Reclaiming Sophie by Natasha Knight

Author:Natasha Knight [Knight, Natasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2016-10-27T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Sophie could hardly taste what she ate at the restaurant. Michael, on the other hand, ate as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Even so, she could see the battle that had begun within him. He was unable to understand that he could like what he’d done, that he could become aroused by it. Perhaps he was surprised at how easily it came to him, or how naturally he took on the role of the dominant partner that she sought.

She’d meant what she’d told him; she had no doubt he would never really hurt her. She wondered if it would help him to talk to Kyan a little more, but didn’t want to bring it up. He needed to figure that out for himself.

Michael parked the car along their street and walked her inside without a word. The dim overhead lamps they’d left on and the one in the living room were the only light in the place. Sophie took in the elegant entrance with its large black-and-white, diagonally placed tiles, the old staircase with its marble handrail.

She had baked a Dutch apple cake earlier in the day and the house still smelled of it. It was Michael’s favorite.

His fingers were on her back. She shivered beneath his light touch as he traced both shoulders until he reached the straps that held the dress up. She held her breath when he slipped each off her arms and remained perfectly still while he slid the dress down and off her body.

“Step out,” he said, holding her arm for support.

She swallowed and slowly did as he said. He then led her up the first set of stairs and continued up the second to the attic. There, he hit the switch to turn on the overhead lamp, using the dimmer to keep the light soft. He closed the door behind them.

“Put the chair in the middle of the rug facing me,” he said.

She hesitated a moment, wondering why they’d come to the attic. The house was big enough that they’d only used this space for storage. It wasn’t a warm place, quite the opposite. It was dark with exposed beams and wood all around. The only pieces of furniture were an old, worn bench, a dusty dresser, and a chair set among boxes stacked along the walls. A carpet covered a circular area in the center of the room, an old, thick sheepskin she’d loved, but they had not had anywhere to put once they’d moved here.

She wondered what he was thinking. What he wanted. She’d assumed they’d go to their bedroom, maybe go through the box he’d gotten. This was strange.

He cleared his throat and she moved to pick up the simple wooden chair and set it in the middle of the carpet.

“Now sit down.”

Sophie sat and placed her hands on her lap, her eyes on him.

“When you’re not told to look at me, I’d like your eyes on the floor.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered before lowering her lashes, looking at the pale pink polish that was chipping on her toenails.

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