Page 159 of Their Arrangement
“I know,” I said. “You’ve been holding it in all day. The ache. The heat. The want.”
Her head tilted slightly.
Her breath hitched.
And I knew—she was close.
I used my other hand to slide around her waist. Held her there. Anchored her. My thumb pressed just above the edge of her corset while my other palm kept working—rubbing her through the fabric, coaxing her body to let go.
“You don’t have to be strong here,” I said against her hair. “You don’t have to be anything but mine.”
Her breath broke into a soft, desperate whimper.
Good.
That’s what I wanted.
Not submission.
Surrender. There’s a difference. One is a choice.The other isinstinct.
Her thighs clenched around my hand.
She was shaking.
So close.
I pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck.
“You’re allowed to come for me like this,” I whispered. “Messy. Overwhelmed. Turned on when you shouldn’t be.”
She choked on a breath. Tried to hold it back. And that’s when I moved my hand slightly higher. Found the right pressure. The perfect rhythm.
Whispered it again:
“Come for me, Cloe.”
Her breath caught.
Her body locked.
Then—release.
Silent. Shattering.
Her head bowed. Her hips trembled. Her thighs clenched hard around my hand and I felt the rush of wet heat even through the layers of fabric.
I held her while she shook.
Held her while she came undone. Held her until her legs nearly gave out—and even then, I didn’t let her fall.
I wrapped both arms around her now, turning her in the circle of my chest. Cradling her without softness. Without apology.
She didn’t lift her head. Didn’t meet my gaze. But she let me hold her. That was enough. For now.
I didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just held her. Her breath was still unsteady, shoulders rising and falling in sharp little waves like she was trying to pretend she hadn’t just come in my arms. That her body hadn’t betrayed her pride.
But I knew the truth. I’d felt it. I’d caused it. And I’d do it again.
