Page 160 of Failure to Match

“In my defense, those were your original conditions.”

“They were never meant for you.”

I took a deep breath, the knot in my stomach growing jittery and restless. “Okay, so let’s say, hypothetically, that we were starting over and laying out fresh terms for the agreement. If that were the case, what would your new conditions be?”

He studied me for a few silent moments. Then, “Are you sure you want to know? You’re going to hate them.”

My blood was rushing, my fingers bunching over the collar of his shirt with anticipation. “Start with the nonnegotiable ones.”

“They’re all nonnegotiable.”

Maybe if I wasn’t somewhat distracted by the thick, raging hard-on pressed against my stomach, I would’ve argued instead of just nodding.

“To start, there would be no paperwork, no predetermined end date, and no contractual restrictions on our relationship as husband and wife.” He grazed a pair of knuckles over my cheekbone and my lashes fluttered. “You would be mywife, Jamie. In every way that matters, not just on paper. You would be mine, and I would be yours. I’m not willing to share.”

The flutter in my chest had spread, a good portion of it settling between my legs. I shifted on his lap, reveling in the low, tortured growl the friction earned me. “What else?”

He released a breath through his nose and laid his head back. “You’d get your own staff. Driver, maids, the works.” I frowned, but before I could respond, he said, “I’m not done. If we get married, I want all the privileges that come with having you as my wife, and that includes spoiling you rotten, darling.” His mouth twitched. “Even if it is against your will.”

“I don’t?—”

“Before you finish that thought, just know that your incessant resistance to letting me financially take care of you is what got us into this mess in the first place. It’s bordering on becoming a fetish for me, Jamie. I wasn’t joking when I said I’ve started fantasizing about buying you diamonds, tying you up, and fucking you until you’re too incoherent to argue with me about it.”

“That’s… like the third time you’ve mentioned that.”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about it. I want to do it so fucking badly.”

My whole lower half had melted to sizzling goo. “Just as long as you know it’s not your money I’m after.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear. But if you’ve got my ring on your finger, the gifts are nonnegotiable.” His fingers dug into my waist hard enough to leave marks (one could only hope). “Speaking of kinks, I think it’s important that you know exactly what you’ll be getting yourself into with me as your husband, because my self-control is currently hanging by a fucking thread, if that. I’m not sure I can keep holding back.”

I’m sorry. “That whole week was youholding back?”

“You know what’s worse?” His hand circled my throat and my panties all but melted. “All of these new depravities of mine are just for you. You broke me, Jamie, and I think it’s only fair you pay the price for it, don’t you?”

My breathing was becoming increasingly shallow. I would’ve given anything for him to squeeze his fingers, just a little. Just to make it clear that I was at his full mercy.

“I need you to be a little more specific than that.”

He pulled me closer, using the grip he had on my neck. I shivered when he nipped at my bottom lip with his teeth. “You can’t have a clit that pretty and expect your husband not to worship it every night, darling. Even if it means making youcome until it hurts.” He kissed me with deceptive softness. “But you already knew that. There’s one particular kink that’s new, and it’s so much worse than the rest. It’s truly depraved, and all because you haven’t been allowing me to take care of you properly after I’m done fucking you.”

I almost laughed when it clicked. “Aftercareis your new kink?”

A smile tugged at his deliciously plush mouth. “You’ve done me so dirty with that, Jamie. I’ve started to fucking fantasize about giving you another bath. I’ve been getting off on the idea of showering you with affection without you telling me ‘no.’ It’s sickening. The aftercare isn’t up for debate anymore.”

I huffed a laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Anything else?”

His gaze melted as his palm slid to the back of my neck. “I meant what I said on the voicemail... you’re my best friend.”

Oh god. My heart.

“Yeah?” My cheeks were going to fall off, I was smiling so wide.

He was grinning right back. “Is that sad?”

“No. Not even a little.”

“Good. I want the friendship thing to stay.”

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