The Arrangement Anthology 2(146)

Just as the thought crosses my mind, Sean releases the collar and reaches around, clamping a nipple in each finger. “I told you to stop thinking.” He squeezes hard, and then twists.

I scream into the gag and butt my hips into his. Sean moans and slips his hands up my sides, taking hold of my hair with one hand, and the collar with his other. He tugs and I buck. If I think, he pulls my hair so hard it makes me cry.

My stomach dips as I find a rhythm, pressing into him as he pounds me into the bed, using me as his plaything. Pushing up with my hands, I try to press harder into him. I’m feeling so much, worry and lust collide and I don’t want him to stop. With every thrust he takes me higher and higher, wildly tugging my collar as he does so. I don’t want him to stop. I need this, I need him.

At the last second, he pulls away, making me scream with frustration into my gag. Then I feel his hands turning me over, laying me on my back. Once again, he’s on top of me. My hands are pinned over my head and I can’t see. He pushes into me over and over again, riding me harder and harder. We rock against each other, climbing higher and higher until I finally shatter. When I scream into the gag, Sean’s thrusting becomes frantic. He pushes my legs apart and slams into me harder and faster until he reaches his climax. When he does, he pulls out and leans over my stomach, letting his warmth flow over my skin. I gasp as I feel it slide down my sides and into my navel.

A moment later, I feel his tongue against my skin, hot and far from sated. He strokes my skin, licking up every last bit, until he settles onto my arm. Leaning his head on my breast, he speaks.

“You’re right. That was what I wanted.” The voice is wrong. I panic when I hear it and can’t believe what Sean’s done, until he removes the blindfold and I see Marty is the man lying on my arm.

Heart pounding, I scream, darting upright in bed, the nightmare losing its grip on me.

My body is a hot mess, covered in sweat from my mashed up nightmare. Gripping my face in my hands, I begin to tremble. Pulling my knees into my chest, I remember where I am, and keep telling myself it wasn’t real. The strange thing was, until that point of the dream, I liked it.

I don’t even want to consider what that means. A collar? I like breathing. It’s not optional, so why the hell would I want Sean to put a collar on me? Frightened, I sit back against the headboard and push my damp hair out of my face. My body is covered in sweat, so I kick off the sheets. I wonder what nightmares are going through Sean’s head tonight. They can’t be worse than mine.





Chapter 15

Thank God for meal bars. For the past four days, I’ve been hiding in this crappy room pulling plaster out of my hair and eating the box of meal bars I grabbed before checking in. It was an added risk, but the old ladies’ comment about CVS and picking up some items made me realize that I need to stay out of sight. When Sean realizes those envelopes are empty, he’s going to come looking for me, and I can’t move until I know what I’m doing.

I’ve barely slept, save that first night. My mind is filled with strange dreams when I do. Besides, I’m afraid of being discovered and my heart won’t stop racing. Last night there was a knock on my door—it leads into the parking lot—and I thought he found me. But the person gave up quickly. He must have had the wrong door.

I feel like a squirrel hiding in a tree, waiting for the cats to walk away. The thing is, if they get desperate enough, they won’t wait. I need to choose—Black or Constance. Both are utterly evil, but both would want these documents. If I hold back the Ferro accounts, Constance won’t kill me. I already copied them to the cloud to cover my ass in case someone takes the originals. That’s my exit plan. I just haven’t figured out how to pull Sean away with me.

What if he wants this? The little voice in the back of my head whispers to me. It’s not the first time this thought has crossed my mind.

I’ve been living by fear and going against my gut for too long. My gut says he’s not doing this for him—that he doesn’t want it. That’s his carrot—that’s what I can use to lure him away—but I don’t know how.

I sit up on the bed and flip on the TV. The same story is playing over and over again. A blonde woman with perfectly applied makeup repeats the headline: “Marty Masterson turned himself in to authorities for the attempted murder of Sean Ferro. When Mr. Ferro explained that Masterson was his bodyguard, all charges were dropped. Masterson explains his weapon misfired causing a—” I turn it off. It’s the same bullshit story they’ve been telling for three days. I can’t believe people bought that bunch of crap.