X: Command Me through Alexander's Eyes (Royals Saga)

by Geneva Lee

  It’s not, but I wait for her response.

  An eternity passes before she moans, “More.”

  My eyes close in silent relief, and I move closer, planting a kiss on her neck to show she’s safe. I step back, take a deep breath, and let the crop fly—harder and faster this time.

  Her knees buckle as it cracks against her skin. I might be concerned save for her pleasure-drenched cry of “Alexander!”

  “Wider, poppet,” I grunt. I want to make her come. I want to deliver her to a place she doesn’t know exists—yet.

  She spreads her legs more for me, and I push the crop between them, rubbing its tip over the swollen bundle of nerves there before I smack it hard. Tensions coils in her limbs. Another lash, and she sobs, “I need you.” Her cry stops my hand before it can fly a third time. “I need you inside me. I need you to fill me.”

  “Are you sure, poppet?” It’s not what I want exactly, but I can’t deny the ache in her voice. I feel it not just in my painfully stiff cock but echoing through my own chest. I unzip my pants before she responds, already knowing her answer.

  I slide one finger barely inside her to check that she’s ready. “You bloom for me like a flower.”

  Her body, still rigid with undissipated tension, relaxes just enough to let me know that she’s ready. I position my cock against her heat and warn her, “I need to fuck you, Clara. I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

  Her answer is unrestrained. “Don’t be.”

  I grab her, groaning at her words, as I shove inside her. Once I’m buried inside her, I linger for a moment to appreciate the sensation. I brush her hair over her shoulder so that I can bring my body in closer contact with hers, hunching over her to capture as much of her as I can. And then I let go. I slam into her. I yank her hair, jerking her head back to claim her mouth with my own. I take and take and take. I move deeper and harder. Not caring if I wreck her. Not caring if I hurt her.

  I break the kiss to savor the grunts of pain and pleasure spilling from her as though neither her mind nor body can quite process what I’m doing. I release her hair, and she clutches at the tree, allowing me to drive inside her even more violently. She tightens around me on the verge of climax, and I give my final order. “Come for me.”

  Her pleasure is a strangled cry. It wracks her body, overtakes her limbs, strips away every ounce of self-control she clings to until she is a mewling mass of orgasm centered on my cock. I enjoy every depraved second as I watch from the brink of my own release. As her trembles fade a little, I let myself fall. I plummet into the depths of my own darkness, unleashing the monster within me as I flood inside her—tainting her innocence with my perversion. “Clara. My Clara.”

  Her name on my lips brings one thought: now she’s mine.

  I revel in it until the last drop fills her, and the leash clamps around me once more.

  What have I done?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I gather her in my arms, her body too spent to hold her up. Then I help her to the grass, glad the day is warm and balmy. Overhead the grey afternoon gives way to the sun, but my mood remains dark. I spread my jacket across the field and help her lie down. She smiles dreamily at me, her eyes blinking slowly as she lifts one arm against the daylight.

  I stalk to the horse and check the saddle. I’d crossed a line. Clara doesn’t seem to mind—yet.

  There’s that word again. It seems rules don’t matter. I’ll break them. I told her I didn’t need her submission. But I’ve been pushing her toward it slowly and surely, letting the dominance inside me out to play for stolen moments while I look the other way. But that? I just gave him the keys to the cage, and I’m not certain he’ll let me lock him up again.

  I turn to find Clara watching me with hooded eyes, her arm shading them from the sun. She hooks her index finger and beckons me over.

  I prowl toward her, looking for an apology that might fit the situation on the way. Given that she doesn’t seem to mind the brutality of the encounter, it’s a tall order. I sigh as I move over and realize I don’t know how to apologize to someone that doesn’t know they’ve been wronged. Clara’s gaze is adoring. Undeserved. I force a smirk. “You were giving me a come-hither look.”

  She arches against me, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, and I feel the shameful surge of blood pooling in my cock.

  “That’s a shame. I meant to give you a come-fuck-me look,” she simpers, bucking her sex up to the bulge in my pants.

