Sophia wearily leaned against his chest, remaining silent and downcast.
Capone added bath salts and essential oils to the water, and the faint scent of lavender, slightly unfamiliar yet very relaxing, filled the air.
His large hand cupped the water and poured it over Sophia, gently massaging her soft, white chest and flat stomach, cleaning her little by little.
"Does it feel good?" His voice seemed to have a misty quality, sultry and seductive, as his lips lightly kissed her rounded shoulder and slowly traveled down the curve of her back.
His lips, carrying a burning warmth, pressed against the scar from the whip. Sophia felt as though an old wound had been torn open again, and the painful memories rushed back all at once. She suddenly sat up straight, biting her lower lip so hard that she almost cried out.
"What's wrong?" Capone was startled by her reaction. His arm wrapped around her chest, pulling her tightly against him, locking her tense body in place.
