by Geneva Lee
Her giggle suggests she knows how provocative the dress is, but does she know how hard it’s going to be to sit at the table with her while sporting a rock-hard erection?
“We’re late for dinner, X,” she simpers.
I open the door just enough to let light into the dark corridor and get a better look at her. It’s worse in the light. It’s also better.
“What are you wearing?”
Her hand grabs my chin, and I realize her shoes have brought her to nearly my height. I glance down and see how long her legs look streaming from a pair of heels that basically beg me to turn her around and fuck her on the spot.
We’re never going to make it to dinner.
“I wore something sexy for you.”
For them or for me? There’s something different about Clara tonight, and I can’t quite put a finger on it. She’s acting boldly, and I worry any brash confidence she exhibits will only draw more bullying her way. She doesn’t need to try so hard to impress anyone, least of all me. “You always look sexy to me.”
She responds by kissing me so deeply that I forget my worries for a moment. I slide a hand down her hip and around to cup her ass. There’s no resistance from her clothing. It’s practically hanging out, ready to be spanked. “Christ, this is short. Suddenly, I’m not hungry.”
But it’s clear she’s got other plans. “I’m ravenous.”
Despite her proclamation, she totters as she pulls away, and I catch her. I can’t help pressing closer to her, so she can feel my cock straining against my trousers. Maybe I can convince her to skip dinner if she knows what’s on the table.
“Oh X,” she murmurs, “Don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”
“Screw waiting.” Before I can just lift the skimpy excuse for a skirt up and pin her against the wall, she frees herself from my embrace and moves quickly to the dining-room door.
“Delayed gratification, X.”
“Clara,” I call after her. I’m going to need a moment to adjust myself before I dare head inside, and she shouldn’t enter alone. But she ignores me, continuing on, her ass swinging dangerously as she makes her way to her seat at the table.
I can see everything through the crack in the door that she’s left ajar. Dinner’s already begun, and everyone stops to stare at her as she passes. She might be a guest. She might be an American. She might be the ruin of this family if my father is asked, but at this moment, she’s a queen.
It’s so obvious that she rises above all of them.
A server moves toward her, and instinct takes over. No man, no matter how innocent his intentions, is getting near her when she’s dressed like that. I burst through the doors, tossing a nod at my father, and make my way to her. Clara’s own instincts must also be kicking in because she doesn’t move. She doesn’t take her seat. She watches me—only me—as I find my way back to her. I dismiss the server curtly and step behind her chair. “Clara.”
She sits, and I take the seat next to hers, trying to decide if I’m angry or turned on. What on earth has made her think a power play is a good idea? The weekend is already going badly enough. Her hand strays under the table to squeeze my knee, but I push it away. I don’t think my cock can take even the barest touch from her anywhere on my body.
“Nice of you to join us, Alexander,” my father says disdainfully.
I watch Clara as I speak. “I had no idea I was a necessary aspect of your meal. You certainly didn’t need to wait for me. I’m not a fork.”
I wish she wasn’t here like this, showing herself off. I wish he couldn’t see her.
“If you’re finished with this display of machismo, I’d like to eat dinner.”
“So would I,” I say, speaking to him but looking at Clara, my eyes saying something entirely different. I have somewhere to be—namely, balls deep inside you.
“Doesn’t Clara look fabulous, Alexander?” Edward asks, forcing me to address the scandal in the room.
“She’s a bit overdressed for dinner, don’t you think?” Pepper says, sniffing a bit but earning eager laughs from her harem of vipers. “Or under-dressed, depending on how you look at it.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Edward doesn’t bother looking at her. He just picks up his butter knife and smirks. “It makes your complexion look all green. Clashes with your dress.”
“We all know you’re an expert on the subject,” Pepper says, turning to Clara. “I saw that dress at Tamara’s. I had no idea you had even heard of her. I thought she was a bit more exclusive.”
But Clara doesn’t miss a beat. “She can’t be terribly exclusive if you know who she is.”
What is going on?
“I’ll have to speak to her,” Pepper says.
“When you do, give her my love.” Clara dismisses her cattiness with a casual disinterest that only makes her place as the center of attention more clear.
“I will.” But Pepper won’t back down. She’s never known when she was in over her head. That’s probably how she wound up shagging my father. It’s clear she’d meant to get her claws in me and settle down.
Clara turns her attention to her soup, and I do my best to focus on the first course. But the only thing I’m hungry for is her. It takes dedicated focus to lift my spoon to my mouth and eat.
When Clara places her napkin on the table, she whispers, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You seem upset.”
I can’t stop myself from smirking, meeting her eyes to assure her that I’m not. “We still have a lot to learn about one another, Clara. I wasn’t upset. I was turned on. I didn’t think I could stop myself from throwing you across the table and ripping off those shameless excuses for knickers you’re wearing if you touched me again.”
She blinks, her eyes widening just a little, and there is my Clara. Not the Queen of the castle, but the pure soul that I’ve fallen for. She’s so unlike the rest of them.
It’s almost dangerous.