  “Now I see the difference.” I give in as she reaches to free my cock. She takes it out, her hands warm and soft before she releases my balls and shows them some rare attention. It’s a welcome distraction from the thoughts crowding my head. “Christ, I love it when you play with my balls.”

  I need to make her feel good. I need to remind her that I can give her pleasure without such a dark price. I capture her breast in my mouth and begin to suck. She melts into it before she moans, “I want to suck you off.”

  The sky darkens overhead again, beginning its slow descent into rest and taking my resolve with it. I push against her, unable to resist the appeal of seeing her pretty mouth wrapped around my cock. I’ll make it worth her while, though. “If you do that, I’ll only be able to fuck you longer.”

  “How long do we have?” she murmurs.

  Not long now, a shadowed voice says in the back of my mind. I push it away. “Not nearly long enough to satisfy me. I want to fuck you in the twilight and under the stars and as the sun rises.”

  “Yes, please.” She licks her lips, doubling down on her mouth’s promise of distraction.

  “You’re so fucking hot for me, poppet. Do you know what that does to me?” I push onto my knees, sitting back on my heels, and grab my cock. “You’ve got such a greedy cunt. All I want to do is fuck it. Fuck it hard. Fuck it slow. I want the absence of my cock in your pretty little cunt to feel abnormal. It belongs to me, and I’m going to take care of it as often as I can.”

  Clara’s eyes narrow as she crawls toward me. Then I feel the hot lash of her tongue glide up the length of my dick. I clutch her hair and lift her into a kneeling position before standing myself. I keep my grip on her as she starts to suck me off. She isn’t giving me a blow job. She’s devouring me. My eyes close as her mouth closes over my balls until I can’t wait any longer. I pull away to warn her. “I’m going to fuck your mouth now.”

  Before I can, she leans forward and swallows my length, taking me so deep I groan. The message is clear. This is about her, not me. She’s claiming me. Through the heady satisfaction each stroke of her tongue brings, confusion sets in. She had been clear about her boundaries, but instead of guarding them, she opens the door each time I push against one.

  She fucks me with her hands and mouth until I can’t hold back any longer. But there’s no hesitation when the first spurt of my climax hits her throat. She’s greedy with it, and when I finally look at her, the wantonness written across her face keeps my erection from diminishing in the slightest.

  I need her in my fucking mouth now. “My turn.”

  I drop to her, lowering her onto her back. She parts for my hips, but I can’t think of anything else but tasting her. I trail kisses down her stomach, stopping on her soft inner thigh. “Do you know why I use the wax seal on the notes I send you?”

  She nods down at me. “So they remain private.”

  “That’s the practical reason.” I stop and trace her seam with the tip of my tongue. “The crest is an old family one.”

  “I had no idea they were so official,” she whispers, so breathily it’s hard to make it out.

  “Traditionally, red was used in correspondence to the church,” I explain, my fingers spreading her open like a present. I don’t know how else to tell her what she means to me. I don’t know the words or the actions. I lift my eyes to hers so there can be no mistaking what I’m trying to say. “You are my religion, Clara Bishop. Sacred. Lovely. I want to worship you.”

  She gasps when I drop my
mouth and begin to do just that. I take my time even as the sun fades and reality beckons. I want to linger in this perfect moment forever. She comes too soon. I love how she clenches against my finger, but I’m not ready for this afternoon to end.

  “You taste so fucking good,” I murmur, stealing one last lick. Her thighs clamp against the intrusion, putting my head in a vice grip. I push away, fist my shaft, and stare down at her.

  She lays spread before in welcome, legs fanned open, hair haloing her head. Is this the last time I’ll have her? I shut away the unwanted thought. Maybe it doesn’t have to end. Maybe she’s changed. Maybe I have. Maybe I’m too weak to give her up.

  There’s only one way to silence my mind. I nudge inside her, and Clara’s head lolls back and forth. “I can’t.”

  She trembles beneath me, her body still raw from the last orgasm. I don’t care. I can’t.

