The Arrangement by Riley Sharpe Read Free Book Online Page A

cool night air and causing him to inhale thickly in surprise. While he’s busy being surprised and enticed by my long, smooth legs, I take advantage of these legs now being exposed also meaning that they’re free to move. One shifts off the bed, changing my center of gravity so I can tilt him sideways, and I arc my other leg up and past my head, smashing my shin bone into his night vision goggles in a kick I’ve worked hard to achieve. It performs perfectly, not only knocking the goggles askew but also jamming them painfully into the bones of his skull. I twist my back toward him far enough that the pressure point on my shoulder gets some relief, enough for me to slip that arm free of his off-balance hold and bring my second leg around, along the side of the bed and up into his crotch. It makes contact further back than I intended, but he doubles over with some inarticulate version of a curse, and the grip on my wrist loosens just for an instant.
    An instant is all I need. Writhing free I somersault forward, away from the bed and toward the door, using my forward momentum to bring me upright and into a sprint. I bolt to the door, and promptly fall flat on my face as a trip wire across the doorway catches my foot.
    How did he have time to get through my security and set up traps on my own turf? I told him what my security is, not any codes or tricks for bypassing it. Well, he must not have been exaggerating when he declared his technical know-how as “guru-level.”
    Did he think I was exaggerating when I suggested he wear a mouth guard and cup?
    My shoulder is still aching, but I don’t waste any time in getting up and heading for the stairs. On one side of me is a wall; on the other side is the balustrade, opening up to overlook the ground floor of the house. Having designed this house myself, I know it inside and out, but he’s apparently cut power to the entire goddamn farm, and it’s darker here than in the bedroom. I have no problem navigating in the dark, but without eyesight I also don’t know how to watch out for trip wires without slowing down, and another one catches me just before the curve to the stairs. This time I don’t sprawl onto the ground, but hang onto the balustrade and slam sideways into it as my legs give way. It makes a hell of a racket and ends up delaying me as much as a complete fall would. I haven’t managed two more steps when strong arms wrap around me, crushing me to a hard, broad chest and throwing me so my diaphragm rams into the balustrade’s top beam.
    “Slippery minx!” Rune snarls, and then I am screaming because he’s dislocated my goddamn shoulder.
    “Fuck!” I shriek, momentarily weakening in the struggle as pain explodes out, through my arm, into my chest.
    “My thoughts exactly,” is his reply, and I feel him leaning me forward on the railing, compressing my diaphragm and pushing a knee between my legs, spreading them.
    Cool night air kisses my moistened cunt and I hear the sound of a zipper as a large hand cups my breast under the dislocated shoulder, beginning to knead. The hot mouth returns to my neck, biting, sucking, tasting. The only thing I can see are splotches in front of my eyes stemming from the pain…and excitement. I’ve waited a long time for him to break in here.
    “That hot little body belongs to me,” he growls low in my ear. “I’ve come to claim what’s mine.” The words aren’t loud, but they’re dark, sinister, dangerous. From him it’s a statement of fact, and a warning to me. The hand fondling my breast lowers to my leg and raises it to latch my heel over the railing. “Let’s see how wide I can spread that feisty cunt before I sink my cock into it and make sure it knows who its master is.”
    “You only get it if you can catch it,” I wheeze. His cock is free, the tip on my pubic bone and slowly moving backward, but getting it to that point has distracted him. Using my functional arm and the opposing leg for leverage, I haul