The Arrangement 21 (The Arrangement #21) (4 page)

T
he crazy chick
inside my brain is dancing naked with the burning flag. She skips around like a cracked-out banshee, enjoying this. I chose it, right? I should like things I select for myself. I love Sean, but OMG.

I'm standing in the upstairs room and glancing around. The floors are polished stone, and the walls are bare, except for some racks hanging from the ceiling. They seem like they should hold rakes and shovels, but they're empty. Where the hell are brooms!

There are no windows up here. No clock. Very little light. No chandelier. The stone beneath my feet is chilled, but it's not what has me frozen in place. It's something else, something resembling a pool, but I'm not that dumb. It's a slim, clear case about five feet tall, with a hinged top that stands open. Above it dangles a narrow pipe that almost looks like it belongs on a kitchen sink. My eyes fixate on the holes in the lid of the plastic prison.

My heart is ready to tear out of my chest and run the fuck away. We are so far past nightmare territory. It's a combination of dreams, fears, and reoccurring horrors I try to erase from my mind on a daily basis.

Worry pinches my brow no matter how hard I try to act like this is normal. Because everyone builds a shed with a torture chamber in the attic on their property. I don't realize I'm holding my breath until I suck in a gasp and feel my lungs burn.

"I can't do this." Terror streaks through me, crying out for sane Avery to save me from the naked nut dancing in my mind, chanting that I can do anything!

Sean grabs me by the wrist, preventing me from bolting butt-naked across the yard. At this point, Henry Thomas seems sane. Then again, this is his house.

Sean's voice is firm. "We talk. We never run away. Sit." He points to the floor, and the command sounds a little too dog and master for me.

"Do you—? That's what nightmares are made of, Sean!" I stutter, pointing—not sitting—and trying to make my mouth say real words, because holy fuckbunnies! No! I shake my head vigorously and step away from him.

"Avery, you don't even know what I want to do." He smiles like this is funny.

I slap his chest and yell at him. My head aches as I scream with my hands balled into fists at my sides. "This is not all right! I can't even fathom how this is here, why there's an Avery-sized fish tank in Henry's shed." I blink furiously and bellow, "Wherearethebrooms!" It comes out in a crazy rush so that it sounds like one word. My arms are tense, and I fling them out in front of me, palms up, making a very logical point with a very irrational man.

His response is a soft smile and light laughter. He grins so adoringly at me that a dimple appears on his cheek beneath all that scruff, along with a lopsided smile that's more coy than menacing. He tries to take my hands, but I scream something incoherently, and he backs away. "You want a broom? Why?"

"You think I'm asking weird questions? Are you fucking serious? Why is that tank the same size as me? Why are there plastic thingies that appear very similar to manacles right where my hands would be? Why Sean?" I get up in his face and poke his chest. I feel crazy, like I should run away.

"Stop thinking. This is about feeling."

"I FEEL NOT ALL RIGHT!"

Still smiling, he steps toward me with a scrap of silk in his hand. "Then stop looking." He moves behind me, lifting the piece of my former slip and placing it over my eyes.

As he's tightening it, getting ready to tie a knot, my hand darts up and jerks it away. Whirling, around, I plead, "You won't hurt me. Promise me that, say it." The words are all air, and I'm beyond panicked.

Sean reaches for my face, cupping my cheeks. "Do you trust me?"

I watch him for a few moments without speaking. I do, but this is too much. I finally feel myself nodding. Sean moves behind me again and ties the blindfold in place.

I
expect
my wrists and ankles to follow, but he remains at my back and pulls me to him.

His body is hot, and his skin is slightly damp with sweat. It makes me wonder what he was doing before I came up. His voice is in my ear, but his hands travel from my outer thigh over the swell of my hips and to my waist. "Breathe for me. Slowly, deeply." I feel him inhale, his chest pressing to my back as he does it. I'm close to shaking, but I manage to take the next breath with him. We breathe together and by the third breath, I'm no longer shaking.

