Sonata Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Act One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Act Two

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Act Three

  chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Act Four

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Author Note

  By

  Kenya Wright

  Sonata © 2019

  Custom Photography and Cover Design © 2019 Designs by Taria Reed

  Interior design and formatting by J.N. Sheats

  Artwork by Warlocklord

  Production Team: Anita B., V Vee., and Loette J.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the authors of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any characters, names, places, brands, media and incidents are used solely in a fictitious nature based on the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to or mention of persons, places, organizations or other incidents is coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2019

  ISBN 0-9000000-0-0

  www.KenyaWrightBooks.com

  “Love is friendship set to music.”

  ―Jackson Pollock

  Sonata:

  a long classical piece typically written in three movements: exposition, development, & recapitulation.

  Prologue

  Bubbles & Petals

  Eden

  What does he have planned this evening?

  Earlier, Jean-Pierre sent a box with a robe and a card packed inside. The instructions were to take off my clothes, put on the robe, and open the card in the bathroom.

  Alrighty. Let’s see where this is going.

  I did as instructed.

  Minutes later, I stepped inside the massive space.

  Jean-Pierre had spared no expense with his bathroom. It was not only the most extravagant place I’d ever peed in, but most would consider it the crème de la crème of bathrooms.

  One giant window stood next to the tub, displaying a remarkable view of Paris. Several feet away, a jewel-encrusted bidet sat next to a heated, digital toilet. A few steps further, there was a freestanding rain shower surrounded by stained glass.

  I had no idea rich people released their fluids in such decadence.

  And the opulence didn’t stop there. The space boasted gilded wash basins, and candelabras, fresco vaulted ceilings, and a full entertainment system that was operated by voice command. A massive aquarium wall flanked on the right. Breathtaking tropical fish swam around the huge tank.

  Oh. This is even nicer.

  Sometime earlier today, Jean-Pierre’s butler had placed large vases of roses in the room. Lit candles sat on every raised surface. A vanity sat by the hot tub with several bottles of wine and two glasses. Perfumed steam rose from a solid gold bathtub.

  I pulled the card out and opened it.

  Eden,

  I’m sorry I had to leave early this morning. I’m mad I missed the whole day with you. Before dinner, let’s relax with a glass of wine in the bathtub.

  I want to taste your skin.

  Jean-Pierre

  My body warmed. I closed the card and tucked it back into my bathrobe pocket.

  I can’t think of anything better than relaxing with you in warm water.

  I walked over to the window, and spent a few moments appreciating the Paris nightscape. Only a few weeks ago, I’d been in the States. In fact, a few weeks ago, I’d had an entirely different life. Now. . .I had to relearn my own life and piece together what was reality, and what was Jean-Pierre’s and Aunt Celina’s. Even now, Jean-Pierre’s confession came out of nowhere, and blew me away.

  I thought about our conversation last night. I’d finally made some sort of decision about how we would proceed forward. And the answer had been more of a…maybe, then a certainty. I had to relearn him, Aunt Celina, and even myself.

  His life scared me too. How much could I deal with? How much would be okay, before I wanted to walk away.

  And could I walk away?

  Jean-Pierre’s words from last night ran through my head.

  “Again, I want to be as honest as possible.” Jean-Pierre tugged my head back some more to lap at the curve of my neck. The sensual attention gave me no time to process his statement. “I’m going to fight to be with you, Eden.”

  A shiver ran up my spine.

  My body continued to heat for him.

  He devoured me, and all I could do was let him. If there’d ever been a part of me that was having second thoughts or cold to him, it was now warm. He’d melted it away.

  “Let’s try this,” I whispered. “I… can’t walk away from you either, Jean-Pierre. Although I don’t have the power, like you, to make me stay, I…would do everything to keep you around. Even though I’m still confused about everything. Even though I’m still. . .scared of who you are.”

  “I would keep it away from you.”

  “Still…let’s try.”

  “I’ll take it.” He kissed me hard, swallowing down any response I could’ve came up with. And then in a rush, he lifted me up into his arms, opened the door, and carried me in.

  I gripped my robe, needing to hold on to something as the memory of last night rocked me.

  Once I’d said yes, we went to his condo in Paris. He was fully inviting me into his world, and I worried, if I could make it.

  I slid the robe off, draped it across the vanity, and stepped into the bubbling water. Steam rose and twisted up my legs. I gasped as the warm water slipped against my skin. Rose petals floated on the surface among bubbles. I lowered myself into the tub, submerging my naked body in silky water. Jet streams hit my body, gently massaging and making me think of Jean-Pierre’s hands.

  This is heaven. No regrets yet.

  I’d been doing a regret-check with myself each hour. Jean-Pierre had confessed the truth this week, and I still wasn’t sure, if my staying was the right choice. I just knew, I didn’t want to walk away. I had to see if what we had was real.

