Sophie Marceau Nue Novels & Stories

she protests again. “Dear,” Marie coos, “these designs are once-in-a-lifetime. Just try one. You’ll fall in love.” “But—” Marie cuts her off. “Some people wait years to get this close. Don’t miss your moment to be the main character.” She gently guides Sofia toward the fitting room. Goosebumps. She’s radiant, completely unaware that ten minutes ago... I came undone with her name on my lips. I pull out my phone, hissing at the name flashing across the screen before answering.

Steam curled out into the bay, fogging the mirrors. I didn’t announce myself. I just walked in. Sofia stood under the spray, back to me, head tipped back, water streaming over her shoulders, down the dip of her spine, over the round swell of her ass. No tan lines. Smooth skin glistening. She had one hand braced on the tile, the other between her legs, fingers moving in slow, deliberate strokes. Her hips rolled lazily. Soft moans mixed with the hiss of water. She didn’t hear me at first.

"A very long, very demanding meeting. I might be late." "Don't work too hard, darling," Sophie cooed. "I’m having a glass of Chablis and looking at wedding dresses. I found one today—it’s silk, completely backless. I think you’ll love it." I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, my eyes squeezing shut as a wave of pleasure crashed over me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her to shut up. I wanted to tell her that her fiancé was watching me come while she talked about silk.

Vanity this extreme was almost impressive. Looking around, I could tell just how much Sophie loved herself. Photos of Sophie smiling were displayed all over the room. Her skin was so pale and smooth, and her eyes were so large, that it was obvious the images had been edited. Some photos showed her in seductive outfits that emphasized her figure. Others showed her dressed like a sweet young lady. I turned my attention back to the closet. There, in the center, placed almost like a symbol of Sophie herself, was a bottle.

My problem was standing twenty feet away near the marble fountain. Marcella. She was wearing a standard silk gown from the Westview boutique district. It looked like a rag compared to the liquid moonlight on my skin. Her fingers were wrapped around a crystal champagne flute so tightly her knuckles were dead white. "Look at her," Cooper said softly. "She looks like she wants to drink your blood." "She can try," I said. I turned my body slightly, forcing the sea-star diamonds to catch the direct beam of the moonstone ceiling. The reflection hit Marcella straight in the eyes. She flinched. Her face went from pale to a mottled, ugly purple in a fraction of a second.

"Amaya, I have to ask. Pierre told me you are no longer a virgin and the reason why. Maybe I'm out of place, but, may I see it?" "Of course he did. Sure, you can see it. But we need someplace a lot more private so I can out of this dress. Don't forget, they are still pirates." They walked down the path to the gardener's shed. They went in and locked the door. Felipe helped her out of her dress and halfway out of her undergarments. He gasped when he saw the burns. He didn't think it was that bad. "Does it hurt?" "Not much, anymore. Sometimes, I forget that it's there. I hate it though. Makes me feel ugly most of the time."

Joseph anticipated and hurried to pull her clothes. Oh, let’s do that gently, just like in the movies, Sophie said. She went close to the bed and started to masturbate slowly. She placed her right leg on top of the bed, pulled her skirt to show her shiny little amateur laps, opened her top buttons, rubbed her rounded breast gently while shaking her boobs to seduce Joseph.

She couldn't help but wonder what instructions the man who had bought her gave them. After a long shower, she walked into the room stark naked. Marie and the rest were still in the room; the bedspreads were changed. The room was smelling different than it used to, and there was food on the table. As soon as Marie spotted her, she took the bathrobe and walked over to Sofia. "Do you have a habit of coming out of the shower naked?" Marie asked. "Like if I have a choice." Sofia answered as she took the bathrobe from Marie. "Have you picked a cloth?"

His thumbs pressed against the silk, finding the curve of her spine. Sophia leaned back into him. She let her head fall against his shoulder. "Zip," she murmured. Marcus found the zipper. He pulled it down slowly. The sound was a soft tear in the silence. The cool air hit her skin, raising goosebumps. The gold silk pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it. She turned to face him. She was wearing nothing but silk underwear. And the baby. The bump was small, a gentle swell that disrupted the flat planes of her abdomen. In the moonlight, it looked like a pearl.

“Take everything off. Slow.” Sofia peeled off her tank top and shorts, no bra, no panties underneath. She was already aching. Marcus looked her up and down, eyes dark. “Look at you. Nineteen years old with a body like that. And you’re giving it to a man old enough to be your father. Fucking filthy.”