Bitter Arrangement: Chapter 37

“You’re about as nimble as a pirate with two peg legs.”

“Any pirate still alive after losing both legs is probably pretty dexterous.” Alexan glares at me as he wiggles the lock picks. “And you’re a terrible teacher.”

“You’re a terrible student!” I pace around the living room, glaring at him as he works. He curses and gives up, throwing the practice lock into the pillows.

“I’m a fucking systems engineer, not a thief. This is bullshit.”

“I learned it. How come you can’t?”

“It’s impossible.” He crosses his arms and glowers at me. “I think this whole thing is rigged.”

“Give me that.” I stride over, take the lock, grab the picks, and get it open in less than thirty seconds. I dangle it from my fingers, eyebrows raised. “Got something to say?”

“This is bullshit,” he grumbles through his teeth.

I click the lock closed again and hand it back. “Look, let’s take a break. We’re both getting frustrated.”

“No.” He goes back to wiggling the picks. “We don’t have time for breaks.”

“You’re just going to burn yourself out.”

“How did you do that? Walk me through it again.”

“We tried that already. I walked you through it ten times. It hasn’t helped.”

He curses in Armenian and keeps trying to get the lock open as I slump down onto the couch and watch. I’ve seen Alexan beat men to death and make insanely accurate shots with his stubby pistol, and yet for some reason, picking this lock is completely messing him up.

I don’t get why. He’s obviously capable. I doubt there’s anything Alexan couldn’t figure out, given enough time. Except he’s right; we’re in a hurry, and it needs to click for him right now.

Stress is written on every inch of my husband. His jaw works, and his shoulders are hunched. He’s working so hard, and maybe that’s the problem. This lock has become a life-or-death situation when really, it’s just a stupid lock.

“You’re trying too hard,” I say suddenly.

“That’s dumb. There’s no such thing.”

I throw a pillow at his head. “Don’t call my ideas dumb.”

“Fine. Sorry. But still.” He growls and gives up on the lock again. “I have to try hard.”

“Lockpicking is about finesse. It’s about feeling the tumblers, working them up one at a time, and getting them into the right position. It’s delicate.”

“I can do delicate.”

“I know, but right now you’re like a monkey trying to solve complex math with a hammer.”

“Your metaphors are wonderful today.”

“Thank you.” I give him a bow. “You just need something to help you relax.”

“I plan on robbing one vicious psychopath to appease another organization full of violent, vicious psychopaths, and if I don’t get this right, they’re going to kill you, your brother, and probably everyone I care about, myself included.”

“Exactly.” I sit up and snap my fingers as an idea hits me. “How about this: for every tumbler you get into position, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. When I’m naked, and you get that lock open, you can do whatever you want with me.”

His eyes light up. A little smile plays on his face. “Are you joking?”

“You need proper motivation.” I lean forward, pressing my breasts together. I give him a pouty smile. “You do want to fuck me, don’t you?”

“Now you’re just distracting me.”

“Come on, Alexan. Stop making excuses and get the lock open so you can use me however you want.”

His eyes narrow, and a smile plays across his face. “You’re a crazy person.”

“Impulsive, remember?” I wiggle my hips a little. “I’m serious though. Tell me when you feel a pin slip into place, and I’ll strip. More and more you’ll unwrap me until I’m naked and wet for you, and then you can do whatever you want.”

He licks his lips. “I’m going to get this lock open, then I’m going to make you suck my cock while I lick your pussy.”

“Oh?” I say, a little thrill of excitement running into my core. “I figured you’d want anal.”

“Boring.” He picks up the lock, the picks, and slips them inside. “Anal makes me yawn. I’d rather listen to you choke and gag on my cock while you come on my tongue. That’s fucking heaven.”

God damn, my husband is a dirty man. I watch him carefully, trying to keep myself calm, but now I’m into this whole idea. Arousal plays through my core, and I want him to get that stupid lock open so I can taste his big dick between my lips.

“Got one,” he says, tongue pinched between his teeth.

“Good boy!” I pull off my shirt. He glances over, eyes fluttering to my tits. “Concentrate.”