  “I say you can,” I bite out. Her body agrees with me, relaxing open. I reward her by circling the pad of my thumb over her clit. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

  I help her hook them over my shoulders. The position allows me to thrust deeper. Her eyes roll back, teeth sinking into her lower lip, hands searching the grass for something to cling to as I drive into her.

  “Wait,” I instruct as I feel the first telltale squeeze around my shaft. “I say when you come this time.”

  I pull out, and she cries out, arching her back like I’ve taken her heart along with me. I brush the tip of my cock down her sex. “I love watching your eager, little cunt opening for me.”

  This earns me a whimper, but I want more.“Tell me what you need, Clara.”

  Her eyes flicker to mine. Her answer is simple. “You.”

  “You have me.”

  I think maybe she’ll have me forever even when I let her go. Is that how this ends?

  “I want your cock,” she says desperately, calling me back to her and away from my thoughts.

  “I had to make sure you were ready,” I say with a lying smile. “I needed you relaxed and wet, so I can fuck you hard.” At least, that part is true.

  “Please,” she whispers. It’s the please that does it—the please that undoes me.

  I don’t know if I’m giving her more or taking more of her as I plunge back inside her body and lay siege. Our bodies crash and collide until she swells around me, and I empty into her. We collapse onto the ground, still wrapped together.

  This is all I want: stolen moments with her in the quiet. “I could do that for the rest of the night.”

  “Let’s,” she murmurs.

  It takes effort to peel myself away. “I love that your body is so needy. It’s quite the challenge to keep your beautiful cunt satisfied.”

  “It’s only needy for you.” Her breath catches when I dip a finger inside her where the proof of our union is still hot and sticky.

  “Yes, that’s right, poppet. Only I can give you pleasure.” Because I’m selfish. Because I won’t give her up. Because I can’t. “And I will give you more tonight after dinner.”

  Her eyes close, and she says, “Promise?”

  Pleasure is all I can give her. The rest will cost her too much. “Everything I say to you is a promise. When I say I’m going to fuck you, that’s a promise. When I say I’m going to make you beg, that’s a promise. And when I say this beautiful cunt is mine, that’s a promise.”

  And then, because I’m selfish and cruel, I kiss her, moving between her legs to prove it one more time.

  We’re quiet as we ride back to the estate. I don’t press Clara to share what she’s thinking. She doesn’t ask me. I only want to linger in this private moment where she is in my arms, safe and removed from my world. By the time we reach the stables, shame has a hold on me entirely. My jacket is tucked around her, but it does little to hide the obvious state I’ve left her in.

  At least, I’d been gentle with the crop. Otherwise, it might not only be her clothes showing signs of my filthy deeds. I keep a hand on her back as a bumbling stablehand helps us. He averts his eyes, but he saw enough to know what I did to her.

  She clutches my jacket like a life preserver as we walk, hand in hand, toward the house. When we reach it, I stop her and peek inside. The last thing I need is a confrontation with my father. The corridor is empty, and I gesture that it’s safe. She takes one step inside, and panic seizes me. It’s as though I hear the clock being wound. I’m not ready for it to begin its countdown. My lips find hers and the answers I want to believe. I’m lost to her until her fingertips graze down my shirt and linger on my scar. I grab her wrist, yanking away like I’ve caught a snake.

  “No, Clara,” I snap.

  Tears well instantly in her eyes, but she plasters a smile on and tugs against my hold on her. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Clara—don’t.” I tighten my grip. “Not here. Not in this place. I can’t explain it to you.”

  “Try,” she says, losing patience. Until now, I’d been concerned she came with an unlimited supply of it.

  “I can’t.” I’ll never be able to. I won’t ask her to carry my burdens or bear out my vices. “It’s not you, Clara.”

  She sighs. “It never is. I thought after this afternoon—”

  “You need to change for dinner, poppet,” I interrupt, some sense of self-preservation kicking in. There’s an itch in my brain. If I admit it—if I let her talk about us—it will cost her everything.