  Aunt Celina still hasn’t called back. Neither has Shalimar.

  My gut twisted with worry. Jean-Pierre promised to find out what was going on last night. I woke this morning and he’d already rushed off.

  Why? Did it have something to do with Aunt Celina or Shalimar?

  I sank deeper into the water, further into heaven. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. Anticipation moved in my chest. I missed Jean-Pierre. I was anxious to see him, as well as get an update to what was going on.

  Jean-Pierre’s sexy voice filled the air. “Tu m'as manqué.”

  Smiling, I opened my eyes. “I missed you too.”

  Jean-Pierre stepped into my focus and stopped next to the tub. His usual designer suit jacket was off
. Same as the expensive leather loafers.

  Damn. Even his feet are irresistible.

  He’d entered barefoot wearing only a crisp, white button-down shirt and tailored dark blue pants. His tie hung loosely around his neck, as if he’d been yanking it free with each step to the bathroom.

  I didn’t know when, I would get used to his gorgeousness. My heartbeat faster when he filled the space. It boomed and drummed. He wore a wild sexuality. It pulsed around him, making him appear even bigger than he already was. It shook me to see him wield such allure, such wild sexuality.

  This evening, his thick accent came out husky, making me aware of how exhausted he must’ve been. “I worried that you wouldn’t be here, when I returned.”

  “I told you I would try. . .for now.”

  “For now.” His gaze shimmered with lusty heat. I loved the way he studied me, as if he was thinking about diving deep into my soul. “I don’t remember the for now part, but I understand.”

  He reached out and swept a few curls from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. As soon as his fingers skimmed my skin, I felt a rush of electric current.

  My pulse raced.

  His delicious mouth curved into a smile. “How was your day today?”

  “Fine.”

  He unbuttoned his white shirt, revealing layers of muscle underneath. “Did you romance Eros?”

  Hypnotized, I gazed at him as he pulled off his shirt. It fell to the floor. I cleared my throat. “Yes, I played Eros a little.”

  “Then, he is lucky.” Jean-Pierre unbuckled his belt. His gaze remained on me. “I’m jealous.”

  “Don’t be. I plan to have my hands all over you this evening.”

  His smile shifted to wicked. “Is that right?”

  The pants hit the floor, and then his boxer briefs next. His cock hung long and hard between those muscled thighs. With a penetrating gaze, he watched me and slowly slipped his hand down the length of his cock. When his fingers met the mushroomed tip, he squeezed. “I hope you want to be fucked hard today.”

  “It’s been a long day?”

  “Longer than I wanted.” He licked his lips. An intense yearning dotted his next words. “I need you. I need your body. Your scent. Your mouth. Your pussy. I need a moment to escape.”

  “You can have all of me.”

  “Hmmm.” He slid into the tub, taking up the space with his presence. As soon as he came close, he gathered me into his huge arms. The bubbly water swished in the tub, spilling a little over the golden edge.

  He kissed me and then pulled away. “What else did you do?”

  “I watched the news a little and tried to catch up with the world.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “A famous ballerina was murdered. Lots of killings in Moscow too.” I felt nervous saying it, wondering if he actually knew any of the people involved. “There’d been some bombing in New York.”

  That exhaustion returned to his gaze. “Yeah. Everybody’s been busy.”

  “There’s a big fund to do a huge clean up in Harlem. Musicians and celebrities are leading a big concert. It’s been trending all day.”

  “I should send something to their fund.”

  “That’s really nice.” I thought about the things he’d told me and wondered if he knew more about the Manhattan bombing too. He’d explained that the Russians had been involved in internal fighting, and the battleground had started in New York.

  A lot of these things were stuff I didn’t need to know. I had no foot in this life. At times, I found myself going back to Shalimar’s advice.

  “Mind your business.”

  After all that, I knew what Jean-Pierre had done to see me, I wondered if that advice still applied.

  Shalimar had served as my aunt’s, brothel manager and personal assistant. Anytime I couldn’t find Aunt Celina, I called Shalimar. When I needed help coming up with Christmas or birthday ideas for Aunt Celina, I went to her.

  In our small exchanges, we would comment about the weather or current state of politics, and then jump off the phone. Any dinner party, or charity gathering Aunt Celina held, Shalimar and I hung around together, chatting amongst the city’s influencers. During summers, Aunt Celina vacationed throughout Europe, leaving the Candy Shop in her hands.

  Later, Shalimar and I worked together. She’d become my unofficial pimp.

  And now, I learned that a lot of my life wasn’t really reality. Even Shalimar. She’d been helping him in some ways…and blocking him at other times.

  This is my business now.

  Still, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to push him on the topic, when he looked so tired. I left the bombings in New York, the murders in Russia, and switched to another subject. “There’s a lunar eclipse coming next week. On Tuesday and Wednesday, the sun, Earth, and moon will perfectly line up.”

