Page 177 of Their Arrangement

I pause.

Wait for her eyes to open.

“…and I’ll make you wear it naked.”

25

CLOE

I rebuttonedmy blouse with trembling fingers. Each button was a lie. A soft click of denial meant to hide the heat still blooming beneath my skin.

The chain sat heavy against my chest.

Slick with sweat.

Weighted with Wolfe.

I didn’t dare touch it. Didn’t dare fix the collar or brush my fingers over the garnet where it pulsed in the hollow of my sternum. It felt alive. Branded. He hadn’t kissed me. Hadn’t said a word once I came. He’d just watched.

Then sat back at his desk. Like he hadn’t just wrecked me. Like he hadn’t just slid two fingers inside me while wrapping a chain around his fist. His voice had been quiet the whole time.

No praise.

No command beyond “Say thank you.”

And now?

Now I had to walk into the hallway. With damp lace and pulsing thighs and the ghost of his hand still cupped betweenmy legs. My heels clicked too sharply on the floor. Every sound felt like guilt. Like a siren that screamed,she let him.

Royal looked up first. He always does. He didn’t smirk—not fully. But the corner of his mouth tilted just enough. He raised his coffee cup in a mock salute.

“Mornin’, sweetness.”

My cheeks burned. I didn’t reply. Didn’t break stride. Even as my skin buzzed and my knees betrayed me.

Loyal passed by me near the corner glass. His eyes flicked downward. To my collar. He saw it.

The faint shimmer of the chain. The outline of something that hadn’t been there yesterday. His mouth tightened. His hand curled tighter around the file he was holding. He said nothing. Didn’t have to. He’s always been quiet in ways that cut.

I walked faster. But it didn’t help. Every inch of fabric clung to me now. Wet between my legs. Sticky across my thighs.

The silk of my blouse stretched taut across flushed skin still humming from Wolfe’s voice. The panties I hadn’t fixed were riding up. The corset had shifted. Too tight now. Too high.

I couldn’t breathe. But I couldn’t stop. The hallway narrowed as I reached the bullpen. People looked up. Not everyone. But enough. Enough to feel like the walls were closing in. Enough to make me want to pull the ring from the chain and swallow it whole just to keep it secret.

I reached my desk and sat carefully. Too carefully. The chair was cold. Unforgiving. It pressed against the ache between my thighs like it knew. Like it wanted to remind me. I didn’t cry. Didn’t shake. Didn’t fall apart. But my hands? They stayed in my lap for five full minutes before I could type again.

And still?—

I didn’t look back. Because I already knew Wolfe waswatching. And I didn’t trust myself not to say thank you all over again. Barron’s office door was half open when I looked up. I hadn’t seen him step in. Didn’t hear him arrive.

But now he was there—back to the hallway, blazer already off, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, collar open just enough to make the whole room feel warmer.

I tried to look away. Tried to focus on the report in front of me. But his hand moved—just once. Two fingers.A beckon.Nothing more. But I was already standing.

The walk to his office felt longer than it should have. Every step heavier. Like the ring at my chest had somehow fused to the skin beneath it. I knocked once. He didn’t answer. Just looked up from his desk. So I entered. Closed the door behind me.

“Sit.”