Page 1 of The Arrangement

Prologue

“Fuck yes, I want this.”

He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of my panties and pulls them down. They drop to my ankles and he quickly places his big, rough hand between my thighs.

I moan at his touch, bucking into it, yearning for more.

More is just what he gives me.

His hand finds my tender pussy, and I’m already soaking wet for him. His other hand effortlessly unclasps the back of my bra and I help him, slipping the straps over my shoulders.

I’m bare before him. Exposed.

But it feels so goddamn right.

We kiss and he touches me, pleasure coursing through my body as he spreads me open and teases my clit. The intensity is so much I can’t help but lean forward and rest my head against his big, round shoulder. He places his other hand on the small of my back, keeping me against him.

“Keep touching me like that. Please. Please.” The words come out in one hot breath, and he seems to have no intention of stopping.

Each touch, each slow circle around my clit with his fingertip brings me closer and closer and closer until… I shut my eyes, letting out a silent shriek against his skin.

He brings me to a roaring orgasm, my legs shaking underneath me as I come.

He holds me and touches me, making sure he can feel me as I come.

When the pleasure fades, he guides me directly to the bed. Standing before me, he takes a moment to look at me, to measure me from head to toe, his eyes roaming with sparkling arousal and sincere admiration.

I’m bare and defenseless before him, yet there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

“I need more,” I manage.

He smiles, darkness smoldering in his eyes as he grabs me by the back of the head and pulls me in for a kiss—it’s sloppy and feverish, desperate and demanding. “You’ll do what I tell you, and you’ll get more.”

“What… What do you want me to do?”

“Touch yourself,” he says, then takes a step back so he can watch me.

For a second, I’m lost. But then my body takes over, and my hands come up. I touch my breasts first, while he watches me, one hand covering his groins.

He squeezes his erection through the fabric of his pants, and by the stars, it turns me on beyond belief to see him like this. I massage my breasts with slow, deliberate motions, the pleasure coursing through me like wildfire.

“Like this?” I ask, my voice uneven with a flurry of emotions.

“Pinch your nipples until it hurts.”

“Okay.”

“That’s not how you answer, baby.”

I lose myself in his eyes, my mind barely processing the command. But again, my body knows what to do, moving my lips and tongue accordingly. “Yes, sir…”

“Do it,” he says, and I gladly obey, pinching my nipples tighter and tighter.

A moan escapes my throat, ragged and faint as I work myself into another frenzy, but he has no intention of letting me go through it on my own. “Lay on the bed, keep doing what you’re doing,” he says.

Again, I’m like an automated robot, abandoning myself to fate as I lay on the bed and continue teasing myself, kneading my breasts and pinching my nipples. Harder. Tighter. Oh, God, it feels so good to do this while he’s watching, while he’s stroking himself.

“OH, FUCK!” I gasp as he spreads my legs and slides his tongue between my wet folds.

---