Page 11 of The P Arrangement

He was right. I couldn’t change what had happened between us, but I could enjoy Preston here and now.

“Exactly.” It was as good of a reason as any for me to keep my piercing.

“Then, let’s show the neighbors your pretty pussy while I make you come.”

I moaned and bucked my hips against his hand.

I felt him smile against my ear.

“Still the same. You’re such a slut, Delaney, wanting everyone to see you soak my hand as you orgasm all over it.” He nipped my ear. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted with a hiss.

God, I loved it when he called me a slut. Not very feminist of me, but just hearing the word come out of his mouth had me dripping.

Preston and I might be divorced, but the man knew me better than anyone. And he knew how much I loved the idea of someone watching me. Of someone catching us in the act.

But he also understood how bad it would be for either of us to actually be found with our pants literally down, due to our careers. He always knew how to turn me on without either of us losing our jobs.

It was one of the reasons I loved him.

Used to love him, I corrected.

Either way, not many men were comfortable with giving in to my desires, like Preston had been. Trust me, I had tried to find them. Before and after him.

“Spread your legs and arch your ass, Laney.” Preston pushed two fingers into me and pressed his thumb against my clit, under my piercing. Knowing my body so well, he hit my G-spot without even trying and used the exact amount of pressure on my swollen nub. “Fuck, Delaney, you’re already going to come.”

He was right.

He tugged on my nipple and twisted. “So tight and wet.”

I whimpered, tingles starting to form between my legs.

“Still the best cunt.” He sucked on my neck and whispered, “Still my favorite cunt.”

It couldn’t be true, but my sex-hazed brain didn’t care because the tingles turned into full-on tremors as my climax seized control of my body, crashing through me.

Preston held me close as my legs gave out underneath me, and I gasped for air.

I hadn’t orgasmed like that since before Paxton was born. Not even by my own hand.

God, did it feel good.

Preston stole his hand from between my thighs and swiped his fingers over my bottom lip. “Open, Delaney,” he commanded.

But I already knew what he wanted, and I sucked him into my mouth before he even finished. I got off on the idea of people watching us. He got off on me tasting myself after he made me come.

“My turn,” he growled.

“Your turn?”

With several smooth movements, Preston was facing me and moving me away from the sliding door, toward the very table we’d just eaten dinner off of. With a small nudge, he pushed me to lie back.

Stretching my legs wide, I was grateful the sun had just gone down and the closest light was out in the front hall so he couldn’t see between my pussy well. I didn’t want him to know how much he still meant to me. Not with me almost completely naked while he was dressed. And not after he had just played my body like an instrument he’d been practicing his whole life.

“My turn to watch.” He ran a fingertip up my slit. “And my turn to taste.” He leaned over my body, taking my breasts in his big, strong hands as his mouth hovered over my cleft. “I’ve fucking missed your taste,” he muttered right before his thick, beautiful lips descended on my pussy like he was trying to devour me.

He licked and sucked on every inch of my flesh, to the point I was squirming on the hard wood under me. One would think after having such a great orgasm, I wouldn’t be aching again so soon, but the man knew what he was doing.

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