Chapter 19 An Agreement
Sienna
Sev’s eyes locked onto mine, sharp and full of that dark, golden fire. When his teeth scraped against my neck, it sent a jolt of heat straight to my center.
He squeezed my waist so hard his fingers dug into my skin. I knew I’d have marks tomorrow, but I didn't care. I liked the way he held me, like he was afraid I’d bolt if he let up for even a second.
He kept me pinned under his weight while his other hand moved down, fast and rough, pushing between my legs. I spread them open without even thinking; I was already soaked and throbbing for him.
He found my clit immediately, rubbing it in quick, heavy circles that made me yell out. The pressure started building way too fast, like a fire I couldn't stop.
His fingers found my entrance immediately, slick with my arousal, and he thrust two inside me without hesitation. They sank deep, stretching me in a way I could never do myself.
God, his fingers were so long. I could feel them brushing against that one sensitive spot that made my toes curl and my vision go fuzzy.
I gasped at the intrusion, my inner muscles clenching around him greedily as he curled them upward, pumping in and out with rough, insistent strokes.
At the same time, his mouth was still devouring my breast, his tongue flicking my nipple before his teeth grazed it. He bit just hard enough to make me arch and cry out in desperation.
My hips bucked against his hand on their own, chasing the friction and feeling his knuckles grind against me with every thrust.
“Sev!” I cried out.
He let out a deep growl, the vibration rumbling against my skin as he plunged his fingers faster, twisting and scissoring inside me. He was hitting depths that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
I twisted under him, my body squeezing tight around his hand as I completely lost my mind.
He was all over me, mouth devouring my breast, fingers fucking me relentlessly, shoving me closer to the breaking point with no mercy, his thumb occasionally flicking my swollen clit to heighten the torment.
“It’s alright,” he rumbled low against my skin, his eyes burning into mine. Then he added a third finger, stretching me wider. The burn mixed with the pleasure as he thrust even deeper, making me feel completely, terrifyingly full.
The climax didn't just hit; it leveled me. My body locked up, tight and demanding, as my thighs clamped around his wrist like a vise.
My core convulsed in frantic, rhythmic spasms, milking his fingers as a hot rush of release gushed over his hand.
He didn't stop. He stayed right there, his fingers slowing into a heavy, agonizingly perfect rhythm that drew out every last tremor until I was reduced to a whimpering, oversensitive mess. Finally, he lifted his mouth from my breast, his lips red and glistening in the dim light.
Sleep started pulling at the edges of my vision, the room blurring into shadows. I could still feel the weight of his hand and the possessive heat of his presence, but I was done.
I couldn't fight the exhaustion anymore. I let myself drift off, the wild, addictive heat he’d ignited still humming deep inside me as the world went dark.
I jolted awake, my heart thumping against my ribs. I looked around, realizing I was still in the room, but—wait. I looked down. I was fully clothed.
Shit. Absolute shit. How could I have fallen asleep in the middle of a moment like that? Who actually gets that close to doing it and then just... takes a nap?
I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. He must have dressed me while I was out cold, which was both incredibly annoying and way too domestic for my liking.
“Fuck it,” I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed. I wasn't going to hide out in here all day.
I marched downstairs and found Sev exactly where he always was—at the breakfast table, hidden behind a newspaper. He looked calm, composed, and utterly unbothered, like he hadn’t spent the night making me see stars.
“Good morning,” I said, dropping into the chair across from him. I tried to sound casual, but my heart was doing that annoying thumping thing again.
He didn't say a word. He just lowered the paper and slid two identical documents across the table toward me.
I picked one up, my eyes scanning the text, and my stomach did a slow, painful flip.
An agreement. The contract he gave the women he bedded. Part of me should have been thrilled; this was the proof I’d wanted, wasn't it? He finally "wanted" me.
But as I read, a cold, hollow weight settled in my chest. He was sitting right there, looking at me like I was just another Keisha. A transaction. A nobody.
I bit my lip, staring at the final line: “The relationship between Party A and Party B is strictly a Dynamic Partnership based on mutual physical exploration. Both parties acknowledge and agree that this is not a romantic relationship, nor is it a traditional courtship.”
I stared at the words until they blurred. I’d officially become one of "his women," which meant I was just a name on a waitlist while he kept his options open.
“Why are you suddenly hesitating?” he asked, his voice as cold as the coffee in my cup. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
I looked at him, my jaw tightening as I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes. He was being a prick on purpose. But God, I was so stupidly in love with him that I couldn't even walk away. I grabbed the pen and signed the damn thing through gritted teeth.
Is this all I am to you, Sev?
“Good,” he said simply, taking a sip of his drink without even looking at my signature.
The silence in the room was suffocating. I couldn't help it; my mind was already jumping to Friday. His night.
“Do you… need me this Friday?” I asked. The second it was out, I wanted to die. I sounded so thirsty, so eager to be back in that bed with him.
“No.” He didn't even blink. He stood up, folding his copy of the agreement and tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll be busy for the next few days.”
He turned and walked out, leaving me sitting there like a ghost.
“Okay,” I muttered to the empty air where he’d just been standing.
The silence that followed was a total reality check. Standing there alone, the weight of that paper finally hit me for what it actually was. This wasn't a win; it was a way to bench me.
By giving me exactly what I’d asked for, he’d found a way to keep me in line.
I spent the rest of the week on edge. I was ready, waiting to be summoned back to that room in the North Wing. But when Friday, or the next finally rolled around? Nothing.