended and much to my dismay, it's what draws a soft little moan from her lips. Alarm bells start blaring in my head as my sadistic side seems to wake from its slumber and again, I ignore it like an idiot.

With every swipe of her tongue and every breath against my skin, every roll of her hips and tug on my hair, all I can hear is "I want to keep her". It's a stupid thought, impossible and irrational and something created purely by the heat of this moment but it's there.

Frustration and anger along with heady desire and need boil up beneath my skin and before I know what I'm doing, my hands find the woman's hips to help grind her against me. Only that the moment I squeeze her soft flesh, she makes a sound of distress and jumps off my lap, leaving me confused and breathless only for a second before I realize what I did.

I curse myself, repeating that it was a mistake and I'd never purposefully hurt Elora while feeling the blood drain from my face all the same.

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