by Geneva Lee
“Yeah, I know.” Sarah took a deep breath, glancing between us and Pepper as if making a choice. “But I’m beginning to think you’re the trash.”
Pepper let out a strangled cry and lunged for Sarah, who looked too surprised to get out of the way. I held Belle back from getting involved, gesturing to the security guards who had already caught Pepper by the shoulders and were pulling her away. She fought them for a second before realizing it was a lost cause.
“Your Highness?” The guard prompted Sarah, waiting for instructions before realizing his mistake and looking to me.
I shook my head and pointed to Sarah. This was a decision I would leave up to her. She hesitated for a second before ripping her eyes from Pepper. “I think you should leave.”
Pepper protested as they led her away from the scene of her meltdown, and Belle waved at her as she went.
“You know what happens to trash, Pepper?” Belle called. “It gets taken out.”
“You enjoyed that too much,” I muttered to her.
“It might have been better than the time I broke her nose,” Belle admitted.
“You broke her nose?” Sarah stared at Belle in awe. “I thought it looked different. I’m sorry about what she was saying. I don’t know why she hates you so much.”
Belle and I looked at each other and began to spill the running list.
“I broke her nose.”
“She was after Alexander.”
“She broke up my engagement, but Philip dumped her,” said Belle
“Then I called her out for sleeping with your dad.”
“But before he dumped her, he begged me to take him back. And then I told her that.”
“And she was completely banned by Alexander for selling stories to the media.”
“Holy shit,” Sarah said, her eyes moving between two invisible points at her feet like we’d overloaded her brain.
“Sorry,” I said, clapping a hand over my mouth, “I probably shouldn’t have told you all that stuff, especially about your Dad.”
“I’m glad you did. That’s…” she couldn’t seem to come up with a word of appropriate magnitude.
“Mental?” Belle offered as we headed back to the party.
Sarah nodded. “To start with. Why did you invite her?”
“She’s your friend and this is your birthday.”
Sarah looked like she might start crying, so I pulled her into a hug. “By the way, we’re absolute shit at parties. I’m never throwing you another one.”
“Everything goes wrong,” Belle agreed.
“My wedding?” I said.
“Legendary,” Belle said. I shot her a look. “I didn’t mean that in a good way, but you know…”
“So I should have a good time?” We’d gotten Sarah to laugh, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Just because this night was turning into another failed party for the ages didn’t mean it should be the same for her.
“I, for one, would like to find my husband and make him dance with me,” Belle said devilishly, “and I’m pretty sure that every single guy down there is waiting to dance with you.”
We reached the gallery just as Anderson drifted into view wearing a black tuxedo. Sarah snorted and cocked her head in his direction. “Any more single guys that are also my half brothers? I’m little wary of flirting with strangers these days.”
“That’s the only one.” I stopped myself from adding that we know about. I didn’t want the poor girl to be perpetually single.
“Maybe we should go in another way,” I suggested, looking for a different entrance.
“That’s the only way that does not involve a ridiculous amount of stairs and walking,” Belle said flatly. “He’s not going to bite you.”
“But he wants to, right?” Sarah held up her hands when we glared at her. “I’m just trying to keep up. Sorry.”
“Don’t let him see me,” I told them as we strolled into the party.
“Sure,” Edward said slinging his arms around Belle’s and my shoulders. “No one will notice the three most beautiful women here walking back into the room. Excellent plan. Have you considered becoming a criminal mastermind?”
“I don’t want it to be a thing,” I explained.
He shook his head. “Then don’t let it be.”
Stepping in front of us, he held out a hand to his sister. “Fancy a dance? I can point out the available ones and steer you away from the gay ones.”
“Traitor,” I said as he guided her away.
“Oh, um, there’s Smith,” Belle said, biting her lip.
I sighed and shooed her away. Anders hadn’t spotted me, so I skirted the dance floor, searching for Alexander. I was about to give up and hunt down someone with an earpiece, who would definitely know where he was, when a strong hand caught my shoulder.
“There you are.”
I spun around with a smile, forgetting to account for my belly, which brushed against him.
Anderson grinned, his eyes finding the floor as he put distance between us. “I’m afraid that was my fault.”
“It was…don’t worry about,” I said breathlessly.
“I was hoping you would dance with me,” he said.
“Is that…?”
“It’s your sister’s idea,” he said quickly. “I need to show that we all get along, so they don’t think that we hate each other.”
I wasn’t certain that dancing with Anderson was going to send that impression, and I doubted Lola had explicitly made that suggestion. But since my best friends had abandoned me, I couldn’t come up with a reasonable excuse.
Anderson and I walked to the dance floor and he put an arm around me.
“It’s a bit hard to take my waist at the moment,” I said apologetically.
“At my first primary school dance, the teachers went around pushing us apart so we weren’t too close,” he said. “This makes that a lot easier.”
I laughed along with him, wishing it could always be simple and easy between us. But until he’d figured out that I was off the market permanently, I worried that wouldn’t be the case. “You spoke to Lola?”
“Yes,” he said, taking a deep breath. “She’s a bit bossy.”
