Page 19 of Forced Arrangement

As if sensing my thoughts, Angelo shifts in his seat, his gaze sliding over to me. His eyes are bright and intense. It’s the kind of look that makes it hard to breathe. I try to ignore it, try to focus on anything else, but it’s impossible.

The air between us is charged, crackling with unspoken tension, and I can feel it pulling us closer together, drawing me into his orbit.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I probably sound like a petulant child, but I can’t help it.

“Like what?” His voice is low and inviting. I feel it in my core as it washes over me. I can’t help it that I’m clenching my thighs together, and I release a shaky breath as his eyes follow the movement of my legs.

“Like what, Sophia?” he says again.

I swallow, already feeling my nipples tightening to hard buds. Maybe it hadn’t been the brightest idea to wear my flimsiest lace bra when I knew how much he affected me, or maybe a part of me had wanted to be ready for…for what?

What’s that thing Justine always says? When in doubt, go for hard, unfiltered honesty.

“Like you're thinking about fucking me.”

Something shifts in his gaze. His eyes narrow slightly, as if he has been waiting for those words. He stands, his movements fluid and deliberate, and he crosses the small space between us. I watch him, my breath catching in my throat as he reaches out, his hand brushing against my arm, sending a shiver down my spine.

“And if I am?”

My heart pounds in my chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers trace a line down my arm, his touch light but electrifying. I look up at him, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, everything else falls away—the fear, the uncertainty, the questions.

All that is left is him, and the way he makes me feel.

“I should tell you to fuck right off.”

That makes him smile.

“Will you?”

I shake my head.

“Good,” he replies, his voice a low rumble. “Because I’ve been waiting for this.”

My breath hitches, every nerve in my body on fire as his lips brush against mine. The touch is so light it’s almost maddening. I can feel the heat radiating from him, and the tension coils tighter within me, ready to snap.

And then, in one swift movement, he closes the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that is anything but gentle. It’s fierce, hungry, filled with all the pent-up desire we have been trying so hard to ignore.

I gasp against his mouth, my hands gripping his shirt as I kiss him back, all thoughts of resistance melting away.

He pulls me closer, his hands roaming over my body, exploring, claiming. I can feel his heartbeat against mine, the steady rhythm mirroring the rapid pace of my own. Everything else fades into the background.

There is only this, only him, and the way he makes me burn.

“Angelo,” I breathe, my voice full of desperation.

“Say that again.”

He sounds crazed, his fingers already slipping underneath the hem of my dress, teasing me as they progress toward my aching core.

“Angelo.” It doesn’t even sound like my voice speaking his name. I sound like a woman in a porn video. I feel a sharper throb of want in my pussy.

“Fuck, I've dreamed of you calling out to me, just like this, but in my dreams. You’re naked and draped over my lap, and my handprint is on your ass.”

I was wet before, but his words turn on the waterworks for real. I feel his fingers sliding through my wetness and he growls approvingly.

“What are you waiting for, then?”

He doesn't need any more encouragement before he’s yanking the dress over my head and tossing it to the floor. His calloused palm slides down my throat and into the valley between my lace-clad breasts.

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