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Steamy Romance Novels

The Most Explosive Novel Since Fifty Shades of Grey

Feb 9, 2023

The Arrangement


What was that? My eyes were open now, even though my body was screaming for me to go back to sleep. It felt like I’d just gotten into bed a few minutes ago.

I looked beside me, where there was always one young woman or another. But it was empty.

I was so sick of hearing movement around the penthouse, so tired of having someone else living in my home. I only agreed to this arranged marriage to get my father off my back. But I would’ve never chosen her. Angela was a gold-digger, a woman only interested in my deep pockets and my Central Park view. I was disgusted by her. And I was fully prepared to tell her off if it was her making that god awful noise.

I threw the covers off me, not caring that I was just in the boxer briefs I’d slept in. I padded into the hallway and heard the sound again.

It was like my mind was playing tricks on me. I stomped over to the kitchen… and that was when I saw her.

She was crouched down, her back to me, her hands working a mile a minute under the cupboard below the sink. But I didn’t notice that at first.

What I noticed was the oversized white T-shirt she wore that barely covered her butt. Her long legs were completely exposed, all the way up to her thighs.

I didn’t understand what was happening. I knew I hated her, the woman not three feet away from me, my fake wife.

But I couldn’t turn away from her. Not when she was dressed like this. ~Jesus, control yourself,~ I ordered myself. ~You’re not twelve.~

I cleared my throat. Her head whipped around to see who was there, and her wide eyes locked on mine. She had blue eyes, big and soft like a child’s.

I’d been with my share of beautiful women, but none that looked as innocent as her.

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?” Yes, you did. But something came over me, and instead of letting the truth out, I had an urge to quell her worry.

“Not at all. I just came out to get coffee and… What are you doing?”

“Oh, I can put a fresh pot on for you,” she said, standing up. But I wasn’t paying any attention to the words coming out of her mouth because she had stood up.

The shirt, already short while she was crouched, was now barely covering her pelvic region.

I couldn’t tell if she didn’t know or didn’t care.

“That’s okay,” I got out, but she was already moving, putting the filter into the coffee machine and scooping some coffee on top.

“I know you have that fancy espresso machine, but I don’t know how to use it, so I hope you don’t mind normal coffee.”

I watched her as she moved, the T-shirt coming dangerously close to showing me more than a little preview.

She turned her head over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows, and I realized I hadn’t responded.

“That’s great. Fine. Great,” I said, falling over my words. What is happening? I never fell over my words. “What were you doing…uh, down there?”

“Oh, I was just fixing the garbage disposal,” she laughed. Then she opened the cupboard above her head, the one with the cups. The mugs were on the second shelf, so she’d have to reach up.

As she started to reach, I raced over and grabbed the mugs myself, but in my haste to keep her private areas, er, private, I didn’t take personal space into account.

I was right up behind her, my hand in the cupboard, reaching for a mug.

And she was surprised by my movements so she turned back to me and, in doing so, backed right into me.

So her barely clothed body, the one with the curves I could see quite clearly, was pressed up against me.

I could feel myself getting turned on almost immediately, which was strange, because I never got hard that quickly, especially from such limited contact.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, turning around and backing herself into the counter. But that didn’t make it any better because now I had a full front view of her.

I saw her chest through the T-shirt and could make out the white lace thong she was wearing underneath.

She bit her lip again, looking the same mix of nervous and innocent she always did whenever I really took notice. I lowered the mug to the counter without removing my eyes from her.

She brought her hand up to her neck and scratched it, and the T-shirt went up an inch more, showing me more thigh than I could take.

Without waiting another second, I dove into her.

I grabbed her face and kissed her, the most gentle, most heated kiss I’d had for some time.

She was into it, that much I could sense.

Her arms were wrapped around me, but still, I needed to be closer. So I held her tight to me and lifted her up, her legs now wrapped around my waist.

Warmth radiated from her. She was rocking around, gyrating, and I thought I’d lose it right there.

~Jesus, you are twelve,~ I chastised myself.

I pushed her onto the counter and spread her legs, standing between them. Then I started feeling my way down. I started at her lips, letting her kiss my pointer finger, letting her take it into her mouth. She sucked, looking me right in the eye. Something about that innocence, and those lips…

I trailed my hands down, over her neck. I touched her softly through the thin fabric of her shirt and heard a moan escape her lips.

“That feels…nice,” she whispered, and there was something so virtuous about the way she said it. Like she was genuinely surprised it would.

I massaged her more intensely then bent my face down and nibbled on her neck. She moaned again, and I was ready to take her right there.

But I knew she needed more. She deserved more, I thought, and I had no idea where that kind of thinking had come from.

I started pulling her T-shirt up. I pulled it all the way off and watched as her long hair fell back down after. And then I looked at her, covered in lace, and the urgency got stronger.

She put her hand out, touching my bare chest, and the contact made me shudder. It was only then that I realized I was just as bare as she was. With me only in my boxer briefs, she’d have been able to tell I was turned on the whole time.

And then we were kissing again, and I was playing with the hem of her thong. Our movements were similar, slowly rubbing against each other in a way that both mesmerized and lit my body aflame.

“Oh…oh my gosh… Oh my go—” she squealed, and her whole body shook. Then her eyes opened, and she bit her lip. “I’ve never felt…like that before.”

“You haven’t?” I asked, kissing her neck.

“Not that…intense.” It made me all the more wild, knowing I was the first to give her that feeling. 

I struggled to control myself, but seeing her, feeling her against me, it was all becoming too much.

“This feels…so good,” she said, her voice raspy.

And a few moments later, with her movements speeding up and my urgency knowing new heights, we both screamed out.


The thud, the same thud, caused my eyes to flash wide open again.

And I was back in my bed, in my room. My body was buzzing. 

It was only a dream.

Angela Carson is about to fake marry the most dangerous man in NYC, and they agreed to the following terms: She can do and have whatever she likes, as long as she stays out of his way…

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