Page 148 of Their Arrangement
Pushed in.
One slow, brutal thrust.
I gasped—not from pain, from the stretch. From how he filled every part of me like he knew it was his.
Jesus.
I…I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but let my head roll back and be swept away in the delicious feel as he pulled out, only to thrust in so damn hard it made my entire body jolt.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s what you look like when you’re owned.”
He fucked me against the wall.
Deep.
Controlled.
Every thrust claimed something. My breath. My pride. My soul. His hand slid down my throat. Not to choke. To feel. To control.
“Say it.”
I was sobbing.
“Yours.”
“Again.”
“Yours.”
He didn’t stop. Not when I clenched. Not when I cried out. Not when I shattered. He followed me down, teeth at my shoulder.
“You don’t come for anyone else.”
“I don’t.”
“Only me. You got it?”
“Only you.”
The chain at my throat burned. When he pulled out, he didn’t clean me up. Didn’t kiss me again. He just fixed my dress. Brushed my hair back. Pressed his lips to my ear and whispered:
“Sold.”
And outside? The auction carried on. But the only thing sold that night?—
Was me.
20
CLOE
Something was wrong.I knew it before I reached my desk. Before I even sat down. Even befoe the delicious ache between my thighs from last night bloomed.
It was subtle—barely noticeable—but my body clocked it faster than my brain did. The angle was off. My chair pulled out slightly too far. My keyboard was shifted right.
And the desk itself? It had been turned. Not much. Just enough. Just enough that when I sat down, I would be aligned perfectly with the one place I tried not to look.
Wolfe’s office.