  “Maybe I should just go home,” she says.

  I think it’s a bluff, so I answer. “No.”

  Her eyebrow quirks up, and I know I’ve responded incorrectly.

  Can’t she see how precious our time is now? Can’t she feel the sands slipping away, each already spent? “I want you to stay, but I’ll understand if you go. I’d leave if I could.”

  “Then leave with me.” Her voice is coated with fear. She does feel it, but she doesn’t understand it.

  “It’s not that simple, Clara.” This has to play out. If she leaves now—before our time is up, before my father’s threats can be carried out, before I can ruin everything between us—I won’t be able to let her go. I need more time. “I can’t run from this. Not anymore. But there’s something you should know.”

  She stares at me, waiting for what I have to say. I’m not even certain what to expect until it slips out of my mouth. “If you run, Clara. I will follow you.”

  Only my family is staying in the North Wing, which is why I’m momentarily surprised to see David quietly slip out of a room—until I realize it’s Edward’s. He turns, startling to find me standing there. He takes a deep breath and relaxes.

  David shoves his hands in his linen trousers, his toe tracing a line on the tile. This must be his innocent act. “I needed to borrow—”

  I wave off whatever concocted excuse he plans to give me. “I know, remember?”

  “Actually, I’m leaving. I came by to say goodbye, but he’s not here.”

  “Do you want me to pass a message?” I ask.

  “What’s the point?” David shrugged. “If he cared—”

  “He does,” I cut him off. “It’s complicated, though.”

  “Yeah, I know.” His jaw twitches, and I realize he’s wary of another lecture. I wonder how often he gets them from Edward. “It’s always complicated.”

  “Always?”

  “No,” he admits. “Not when we’re alone—away from all of this.” He gestures to the walls, and I look at it through his eyes. Priceless paintings owned by my family for generations. Antiques so polished they look as though they were acquired new yesterday. And outside, acres of carefully kept land. All given to us because we won some fucking lottery by being born.

  “Is it?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “Yeah.” David nods. “You’re lucky. You can be here with her, out in the open.”

  “With a target on our backs,” I add ruefully. We both understand we’re being hunted. David might resent keeping to the shadows, but it made him less obvious prey.<
br />
  “Royals have always been targets,” he reminds me. “I think that’s why he keeps me secret.”

  This time, I’m the one who nods. “He loves you, you know.”

  David laughs. The sound is hollow like the echo of a dry well. “So, he says.”

  He turns and makes his way down the hall. I watch him leave, knowing the weekend in the country has claimed its first victim. Edward was daft to bring him here. I shouldn’t have brought Clara. We both know it.

  Maybe self-sabotage runs in the family.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  After our ride this afternoon—and my father’s none-too-subtle threat during the hunt—I’m feeling possessive of Clara. I’m not sure if she had to sew her outfit tonight or what’s taking her so long because dinner’s started before she appears in the hall, Edward at her side. A strange sensation grips my heart seeing them together, arm in arm and heads bowed in whispered conversation. I want them to be friends, but I’d rather not share her. Not today. Not knowing how far my father is willing to go to keep us apart. Not knowing that I need to let her go.

  As they get closer, I grow more impatient. “You’re late.”

  “Alexander.” Edward shoots Clara a look and drops her hand as though he senses he’s on my territory. “I was just escorting your lovely girlfriend to dinner.”

  Clara’s eyes dart to the floor, her embarrassment a strange contrast to the scrap of clothing she’s wearing. I give Edward a meaningful stare that says, are you responsible for this? He shrugs, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

  “I can handle that.” I offer Clara my arm but find myself wondering if she’d prefer to be escorted by my brother. The two seem to be getting along, and she needs all the friends she can get. Clara must sense my hesitance because she rolls her eyes. Edward continues on, leaving me for a moment to address her appearance. I run my eyes down her, appreciating how the fabric under the black lace of her dress nearly matches her own skin. She might be completely covered, but she’s giving me ideas. “In this light, you look naked.”