His hands begin to roam, sliding over my skin, tenderly sweeping his palm over my breasts and then down to my waist again. His neck is next to mine, his lips right by my ear. His breath is warm and perfect. I feel his whiskers against my skin when he moves, as he breathes.

Worry pinches my brow as I start to think about the tank again, and Sean can tell. His voice is in my ear, "Stop thinking."

"I'm not."

"You are." He nips my earlobe, pressing the soft flesh between his teeth and grazing the skin. I gasp, not expecting the accompanying swirling sensation in my lower body. His lips travel down my throat to the hollow of my neck where he licks my skin with gentle strokes of his tongue.

I melt. My knees no longer want to hold me, and the worried girl runs off with the flag chick, leaving my thoughts on nothing but the way I feel at that moment. His hot lips on my neck do something to me. It's that spot, nearly to the back, that turns my knees to jelly and makes my head feel woozy. I could get lost in that kiss, forget who I am and where we are.

There's a veil that can't be seen fighting to cover my mind from within. The longer his lips stay on that spot, the more I moan and reach back for him. I touch his hair, tangling it in my fingers, pulling. My back arches away from him, but that only makes Sean hold on tighter. His lips devour me, his tongue working that place until I can't stand.

I don't know how he moved me, but I'm pressing face first into a wall. The cold plaster makes me suck in audibly, but that sensation is fleeting. Sean's hands travel up and down my body as he battles me for control of my mind. That spot is so sensitive, so vulnerable. I feel a haze try to descend on my subconscious, but I won't allow it. It nearly swallows me whole when his hands cup my breasts. It comes close to overtaking me when his hand slips between my thighs, pressing me harder to the wall, stealing my breath away.

I shiver beneath him, wishing I could let go the way he wants. I did it before, but it's rare. As much as he likes control, so do I. Letting that irrational nude dancing girl overtake me sounds like an insanely stupid idea, but his lips and the repetitive smooth stroking of his hands convince me.

A sound comes from the back of my throat as my head tips back against his shoulder. I press my hips down, craving more pressure. He has me so turned on, so hot. I stand there blindly, facing the wall with my hands rooted to the plaster like a cop is patting me down in a very naughty way.

His lips pass over that sensitive spot, and my knees give out. Sean's leg presses between my legs and holds me up, pressing me to the wall. I can't stop thinking about taking him in my mouth, kneeling in front of him, and doing anything he wants.

The tank.

I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to go in there. I can't let him do that to me. My eyes flick open, and I'm staring at cream-colored silk. I reach to pull the blindfold off, but Sean grabs both my wrists and pins me to the wall.

I feel him close to me, his warm breath in my ear, "That stays on, Miss Smith, and if you want your hands free, I suggest you listen. Keep your palms on the wall when I release you."

I do as he says and then feel a cold rush of air on my back. He's stepped away. His voice comes from somewhere behind me. "Spread your legs shoulder width apart. Keep your hands where they are, and don't move."

My heart is racing and my body flushes with heat. Something dark and delicious is swirling inside me. It toys with the idea of letting the veil drop, of letting Sean take me higher and letting go. To just feel good for a while would b—

The thought is cut off when I notice his breath on my inner thigh. A moment later his face is pressing against my lower lips and his tongue sweeps between them, licking me with one wet sweep. I shudder and call out to him. I always want to touch him when he does that. My hands don't want to stay on the wall.

There's a sharp sting on my left butt cheek. He flicked me with something. It felt like hard fabric—a piece of leather? "Hands on the wall, high above your head. Lean forward, baby."

I do as he says, and realize as I lean forward, my back curves and forces my ass out. He's there again, between my legs, kissing me in places that make it difficult to stand. His rhythmic licks steal my breath, and when he presses his tongue deep within me, I wish I had something to grip. I clutch the wall and try so hard not to move, but I want to grind against his face. I want to feel my body become one with his, tensing around him over and over again.