“She is a handful, but she knows how to run with this crowd.”
“Did she help you?” he asked.
“I sorta leapt into the deep end.” By the time, I’d realized that my relationship with Alexander was more than a fling, I’d already figured out how to tread water. “I should have asked for her help. She works with Belle on her business, and she’s always run interference for me when my mother gets too involved.”
“It sounds like you have an interesting family dynamic.” He smiled.
“And it’s still not as strange as my husband’s.”
“Tell me about it. A year ago it was me and my mum and now?” He looked around the room. “This isn’t my world.”
“I know how you feel,” I said, “but this isn’t their world, either. You’ll see. We’re actually terribly boring people…”
“With private jets, family estates, and Crown Jewels.” He lifted an eyebrow, calling my bluff.
I tilted my head. “Yes, but the rest of the time…”
“Thank you for the dance,” Anders said, releasing me and taking a step back, “but I think someone is cutting in.”
I didn’t have time to ask him who before he spun me into my husband’s waiting arms.
Chapter 28
Alexander
Clara’s breathless surprise matched how I felt every time I saw her. I nodded politely to Anders. It was the least I could do if he was going to show he’d learned his place. Not that I appreciated seeing my brother’s hands on my wife in any context, but as I’d was unavailable, I’m glad she wasn’t standing alone. She eyed me through her lashes apprehensively as I clasped her hand and we began to sway.
“Feeling guilty, Poppet?” I asked, relishing the palm she placed on my chest. Another woman might have wrapped it around my neck
or touched my arm, but she kept it near my heart as if protecting it.
“Nervous,” she said.
I dipped her slightly, swiftly and discreetly running my mouth up her neck before turning us. “Why would that be?”
“I was dancing with your brother.”
I chuckled at her wise choice of words. She was becoming quite the politician. “And everyone saw.”
“Yes,” she said, sounding even more alarmed.
“Wasn’t that the point?” I asked.
She cocked her head, revealing more of her creamy shoulder and I resisted the urge to bite it. “What are you getting at, X?”
“Simply, that you were meant to be seen dancing. I suppose he told you that,” I said before spinning her away and drawing her back to my body.
She melted against me. “He did. Were you in on this?”
“I was informed by Norris.” My mouth twisted at her disgruntled expression. Only Clara could get mad over me behaving myself. “He seemed concerned that I might start a fight.”
“I wonder what gave him that idea,” she said, refusing to give in to the smile dancing in her eyes.
“I thought you wanted us to get along,” I whispered.
“I didn’t expect such a sudden change of heart,” she said.
“Let me put your mind at ease.” I kept my voice low. “I didn’t like seeing his hands on you. I wanted to take you away, and so I did. He had the good sense to relinquish what belongs to me, so there was no problem.”
“Is that so?” She shook her head like I was being ridiculous.
“That you belong to me?” I asked. “I thought we established that fact, but perhaps you need a refresher.” The hand I had on her back slipped down to grip her ass. Only for a moment, but it was all it took.
Clara bit her lip, squirming a bit in my arms. “What are you saying?”
“You seem guilty and a bit confused, and I can’t help thinking that punishment might help you sort that out,” I murmured, noticing how her nipples hardened at the mere suggestion of my words.
“Punishment?” she repeated. “I thought you would never touch me while you’re angry.”
I winked at her. “Do I seem angry?”
“But punishment?” she said, her voice peaking on the final word.
“I’m frustrated, Poppet,” I told her truthfully.
“With me? Why?”
It was artless and naive, and it only made me want to take her more.
“Because you’re breathtaking in that white silk that shows every inch of your body. Your nipples are hard and every man around us is eye-fucking my wife while she’s in my arms.” I moved my mouth to her ear, eager to catch every soft noise she made as I spoke. “They’re wondering what it’s like to touch a queen and they know that they’ll never experience a woman like you. But that’s not why I want to punish you.”
“Why?” she murmured, and I knew she was as turned on by my words as I was by her body in that dress.
“Why do I want to punish you? Because you’re being a gorgeous little cocktease. Because you’re making me so hard that I have to keep my jacket buttoned so people don’t see how hard you make me. Because other men are looking at what is mine.” I paused and breathed the most important reason, “Because I can.”
I didn’t ask her if it was okay. I took her hand and led her from the party—from our friends and family and guests. There was no way I would make it through this evening without touching her, tasting her, claiming her. I nodded to one of my men who stopped his conversation mid-sentence and walked away from the guest to clear a path for us. A few more followed, blending in with the crowd until we reached another gallery. Clara didn’t notice until we were suddenly alone.
She eyed the men as we passed them without a word.
“Subtle,” she teased.
There were more on the other side. They’d all been briefed that I needed a moment with my wife privately. When we came into the sculpture gallery, Clara looked around in surprise.
“We’re alone,” she said.
“Yes.” I ran a finger from her chin to her breastbone, enjoying how her nipples beaded even harder as my touch grew closer.
“You planned this,” she accused.