“Hard to do that when you’re taking off clothes,” he mutters but keeps going. He’s not nearly so hunched and stressed this time around. Instead, he looks more like himself. His fingers are deft and careful as he wiggles the pick and keeps the tension rod in the right position. He rakes, using the technique I showed him. “Got another.”

“That’s my husband.” I stand and take off my pants.

He clucks his tongue. “I was hoping for the bra.”

“You don’t like my ass?” I turn a little, letting him look.

“I love your ass. And your mouth, and your tongue, and every inch of you.”

I let myself smile big as my heart races. He’s deep in concentration mode now. I want him thinking about me, my body, what he wants to do with me when he wins, not about all the other pressure shoving down on his chest.

He grunts and glances up. “Got another.”

“Here you go, baby.” I reach back and unhook my bra. I let it slide off and cover my tits with my hands. “Keep going.”

“Fucking tease.” His face breaks out into a big grin. “Got another. Guess you’ll have to move those hands.”

“For a man who’s seen me naked plenty already, you sure do seem eager.” I sigh dramatically. “But a deal is a deal.” I drop my hands and slowly slide my panties off. “What now?” I ask, using one arm to cover my tits and the other hand to cover my pussy.

“And now—” He licks his lips, staring at me, and turns the tension wrench to the side. The lock clicks, and it opens. “I get you.”

“Alexan!” I say, elated. “You did it!”

“I just needed motivation.” He tosses the lock aside. “Now come here.”

“Oh, no way. You need more practice.”

His expression darkens. “What happened to a deal is a deal?”

“I’m a very bad girl.”

“Yes, you are.” He comes for me, and I yelp, laughing, as I dance out of his way. But he’s fast, and I’m not very motivated to escape him. I make it to the other side of the couch before he grabs my wrist and yanks me back, slamming his mouth down onto mine.

God, I love kissing this man. I love his taste, his tongue, his soft lips, the way he breathes, the way he presses himself against me like he’s starving. I’m naked and vulnerable, and my heart’s racing wildly as he kisses my neck and breasts, pausing to lick my pierced nipple. Bliss runs down my spine.

He turns me around and presses me against the couch. I gasp, hands pressed against the cushions, as his fist grips my hair. The other spanks my bare ass hard.

“You shouldn’t try to run from me,” he says and spanks me again. “Not when I’ve already been properly motivated.”

“But running makes it more fun,” I say, gasping with pleasure as his hand spanks me again. He slides his fingers between my legs and teases my wetness. “Oh, that feels good.”

“I know you like that,” he whispers in my ear. “You love getting all messy for me, baby.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because.” He pulls his hand back and shoves his soaking fingers into my mouth. “Look at you, eager little slut.”

I moan as I taste myself. I suck his fingers, whimpering. He pulls them out and slides them back between my legs, teasing up and down my wet slit before sinking deep inside.

“Oh my god,” I moan, shivering with pleasure.

“That’s my girl. Now come here.” He drags me to the couch and starts shedding clothes. I help him out, not pretending to fight back anymore. I just want him, plain and simple. Once he’s naked, I drop to my knees before he can order me around and take his tip into my mouth. I suck him and stare up into his eyes, going slow, rolling my tongue around and getting him nice and wet. He stares down at me like he’s seeing heaven for the first time.

“You like that,” I say, teasing. He reaches down to rub my pierced nipple.

“You know I do.”

“Should I reward you?”

“Whether you will or won’t doesn’t matter.” He grabs me and drags me over to the couch. I gasp as he lies down and shoves me into position, yanking my hips down over his mouth and shoving me forward. “I’m taking my prize either way.”

I spread my thighs, my knees on either side of his face, and he licks my pussy like a madman. Fuck, that feels so good. I grind down into his mouth, moaning, and take his dick into my mouth. I suck him, messy and wet, moaning as I do it. I’m stuffed, my mouth filled, his tongue inside my pussy, and it feels so fucking good I could scream. And as I suck him and he licks me, I realize all that stress he’s been under has been messing with me too, and I need this as much as he does.

“Keep going,” I gasp, the pleasure building into an explosion in my core. “Please, keep going.”

“I want my dick in your mouth while you come,” he orders. “Suck me, you messy, dirty fucking girl.” He licks at a steady and fast pace, and I can’t take it anymore. I shatter for him, the orgasm hitting me like a truck, and I nearly black out as his cock slips into my throat and I gag on him.

