Arranged(42)

I slowly slid the sheet off her, running my hand along her back as I did so. She stirred but didn’t wake. Her silky skin curved into my palm as it skimmed her, like a cat seeking firmer contact. My little pet bride.

When she was uncovered, I ran my hand over her back again. She sighed contentedly in her sleep.

I throbbed. When my palm cupped her ass, it perked right up into the air. I fingered her cunt. Her legs shifted, letting me in. She was soft and ready. Warm and wet.

I could count with my fingers the times I’d gotten her off, but it was already too much. Excessive. I’d gone too far.

I had trained her too well. She caught fire when I touched her now. She was my creature. I made that.

I loved it and resented the hell out of her for it.

I used two fingers to get her off. I watched her face while I did it. Watched it go from slumber, to waking, to the wonder of orgasm.

It was an addictive thing to witness. Distracting. The sort of thing that diverted you from your day’s plans.

Your life’s plans.

Our eyes were locked together. I was sucking my fingers clean, wondering if I could hold back long enough to get her off again before I shoved myself balls deep into her cunt. It was an unforgettable moment.

And our door opened.

No knock. No warning at all.

A small, middle-aged woman with a tight, hard expression on her face walked right in as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

I stared. She was vaguely familiar looking. I was so shocked at the intrusion that I didn’t react at first. I just stared.

The baffling woman glared at my wife.

Glared. At my wife.

“There’s no time for you to be a sloth this morning, Noura,” she said with strident disdain. “You’re an hour late. Out of bed, lazy girl. It’s weigh-in day.”

My stunned gaze swung to my wife. How would she react to this strange, awful woman?

To my chagrin she didn’t. Or rather, she did. She rose without a word and obeyed the older woman.

I was distracted watching her bare ass move from the bed to the bathroom. The terrible woman followed her.

When they were out of my sight, I shook my head. Hard. Twice. What the fuck?

I got up, wrapped the sheet around my waist, and followed them.

My wife was standing naked on a scale. The woman was glaring down at it.

“Up two pounds?” she was saying coldly. “Must have been quite a night. Hope it was worth it for you. Looks like you’ll be skipping breakfast. No milk in your coffee either.”

My gaze flew to my wife. Her face was utterly stoic. And for some unfathomable reason, she didn’t speak one word of protest.

Why wasn’t she putting this shrew in her place? Well, if she wouldn’t . . .

“What the fuck are you doing?” I burst out at the stranger. “Who do you think you are, talking to her like that?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Castelo,” she spoke to me in a completely different tone. Her very demeanor changed. “I’m Asha. The handler. Just doing my job.”

“Well, you better rethink how you’re doing it.”

“How so, sir?”

I didn’t even know where to begin.

Wait. Yes, I did.

“Get. Out. Of. Our. Room. And do not enter it again. Without. Knocking!”

For her part she reacted quickly enough to suit even me in that moment.

I threw on my clothes from the night before and went on a bit of a tear, going through the apartment, gathering my wife’s entire staff.

Strangely, a teenaged girl was in the mix. She was studying me coldly, like I was the one who didn’t belong in my wife’s apartment.

I ignored her, focusing on Noura’s team: Asha, the loud handler. Chester, the too-friendly, eyes too warm on my wife security. Vincent, the quiet driver.

I went on a tangent, laying out some ground rules that I thought should have been pretty fucking obvious.

“Don’t walk into our bedroom without knocking. Ever. In fact, stay out of our bedroom alto-fucking-gether.”

That was for all of them.

“Don’t raise your voice to my wife. In fact, don’t even think of speaking to her with an ounce of disrespect in your tone. Don’t so much as look at her fucking funny. Noura’s the one in charge here. No one else.” I glared at Asha all throughout this part of my rant. It was for her. “And if I hear that you’ve been telling her what to eat—that you’ve been telling her not to eat.” I had to collect my temper before continuing. “So help me God, there will be hell to pay!”

Mouthy Asha didn’t have a thing to say to that.

“Is all of that crystal fucking clear?” I asked, making solid eye contact with each of them.

Why was the teenager grinning like a loon now? I ignored her again.

Asha’s eyes snapped at me, but she didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir,” she replied firmly.

“Crystal,” Chester drawled. He was clearly holding in a smirk.

“Certainly,” Vincent agreed cheerfully.

I left them without another word, returning to my wife’s quarters.





CHAPTER





NINETEEN





Noura was just stepping out of the shower, toweling herself off. So clean. Not for long. I watched her for a time, wondering why she had nothing to say.