“You did tell me where the party was,” I said, feeling not the least bit apologetic. The moment she’d said the V&A, I’d thought of the sculpture gallery and fantasized about this moment. I couldn’t have planned for how she would look, although I should have thought of it, or how the men would react to seeing her like this.
“This dress is terribly inappropriate,” I told her. “I nearly died when I saw you in it.”
“You could have told me to change.” She frowned, shifting to peer down at herself.
“I like inappropriate. I like how the other men watch you—how strong and confidant you are”—I kissed her shoulder, sliding the thin strap off it —“because I know that the only man you’d bow before is me.”
“You are my King,” she whispered, her breath catching as my teeth sank into her shoulder.
I didn’t bite hard, given her attire it would be impossible to return to the party without everyone whispering. My cock twitched at the thought. I wanted them to know. Part of me wanted to take her perfect body and show them all what only I could do to it, but I would never share her in that way. It drove me wild enough to see her walking around in this excuse for a dress.
But I couldn’t allow her to leave without laying my claim.
“There’s something I need to do.” I slipped the other strap down, hooking it so that the entire dress hung from a single finger.
She was breathing hard, her eyes glued to my face but flickering occasionally to the cameras in the corner.
“Does it bother you?” I asked, testing her. “Knowing someone might be watching?”
Her jaw tensed and then she shook her head. “No.”
“That’s a good girl,” I praised her, “because I make those decisions, don’t I?”
She nodded, starting to catch on to the unfolding scene.
“The cameras are off. I would never expose you—never share you. You are my treasure.” I angled my face so that our lips nearly touched. “But tell me, does it excite you—the thought of others watching me claim you? Showing them all that you belong to me. You may speak.”
“Yes,” she said weakly, sounding torn.
“Don’t be ashamed. It feels good to be owned. It makes you proud, my pretty Poppet, and you should feel that way when you’re possessed.” I savoured the way her throat slid as she swallowed this, wondering how it felt burning inside her. “But I won’t allow it, even if I would love to show you off.”
Clara whimpered, and for a split second I thought she might collapse.
“I think you’re overheating,” I said. “Let’s take care of that.” I dropped my hold on the strap and her dress fluttered to her waist, exposing her breasts.
“Perfect,” I said, leaning down I caught the peak in my mouth, but I didn’t suck. Instead I bit. Clara gasped, her hands gripping my hair. She didn’t try to pull away. Instead she writhed against the bite until she was panting. I released it, admiring the teeth marks. “And the other?”
Another slide of the throat and a nod, her eyes bright. I wouldn’t stop until the light faded and I knew she’d entered another place that only I could take her.
I caught the other one, biting down and then sucking it hard until she cried out. When I stopped she was shaking. I paused, looking her over, until I discerned it was pleasure.
Straightening, I pushed her dress to the floor. It puddled at her feet and I helped her step from it. Taking her hand, I led her to the wall.
“Do you know that I planned to take you here for days? That I pictured you standing naked amongst what others consider priceless? These are masterpieces, and you outshine them all.” I turned her to face the wall, running my eyes along her backside to where my last marks had faded. Lifting her hands, I placed them on the wall, before
I knelt behind her. Gripping her hips, I kissed her tailbone, trailing my tongue down until I came to the curve of her ass.
“My marks have faded,” I told her, kissing the spot. “Would you like more?”
“Yes, please.”
“Please what?” I wanted to hear her say it. I needed to hear it spill from her mouth as wantonly as her pleasure. The permission and the desire were intoxicating. Knowing she not only gave herself to me fully, but that she wanted it as much as I did, was the sexiest thing in the world.
“Please mark me. Please own me,” she whispered. It wasn’t timid but rather reverent.
“I will not stop until I’m satisfied and until you’re marked properly, Poppet. I will stop only if you use your safe word. I will not stop if you scream, although”—I laughed at the thought—“the sound will carry. The guards won’t let anyone in but you may consider placing your arm near your mouth.”
Clara shifted her arm, dropping her to cheek to it. I loved how she responded to each suggestion like a command, her submission as natural to her now as I’d dreamed it could be. She moaned when my teeth clamped onto the soft flesh and pulled slightly. The first bite was gentle, and I wondered if the simple act would be enough to satisfy me. My palms itched at the thought of smacking her ass, defiling her amongst the art that couldn’t touch her. But that sound would carry as well, and these sessions needed to remain private—a blasphemous communion more pure than any other.
When I released her, I massaged the spot before turning to the parallel cheek. This time, I bit down harder, paying attention to the skin’s resistance until I knew I’d brought it as close as I could. Clara shifted in her heels and when I pulled away, her mouth was pressed to her arm, imprisoning her cries. I rubbed the spot and whispered praise, “Perfect and strong. Your skin loves it as much as I do.”
I continued, aware of every flinch of her body and every whimpered cry. But there were no safe words, and with each assault, her scent bloomed in my nostrils. When bite marks covered her tender flesh, I ran my hands over them, feeling the indentations along my fingertips. Clara’s head fell to the side, her breathing heavy and laboured. My cock ached from drinking in the redness that covered both sets of cheeks.