“Fuck,” I say, pulling back, gasping for air. I stroke his spit-drenched dick, blinking black spots from my vision. “Holy shit.”

“That’s a good girl,” he says, lightly patting my ass.

I realize I’m squeezing his skull with my knees and ease up. “Sorry. Almost killed you.”

“I think you almost killed yourself choking on me like that. But you’re not finished.” He spanks me, and I laugh, stroking him a little and looking over my shoulder.

“You want me to keep going?”

“Don’t fucking tease.”

“I should make you practice the lock again first.”

“I don’t think I’ll survive.”

I pout a little, loving this sudden power. “Beg,” I say.

His eyes widen. I grin, wondering if maybe I crossed a line.

“Please,” he whispers.

And fuck, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. “Again,” I say, licking his tip.

“Please,” he says again. “Please, baby. Suck my cock. I need it. I need you. God, I need to come so fucking badly.”

I pull back and change my position until I’m straddling him. “Keep begging. I haven’t decided if you deserve it yet.”

“You filthy fucking tease.” He grabs my ass. I laugh as he arches forward and plunges his cock inside me, slipping in deep, filling me to the brim. “I’m not going easy on you now.”

“Good. I don’t want you to. Fuck me like you want to break me.”

He thrusts hard into me, squeezing my ass. “God damn, baby, you feel so fucking good. I need to come. I need to fill you.”

“Keep going,” I say, breathing hard, bliss filling me again. “Beg for my pussy.”

“I love your fucking pussy. I love every inch of you. Let me fuck you and fill you, baby, please, I fucking need it.” He roars and pulls my hair, and I grind against him, the whole couch rocking and shaking as we fuck like goddamn animals. “Please, baby,” he says, and the pure lust in his voice ruins me all over again. I come hard on his dick, and he doesn’t stop. He thrusts and fucks me, and he fills me as he comes too.

“Shit,” I say, breathing hard. His heart’s hammering in my ear as I lean against his chest. “God damn.”

“Yep,” he says, laughing lightly. “Agreed.”

“All this over a stupid lock.”

“I think all I needed was the proper motivation in the end.”

“Exactly. And you thought I wasn’t a good teacher.” I reach up and lightly kiss him.

He returns that kiss with a surprising hunger. “You’re a perfect teacher,” he whispers, staring at me with pure adoration. “Listen. I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” I shimmy off him and get to my feet. “You’re not about to say what I think you’re going to say, are you?”

He seems amused and stretches his arms above his head. God, he’s such a beautiful specimen, it’s unbelievable. “I might. Why are you reacting like this?”

“You’re not saying… you know what… right after sex. Absolutely not.”

His eyebrows raise. “Why not?”

“Because! It cheapens the whole thing!”

“Cheapens it? Baby, we’re living on borrowed time right now.”

“I don’t care.” I grab my clothes and start getting dressed. “Tell me when it means something.”

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. And he doesn’t say that I’m wrong and crazy for thinking he was about to say those three stupid words, which means⁠—

That’s how he feels.

It’s a strange revelation. I feel my cheeks turn pink, and I have to go get a glass of water to hide the sudden rush of emotion that hits me.

He loves me. Alexan loves me. I thought he did; I mean, I figured he did, but⁠—

Now I’m sure.

He loves me.

A rush of giddy excitement runs into my belly. I glance at him as he pulls on a shirt and picks up the practice lock again. He gets back to work, concentrating this time without all the heavy baggage weighing him down.

Alexan loves me. He loves me, for real. Not as some forced bribe bullshit or a way to enforce a peace treaty, but as a partner and a wife.

He loves me, and I love him too.

“Got it,” he says, grinning and holding the lock up. “Fuck, woman, you are truly a great teacher.”

“Don’t call me woman. And thank you.” I drink down my water, fighting back the rush of toe-curling joy. I’m smiling like a moron, and he probably thinks it’s about the lockpicking. When really, I’m grinning because I’m in love. “Now do it fifty more times before we move on to the harder locks.”

“There are harder locks?”

“Better get back to work.”

He groans, shoves the lock closed, and obeys.