I gasp his name and his tongue changes rhythm, does something else that makes my eyes close and my breath hitch. He likes to watch, to see what he does to me.

I finally understand his draw to the tank.

Sean brings me close to the edge but doesn't push me over. He stands at my back again, trailing kisses across the rises and falls of my body. He finds another spot that makes me breathless. My knees tremble, and his leg juts out, catching me. I grind against his knee as he kisses my back. His hands move up toward my breasts, and he holds them, stroking my taut nipples gradually. He teases them into erotic twin peaks, pleasuring me in ways I have no words to describe

My head tips to the side as the rest of my thoughts fade away. He lifts his head and trails kisses back to that mind-numbing slut button on my neck. I don't care this time. I don't fight him for control. His hands roam over my body as his lips press against that pulse point. The lusty fog clouds my mind again, rolling in low and filling the space, obscuring everything else.

I let it overtake me. I stop fighting against the feelings Sean's trying to show me. I go limp in his arms as my last bit of logic leaves my body. I can't see, I only feel. The V at the top of my legs is hot, pulsing, begging for things he hasn't offered. My lips swell as I consider turning and falling to my knees, and taking him in my mouth, sucking him as his hard length passes over my lips again and again. I want to taste him, to feel that hot, sweet part of him fill my mouth and drip down my throat.

Before I can do any of that, he sweeps me up in his arms and walks me across the room. I hang my head back, dangling it from his arm, not caring where we're going as long as he's with me. The terror that box inspired tries to break through, but I'm too far gone to care.

He sets me down, pressing against me until I step back. Cold bracelets close around my wrists. They're thick, and I know where I am, but I can't picture how he put me in that cell. Another strap closes around my throat, and the last is a belt around my waist. Panic begins to seep back through and it’s as if Sean senses it. He presses his body to mine, and I can feel how hard he is, how much he wants me. He whispers in my ear, "Trust me, Avery. Let go, and stay there. Control your fear."

Then he's gone. Something cold presses against my breasts, belly, and thighs as I hear a latch click shut. I breathe in sharply, tensing as the sound of water follows. It comes from above, dripping over my face in a thin stream, while also flowing up from below, the warm water around my ankles rising evenly.

The air is stagnant, and I know the box is closed. The only air comes in from the top where I saw the holes earlier. I flex my hands, stretching my fingers as water trickles down my fingertips and splashes into the rising waters below.

It's my nightmare, the one where I drown. The water from above trickles over my mouth streaming from side to side, making it feel like there's not enough air as the box fills from below. The level is still rising, passing my knees and bypassing places pressed painfully against the transparent walls.

He's watching. Sean is sitting there observing me, waiting for me to scream, to beg him to save me. At least, I think he is, unless he's got something worse planned.

My pulse races as I thrash my head from side to side, trying to avoid the water rolling down my face in sheets. I gasp and pull at the restraints on my wrists. I don't want to remember the one around my neck. I don't want to think about how it feels like a hand crushing my throat even though it's not.

The water level passes my breasts and then swallows my body up to my shoulders. As it creeps up my neck, I try to go slack. I try to lose myself in the lusty thoughts that filled my mind before, but I can't. The blindfold is soaking wet, and I can see through the fabric. There's a dark outline of a man sitting before me, watching me. He's blurred, but all the same, I know he's there. Just like I can feel how close my face is to the glass, how my warm breath rolls back over me every time I exhale. The water creeps up my neck like a noose, rising, creeping closer to my lips. I need to scream, but I don't.

When the water licks my chin, I lose it. I pull against the neck restraint, but I can't move. He's not going to stop it. The water will keep rising. He's going to hold me underwater. A scream rips from within and pierces the room, echoing off the empty walls. Frantically, I pull trying to free myself, and only manage to make my throat hurt.

