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I let out a hollow laugh. “Protected me from what? Myself?”
He cupped my cheek, trapping my face so I had no choice but to see the sincerity in his deep, dark eyes. “From loneliness. From indifference. You should have been loved, Sofia.”
“Daddy loves me.” The assertion hitched in my throat.
“I believe he does,” Mateo agreed. “But he wasn’t there for you. Not like he should have been.”
He rubbed his thumb over my lips and traced the lines of my cheekbones, as though he was memorizing every detail of my form.
“I’m here for you now,” he swore. “You’re mine.”Chapter 15MateoI’d always assumed Sofia had lived an easy, blissfully happy life. I’d thought she’d been handed everything she wanted on a silver platter by a doting father who showered her with love.
He might have provided for her, but Sofia hadn’t been loved. Not like she should have been.
She’d been lonely and so desperate for her father’s affection that she’d chosen to cut her soft skin. She’d hurt herself in order to regulate her emotions, so that Caesar wouldn’t think she was being difficult.
No wonder she’d become attached to me so quickly. I lavished her with the praise and attention she craved so deeply that she’d been willing to bleed for it.
My hatred for Caesar swelled. He might not realize how his behavior had tormented Sofia, but that didn’t excuse what he’d done to her. He wasn’t forgiven, and I wouldn’t forget.
Sofia was convinced that she’d ruined her body. I suspected those were her mother’s cruel words, inflicted on an anguished young girl who was already consumed by the longing for approval.
No wonder Sofia was so sweet and innocent. She’d conditioned herself to be pleasant and bubbly, seeking to befriend anyone and everyone. And it was now obvious that she’d remained innocent because she was too deeply ashamed to show a man her body in an intimate way.
The qualities that I revered were rooted in her pain.
I couldn’t erase what had been done to my precious little flower, but I was determined to soothe that pain.
She remained cradled in my arms, her emerald eyes so wide and hopeful that it made my chest ache. She wanted to believe what I was saying—that I truly did think she was perfect, and that I would take care of her.
I’d fucked up by giving her space this morning. She’d interpreted my distance as rejection. I’d been trying to manipulate her into willingly returning to my arms, but I understood now that Sofia’s surrender didn’t require games like that. She needed to be held, reassured that I wouldn’t discard her for any reason.
When Adrián had given me permission to take her, I’d claimed her to indulge my own selfish desires. I’d plotted how I would cage her, lure her in so that she thought she was choosing her captivity.
Devious schemes had never been necessary. All Sofia needed was my promise that I wanted her, and she would cling to me and never let go.
My darkest desires for her were easily within my grasp, and she was better suited to my twisted tastes than I could have dared to hope.
She thrived on structure: punishment and reward. Clearly demonstrating my expectations brought her a sense of stability. She would never have to feel insecure or guess how to behave in order to please me.
I owed her a very special reward for sharing her secrets with me.
I shifted my hold on her willowy body, taking her lush lips in a kiss as I guided her back down beneath me.
Fuck, she felt so good in this position; captured for my pleasure and helpless to resist me.
I’d handled her aggressively when I’d pinned her in place for our first kiss. She’d struggled at first, overwhelmed and intimidated. Her surrender had been exquisite.
The damp spot on my jeans proved the intensity of her arousal. Her body was mine to play with as I wished, and I wanted to taste her.
She shuddered and sighed, melting into my hold. Her head tipped back, inviting me to explore her more deeply. I claimed her mouth with firm strokes of my tongue, my cock aching to penetrate her tight little pussy at the same rhythm.
My cock ached in the confines of my jeans, but I knew better than to strip when I had Sofia like this, pliant and wet for me.
No penetration of any kind. Adrián’s warning was an unwelcome voice in my head, denying me what I desired so keenly that I hovered on the edge of pain.
I grasped Sofia’s slender wrists and directed her hands behind her head, pulling back from her hot mouth at the same time.
She stared up at me, her pouty lips swollen and her eyes dark with lust.
“Keep your hands there,” I commanded, my voice roughened by my own suppressed need.
“Why? I want to touch you,” she said, soft and slow. She appeared drunk off my kiss, and the sight of her intoxicated bliss made my own satisfaction swell.
