Page 56 of The Arrangement

I whimpered as he settled, leaving me completely at his mercy as one of my hands shot out to grasp where his hair would be if he weren’t wearing his mask.

“I’m not going to let you fall, Clark.” The man’s voice was so deep I could feel the rumble in his chest, my legs crossed behind him. “I’m particularly fond of Chapter 16. But reader’s choice.” That was all the warning I got as he flattened his tongue over my clit.

“Fuck, Quinn!” I shouted and immediately clapped a hand over my mouth as I felt him pause, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks. I expected him to stop, to call his colors, but he began to devour me with a fervor I hadn’t felt in my life.

“Chapter 16.” It was all that he growled as I felt one of his hands slip between my thighs, my opening completely exposed as his finger slipped inside me easily.

I was trembling, barely coherent, as I opened the book to chapter 16, knowing the passage by heart but needing something to hold on to because fuck if he wasn’t right; this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in my life.

My voice was shaking as I read,

“‘May she wake in torment!’” He cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion.”

Wolfe pushed another finger into my slick opening to join his first, gently massaging my inner walls as I squirmed on his tongue, one hand gripping his hair through his mask.

Chancing a look down, I nearly came at that very moment. Because while my eyes were on the book, Wolfe’s golden eyes were on me as he ate my pussy like it was his last meal. He cocked his head slightly, his gaze moving to the book in my hands as if reminding me of my one task.

“You said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murderers do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth.”

His tongue was circling me while my hips rotated against his mouth against my will.

“Be with me always—take my form—drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!”

“Good girl, now come for me.” I was convinced I was not of this plane of existence; my body was floating, held up by his strong arms as I dropped the book with a thud as both my hands grasped the shelves behind me. I was held up by old wooden boards and Wolfe’s grip as my hips found a rhythm against his tongue, chasing my pleasure as he moaned into my warmth.

Feeling the overwhelming heat curling inside of me, I whined, biting my lip to muffle the noises as I felt my pleasure cresting.

“Let go, Clark.” As soon as he growled that, he pressed another finger into me, stretching me almost as wide as his cock had. It wasn’t the fingers or his tongue that finally brought me to the completion but the fact that he had said Clark. Not Lace. Not even a ‘good girl.’

I came with a shattering cry, unable to stifle the sob that made its way out of me as my blood roared in my ears, and I was supported by Wolfe’s strength alone. Thank god for his upper body strength because I was oblivious to how my body was occupying space or where I was as I felt his fingers slip from me, leaving me feeling empty yet satiated.

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on my back, blinking into the warm lights of the ceiling of Hemingway's, my chest heaving as I attempted to catch my breath. Feeling movement next to me, I turned my head to see Quinn’s body lying next to mine, his dark hair plastered to his forehead.

“Wow. I’ll never look at Brontë the same way again.” It was all I could manage as my voice cracked in the silence. Quinn still hadn’t spoken, his eyes twisted shut, his tattooed forearm splayed across his heaving chest. “I can return the favor, you know.”

Quinn choked out a laugh before looking down somewhat sheepishly. “Yeah, I think I’m good.” My brows pinched together as I sat up to see he definitely had…enjoyed himself.

Raising my eyebrows, I shot him a look. “Really?” The man rolled over, grabbing a towel from the box he had brought to wipe himself down.

“Don’t look so proud, Clark,” he quipped, tossing a clean hand towel to me, which I gratefully grabbed as I cleaned my shaking legs.

I was about to make a joke until I saw how he rotated his shoulder with a grimace. “Did I mess up your shoulder?” I immediately went to his side, guilt filling me, replacing the pleasure he had just pulled from me. “I’m so sorry. I knew I was moving too much!”

Quinn brushed me away playfully, “You weren’t; you did perfectly so calm down.” He pulled on a pair of sweats as he padded over to the camera, stopping the recording and reviewing the footage. His brows raised as he beckoned me over, saying, “Look how the light works here. This footage is amazing!”

I hoped he didn’t notice how hard I swallowed as I walked over, and wow, he was right. It did look amazing, and honestly, I was a little surprised at the arch of my back. But my attention immediately went to the way Quinn’s muscular arms held me upright, the way his head dove between my legs like a man worshiping a deity. How would I tell him I forgot we were filming?

Easily, of course. I wouldn’t at all.

“That looks great,” I agreed, plastering a smile on my face as I gathered my clothing, feeling more exposed than I ever had in the last hour and a half. More exposed than when I took off my sweatshirt or when I leaned into my forearms as Wolfe watched his dick disappear inside of me. It was more revealing than when I was grinding myself onto his face in my workplace.

“You walk to work?” He asked, putting everything back in place—the chairs, the pillows, the decor that could’ve given clues as to where we were. Quinn placed everything back, and it was like we weren’t even there.

“Um, yeah, I did. I wasn’t expecting to stay so late,” I admitted, taking a longer time than usual to tie my shoes so that I wouldn’t have to look up at him.

“I’ll take you home, it’s fucking freezing out.” The tone didn’t broker any argument, and honestly, I wasn’t going to. It was cold out, and my body was pliant from our sexual activities, and no part of me wanted to walk out in the chill night air for twenty minutes.

I found myself staring at the floor while my brain decided to catch up with the last few hours, and Quinn’s hand on my shoulder jerked me violently from my reverie as he offered me my coat.

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