As the water rises higher, I tip my head back, but there's no room. It barely moves. The water line is at my lower lip threatening to spill into my lungs and drown me. Sean moves. He rises and walks toward the crate. The water stops rising, but the bindings suddenly tighten. My chin lowers and the water rises to my nose. I can't move. I can't scream.

My hands flail in vain, unable to escape. Panic widens my eyes as the water suddenly gushes over my head. My hair lifts and I hold my breath. I'm a mess of terror and lust, and my body no longer responds to me. It strains against the bindings, trying to save itself.

I still when I feel him slide against me, his warm body somehow in the tube with me, pressing firmly against my body. His hard length scrapes against my stomach until he lands his feet on the floor of the cube.

My lungs are burning so terribly I'm ready to suck in water when it quickly vanishes. I'm left tethered to cold hard plastic, unable to move anything except my feet.

When the water's gone, I try to cough and scream, but his lips are there, on mine. He shoves his knee between my legs, parting my thighs before taking me by my hips so that I'm straddling him. As his lips work my mouth, he pushes inside of me. He's hot and hard. He doesn't ask or wait. He doesn't do anything except fuck me hard.

I hate not being able to move and I still feel choked. I'm dripping, and so is he as he pushes into me over and over again. I'm furious and fearful, but what shocks me is the sensation building beneath the rage. I'm a wet doll, tied in place, but every time he pulls out, I want him back. My heels lock behind his back and I make a high-pitched protest.

I touch my hand to the wall, steadying myself as every part of me trembles with lust, wanting more. There's nothing else, only him and me. I push my hips against him, saying things I'd never admit I said, begging him to do things to me I had no idea I wanted.

He spreads his hands on either side of my head and rips off my blindfold with his teeth. "I want to watch you come."

His eyes reflect a tortured animal, one that never touches, never trusts. He's been hurt too many times, too deeply. He chains his prey up to keep her from giving affection. He doesn't want her that way.

Sean stills and begins to grind into me in a circular motion that makes me want more. "Don't stop," I beg, my voice breathless.

He doesn't. I close my eyes and let him finish me off, gyrating that huge cock deep inside me, pressing it harder and faster, penetrating every part of me until the tension building inside me releases. He stills, hangs his head back and feels me coming. The hard pulsing doesn't stop right away, and before it can slow, he's fucking me again.

I don't have a chance to come off my high. I don't have a chance to collect my shattered pieces. Instead, he takes me higher, pumping into me as his lips find that spot on my neck. The world goes white. Whatever lusty fog crept in before isn't the same as this. I'm lost, completely gone. I don't fight the bindings. I like them. As he pushes into me deeper, pressing his shaft against my delicate nub of flesh as he slides slowly in and out, slowly, exquisitely, I feel like an animal. It's horrifying and freeing.

I beg him to take me in every way possible. I describe what I want him to do to me, and how desperately I want it. While I speak my breasts become tender, aching with need. I tell him to suck me there, to drag his teeth along my skin and nip me. I want more. I need him more than air, more than light. The darkness that was crushing me is gone, and I'm his alone. I want to be used and fucked until I can't stay awake. And then I want more.

Sean comes up for air, breathless, and dripping with water. "I knew you'd like a collar. Tell me what you want, baby."

"I want you, all of you. Now. Come inside of me, fill my mouth. Let me suck you."

He listens and then silences me with his mouth. He doesn't do what I want, which makes me beg more when he steps away. His body is glistening, and I want to touch him, dig my nails into his chest and pull down hard. I want to hear him scream my name and beg for more. He sees it in my eyes and grins at me.

"Cum slut."

The corners of my mouth twitch. "If you ever mention this, I'll deny it."

"I don't care if you admit it or not, as long as you know how much you want it—how much you want me like this." He pulls over a small table that was at the far end of the room and climbs on it. His dick is so close to my face. I open my mouth and try to take it in, but he doesn't let me.

Instead, he remains just out of reach. I pout and watch him as he pulls something out of the drawer—oil. He rubs it on his shaft, taking it in his hand and pumping his hand up and down.