Page 10 of A Practical Arrangement

Grant’s hand reaches between my legs and sinks into my wetness. With each pass of his skilled hand, slickness drips onto my thighs as I give myself fully to him.

"Forgive me. I don’t think I can go easy on you.” Grant groans, thrusting his fingers in and out of me with force. “I’m dying to see my cock disappear into your tight pussy. I want to ravish and ruin it, imprinting my cock so your pussy never stops craving me.”

“But I’ve never done this before. I don’t think I can handle your whole cock,” I gasp, pretending to fear the one thing I crave, then sway my hips, riding his fingers like a rodeo cowboy, gyrating my body around his hand like a puppet putting on a show for adults only. And just when I reach the edge of ecstasy, everything explodes into a kaleidoscope of pleasure so intense that it feels like being hit by a train.

“Oh, my God!" I cling onto his hand, savoring a moment of relief as waves of bliss rush through me, leaving me nothing more than a hot mess of satisfied bones.

Without missing a beat, Grant envelopes me in his embrace and hoists my trembling legs onto his back.

“Grant!” I forget our little game and let out a bloodcurdling shriek as he thrusts his enormous cock inside me. I am filled with a mix of pleasure and pain, my body adjusting to the sensation of being taken by the only man I’ve ever wanted.

Grant’s hands grip mine tightly, our fingers intertwined as we both lose ourselves in the intensity of the moment. My heart pounds and the sound of our heavy breaths fill the air, creating a symphony that is uniquely ours.

“Baby, you should see what I see. You should see how good you’re taking me. This pussy is so fucking perfect, I think it wasmade just for me.” Grant growls, pulling out and teasing my wetness with his thick cock. He repeats this motion over and over, hitting my clit each time and building the rhythm of my orgasm until I’m consumed by pleasure.

“More. Please, more.” I can't tear my eyes away from his sculpted body, admiring every chiseled muscle as he relentlessly pounds into me with the intense passion that I've craved for years.

He’s twice my age and we’re at different stages of life, but his passion and stamina eclipse mine. But what I lack in experience, I make up for in enthusiasm. Desperate to please him, I roll my hips, meeting his relentless pace as he claims every place inside me. The harder he drives into me, the more I feel, and the wetter I become.

“I’ll give you whatever I can, whenever you want it.” Grant’s lips capture mine in a passionate kiss that seals my love for this beautiful man. His hands grip my breasts and I wrap my legs tighter around him, digging my nails into his back. He thrusts even harder, faster, driving with purpose as our bodies entwine and meld together before we tumble into a sticky, erotic bliss.

“You're unbelievable." Grant's warm breath tickles my ear as his lips trail a path of delicate kisses down my neck and send electric shivers through my body. The scent of our mutual arousal fills my senses and makes me long to feel him inside me again. “You’re coming home with me. I won’t take no for an answer.” His hands trace delicate patterns on my back as I melt into his embrace, happy but slightly stunned. I can’t believe I just lost my virginity to my father’s boss.

Chapter 13

Grant

Two Weeks Later

Being alone has never botheredme. I find solace in my own company, and although I have a tight-knit group of friends from my prep school days, it's rare for me to have enough free time to spend with them. My work consumes me, drives me to push harder and strive for more. My ambition is what sustains me, and my success is the validation of years spent tirelessly pursuing my goals.

But then I discovered love. The kind of love that fills your soul and completes you. And now, having tasted the immense joy of being connected to someone on such a deep level, I can't imagine ever letting it go. The love I feel with Ella in my arms seems to have altered my DNA and forever changed me for the better. How does a man walk away from that?

I’m wide awake but it’s too early to get out of bed. The sun has yet to rise and the rain crashing against my windows wants to lull me back to sleep, but the thoughts plaguing my mind refuse to cooperate. I’m exhausted but happy—happier than I’ve ever been in my life. And I don’t want to ruin it.

Ella is sound asleep. Her long dark hair lies swept across her pillow, but her beautiful face is hidden under the blankets. Thanks to my incessant need to keep my place like an icebox,she’s had to resort to burrowing under a self-made cocoon and curling into the fetal position for warmth. Last night I pulled out a space heater for her side of the bed, but apparently that isn’t enough to warm her tiny frame. Tonight, I’ll need to suck it up and light the fireplace. I just hope the flood of sweat I produce doesn’t repulse her.

I never thought I’d get used to someone sleeping in my bed, but now I don’t think I can go back to sleeping alone. Her rhythmic breaths and the gentle rise and fall of her chest serve as a lullaby. When she curls her body next to mine, she feels like the long-lost puzzle piece that’s finally completed me. And of course, there’s the hours of mind-blowing sex that practically puts me into a coma. Every day I wake up grateful to be alive and eager for our next adventure.

Still, there’s a problem. This isn’t what I want.

Ella thinks this is a mutually beneficial arrangement that will someday soon meet its expiration date and die a quick, painless death. As much as I don’t want to hold her back and tie her to a ridiculous old man who can’t possibly have anything in common with a twenty-two-year-old woman barely entering the prime of her life, I don’t think I could survive without her. Whatever is happening between us isn’t meant to end. But that doesn’t mean she feels the same way.

“Grant Whitlock, for the love of Christ, turn on the heater or fireplace or I promise you, I will use your Armani suits to start a fire.” Ella’s face emerges from under her fort of blankets, her cheeks flushed with irritation as she scolds me for turning off the central heat while she slept. But I couldn't help it—the room was stifling and suffocating like a sauna.

“I’m on it.” I jump out of bed, naked as the day I was born, and grab the remote for the thermostat. “Sorry, sweetheart. It got uncomfortably warm.”

“Do you have a long day today?” Satisfied that warm air is now descending from a nearby vent, she lifts her arms over her head and groans as she stretches. Unlike me, she’s fully clothed, having slipped out of bed sometime in the night to layer her body in warm pajamas.

I might as well get used to sleeping in a sweltering room. Winter is coming and I can’t have my girl shivering all night.

I know Ella isn’t technically my girlfriend, but that's the only way I can label our relationship. That’s what I want her to be. The only thing I want more is to be her husband. But despite my desire for us to be together, I am unsure if she shares those feelings. She has never explicitly expressed wanting something more solid between us.

“I’ll be home just after 5:00. How about we go to dinner? I can make reservations at Angelo’s, or we grab some theater tickets. It’s your choice.” I pull Ella into my arms and rest my chin on the crook of her neck. Her warmth radiates into my chest and melts my heart. It’s a daily occurrence. I’ve never been an affectionate person, but since she came into my life, I can’t get enough of it. My priorities and ambitions have changed. I don’t give a damn about making more money. I want to make a home and babies with Ella.

“I have an appointment with the university registrar at 3:00 and then I’m having drinks with a few friends at one of our old stomping grounds. But I can grab dinner on the way home and we can watch movies tonight.” Ella brings her lips to mine, and I temporarily ignore my irritation to indulge in my new favorite pastime—kissing her.

“Who are you having drinks with? Gale?” I break our kisses, my lips still tingling from the warmth of hers. My heart pounds nervously as I wonder if this happy-hour reunion includes men.

---