  “You love astronomy?”

  “When it’s something cool like this. They’re calling it a super blood moon.”

  Curiosity replaced the weariness in his eyes. “Why is it called a blood moon?”

  “It will turn red. The color comes from sunlight scattering through the Earth's atmosphere. It’s the same effect that causes the red color in sunsets.” I winked at him. “I only know that, because I googled it several times.”

  “I’m still impressed.” He ran his wet fingers through his hair, smoothing it down. “Do you want to watch it next week?”

  “Definitely. We’ll get to see it in France.”

  “Then, that’s a date.”

  My body warmed.

  “I’m glad you gave us a chance.” He leaned toward me. His full lips brushed against mine. A shiver ran through me.

  He whispered, “Are you nervous about your decision?”

  “Not completely.”

  “Hmmm.” He pulled me closer to him. “Anything I can do to make you comfortable?”

  I gestured to the gold tub that we sat in. “I think I’m beyond comfortable.”

  “Have I met your standards, princess?”

  I couldn’t keep the silly grin off my face. “Yes.”

  “Would you like me to pour you some wine?”

  “No,” I whispered. “You would have to let me go, and I missed your arms today.”

  Groaning, he kissed me. And his mouth was better than any wine or berries. Silky and soft. He lifted me onto him, showing effortless strength. My worry about his day and our situation, shifted to arousal. I found myself on his lap as he teased me with his tongue and explored my body with those big hands.

  The jet streams continued to direct the water, swirling the petals among the bubbles and us.

  Unable to touch him like I yearned, I moved away from his mouth and repositioned myself, straddling those big thighs. Grunting, he brought my mouth back to him. His cock bobbed in the warm water, bumping gently against my pussy.

  I moaned.

  With both hands, he cupped my breasts, gorging on my already stiffening nipples like a starving man. Sucking with so much determination, as if hoping milk would appear. I almost wished it did.

  I wanted to feed him. Give him all of me. Nourish and satisfy him. Pleasure and rejuvenate him.

  “Fuck,” he groaned.

  In the hot tub, the water slicked over his hair and skin. I loved him wet. Wet with the water and wet with me.

  A moan left me. He hadn’t even filled me with his cock, and an orgasm was building in pressure and intensity.

  “What is your magic?” He lapped at my skin.

  I drowned in him.

  “I was upset, and now you’re in my arms and I’m back to serenity.” He teased my nipples with the tip of his tongue, tormenting those sensitive points. I writhed against him and those muscled arms.

  “You’re my refuge.” The deep notes of his voice played delicious melodies all over my skin. “You’re the peace in my soul.”

  And I couldn’t speak. He always took my breath and words away.

  His cock hardened under me. It bobbed a li
ttle, and I couldn’t help myself. I rubbed my pussy against the length, humping his cock and him, as much as I could.

  He moved one of his hands from my breasts and slid them down between my legs, spreading my throbbing folds and teasing my clit. Tenderly, he twisted the bud between his two fingers.

  He was a master with erotic skill. I imagined my pussy as his violin, and him plucking a symphony with every moan he drew from me. My body erupted into a bundle of sensations. All my senses came alive.

  “Did you think of me today?” he whispered in my ear and slipped his finger inside of me.

  “Yes,” I moaned. “All day long. You’re always on my mind.”

  “So, I torment you as much as you do me?”

  Before I could respond, he discovered my g-spot. And my words turned into staccato groans. When I could finally speak, I whispered, “Please.”

  He grunted but didn’t stop fingering me. If anything, he pushed me further, delivering shivers of delight to my back and breasts, even my thighs trembled.

  “Give it to me.” I moved the head of his cock to my pussy. Hungry and ready to be filled with him. Needing him so bad, I didn’t take my time. I slipped him inside, craving him deep and spreading me wide open.

  “Yes. This is what I need.” He raised his hips and thrust into me, raising us both out of the water a little.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” I cried out, begging for more, begging to never be released as he pumped into me. In and out. In and out. The room spun around me as he slid his cock in and deliciously out.

  His thrusts grew harder, faster… causing waves through the bubbling tub. Water splashed against the sides. In between strokes, he sucked on my nipple. Together, we raced after our climax. I rode him, and he met me with hard thrusts.

  “Oh, Jean-Pierre, I’m coming.” My climax rushed in like a train. I exploded. Came hard. My body pulsed and hummed in a mass of shivers and spasms. And the whole time, he held me close to him, nibbling on my neck and groaning. That intense gaze. Those huge hands. That lovely cock.

  “Oui, princesse, orgasme pour moi.”

  And I ripped apart. Groaning within rippling water and his embrace. I fell apart, and he had me in those huge arms.

  Oh my god. . .