Arranged(66)

My small birthday party wasn’t anything exciting, but it was just perfect for me, surrounded by the people I enjoyed the most. We watched DramaFever and ate cake. I tried to have one tiny bite of it, but Banks cajoled me into more.

He was a bit stiff with my friends, and he didn’t say much, but I still appreciated the fact that he was there and no one had forced him to be. And through it all, it felt like something was happening between us, something that had nothing to do with our fake marriage and everything to do with something more authentic than a contract. A budding but genuine affection. And of course desire.

We slipped in and out of the living room a few times to make out like high school kids. The third time we did it, Jovie shouted at our retreating backs, “Figure yourselves out!”

Much, much later we retired for the night. He undressed me slowly and took me to bed.

He rocked into me, eyes on mine. Each jarring thrust moved my whole body, making my breasts bounce with each plunge. His gaze moved down to my chest, then back to my face with each movement.

“Should I call you Duchess while I fuck you? Would you like that?”

The question made me stiffen mid-thrust. He kept jarring into me without pause. I’d forgotten about his jealous fit earlier. He’d been so sedate and agreeable since then, but it had obviously upset him much more than I’d thought. I wasn’t sure how to handle him like this, jealous Banks was even more of a stranger to me than normal Banks, so I didn’t answer.

Once again, my silence didn’t help.

With a growl, he started rutting with a purpose, fucking me harder.

I went mindless for one beat, two, and honestly forgot about his temper for a time.

That is, until his harsh voice sounded in the room, loud enough to be heard over our panting breaths and my pounding heartbeat. “Do you want me to call him in while you’re like this? Do you want him to see what I do to you while he’s out there at your beck and call?”

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t have the breath to speak. He was ardently fucking it out of me.

Again, it didn’t help.

He hissed at me through his teeth. “He’s probably fantasizing about you right now. Do you like that? Do you like having that effect on him? Do you get off on the fact that you have that effect on every man?”

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, mind too hazy to respond. Frankly, I was closer to coming than answering him, but that didn’t seem to occur to him.

Abruptly, he stopped moving. My eyes snapped open. “Don’t stop,” I gasped, straining against him.

“Maybe I should call him in,” he growled from atop me. “Let him see me balls deep inside of you. Let him see that I own this.” His hand snaked down, fingering my clit, his cock buried to the hilt. “That it’s mine.”

I finally managed to get out a breathy, “No.”

Faint as that one word was, it seemed to calm him, or at least it didn’t set him off more. He started moving again.

I must have fallen asleep after with him still on top of me because I roused when he moved away.

He was hitching his pants up over his hips when he asked me over his shoulder. “I’m grabbing water from the kitchen. Do you need anything, Duchess?”

“Don’t,” I said faintly, turning my face away.

“What?”

“Don’t call me Duchess, please.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re making fun. When he does it, he’s just being sweet.”

He was in my face again in a heartbeat, body covering mine, madness in his eyes, voice hitched low but furious. “He doesn’t get to be sweet with you. You need to get that through your head.”

Oh this again.

“Are you jealous because I said he was my friend?” I asked carefully. It was actually kind of sweet. “You can be my friend, too. It’s not a mutually exclusive thing.”

“For the record, I don’t want to be your friend,” he growled. “I want to make you come and watch your eyes roll up into your head. I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

I was blushing as I replied stubbornly, “You can do those things and be my friend.”

“Okay. Fine. That’s the kind of friendship I want, but you don’t get to have that with anyone else.”

I just blinked at him. “Well, of course not,” I replied simply.

It seemed to mollify him if the way he kissed me was any indication.





“What can I get you for your birthday?” he asked me some time in the night.

My mind shot to one idea immediately. It would make me vulnerable to ask him for something like that, I thought, mind moving furiously. It would hurt if he turned me down.

But if he said yes it would be worth it.

If he said yes it might change everything.

“I’d like you to start talking to me directly. No more Asha.”

He stared at me for a long time. “You want me to fire her?”

I shrugged. “I just want her out of my apartment. I wouldn’t be sad if you fired her, but if she just wasn’t in charge of me that’d be enough.

“And you really want to deal with me directly?”

“Yes. I want to deal with you directly.”

“Okay. If that’s what you prefer, that’s what we’ll do,” he said instantly.