“Maybe you should,” she murmurs.
“Don’t tempt me, Clara. A man only has so much restraint.” I grin again, wondering if she’d even stop me if I spread her across the table and had her for dinner. It would certainly put a stop to all the ridiculous gossip going on around us. Clara’s hips wriggle in her chair, and I know I’ve made her wet. I know she’s picturing the same thing. “Soon, poppet.”
I watch her eat a few bites of her salad, her mood increasingly restless. Why are we here wasting time with all these snobs when we could be alone? David was right. Maybe there is a future for us away from all of this. I should have kept her home this weekend in London. Bringing her here, while a statement, can only make matters worse. Everything would be better if we were cozied up at her flat. Instead, I’ve lit a fuse on a bomb I don’t know how to diffuse.
As a server places my plate in front of me, I don’t bother looking to see what we’re eating. Instead, I decide to goad her a little and enjoy watching her squirm. “Eat up, Clara. You’ll need your strength tonight.”
Her eyes shutter, lost to some waking dream of what I mean by that, when Pepper’s caustic voice interrupts, “I do hope you aren’t having an episode.”
I’m about to intervene when Clara takes a bite, chewing it slowly and glaring so hard at Pepper, I think she might set her on fire with her thoughts.
This does nothing to distract her, though.
“I was so surprised when I found out about your little problem,” Pepper says. “Usually women with eating disorders are thinner.”
I’m vaguely aware of laughter followed by silence.
“Pepper, be careful,” Edward finally warns her. “Your bitch is showing.”
“Edward,” our father cuts in.
“Oh, you aren’t deaf,” Edward turns on him. “You’re just pretending to be oblivious to what’s right in front of your face.”
“Something you count on,” Pepper mutters, batting her eyes meaningfully.
I don’t dare speak t
o defend either of them because when I do, lines will be crossed. It’s what Pepper and my father want: for me to take them on. If I do, there will be no turning back, and I’m fairly certain that if I don’t get control of myself, I’ll wind up throwing one of them through a window. I grip my silverware like it’s an anchor while also reminding myself that it’s not a weapon.
Pepper turns to me. “You should probably get your girlfriend some help before her eating disorder gets her on more tabloid covers.”
It’s the last mistake she’ll make in my presence, but before I can deliver that news, Clara responds serenely, “Pepper, I can’t help noticing you haven’t touched your plate or your salad or your soup. The only thing you’ve had your mouth on is that rocks glass. I’m happy to lend you my doctor’s name after I finish eating.”
“Enough of—” my father starts.
“You don’t get to say enough, not if you sit and watch as she’s slandered,” I say in a voice low enough that everyone stills to hear me.
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Pepper says, as though it’s all innocent teasing. The telling slide of her throat undermines her arrogance. She knows she’s made a mistake.
“You’re here as a guest of this family,” I tell her, “because of Sarah. I’m now rescinding that invitation. I’d like you to leave.”
Pepper gawks at me, her mouth falling open. Around her, everyone starts talking at once.
“This is my house,” my father booms, knocking his fist against the table.
“And surely you stand by your son’s request to have a fair-weather friend removed from our table,” I say, my own voice rising to match his. “Unless Pepper is here at your invitation.”
Checkmate. He knows I have him. Unless he wants his dirty secret unveiled to the entire dinner party—many of whom will eagerly sell the information to the press—he has to play along with my edict. He nods in agreement to my wish before leaving the room without another word.
I have no doubt I’ll pay for getting his little toy sent home early. He’ll have more time to fuck with my relationship now, but I couldn’t allow Pepper’s behavior to continue.
“Pris?” Pepper looks at her friend, but Pris isn’t going to leave with her. Pepper might enjoy attention from her little crowd, but none of them are loyal enough to abandon their own standings with the family.
Next to me, Clara has stopped eating. I want to take her away, but not until I’m sure she’s been fed.
“Finish your dinner,” I urge her.
She stares at her plate as the rest of the dinner party fumbles to continue the evening.
“Now,” I growl under my breath.
She does as I command. One bite after another until her plate is empty. Then she stands and looks at the rest of us. “The meal was delicious and enlightening. Please excuse me.”
Before I can stop her, she runs from the room.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I finally find her standing on the back veranda, staring out at the sweeping lawns. Opening the door, I cross to her and pull her into my arms.
“Alexander—”
I press a finger to her lips before she wastes effort sharing her thoughts. “I won’t apologize for her, Clara. I won’t waste any words on her.”
“I have a few that wouldn’t be wasted on her.” Her voice shakes, some of her confidence eroded.
Pepper stole that from her. My father enabled it. That’s what she’s going to face again and again if I persist in this affair.
“Poppet.” I take her face in my hand and kiss her, wiping away the evening from her mind. I have the power to do that. She submits to me, going limp against my body as my tongue plunges hungrily in her mouth. I want her. I don’t know how to deny myself her. I can’t. I push her hand against my erection to prove how powerless I am in her presence. “This is what you do to me.”
She reaches for my belt buckle, but I won’t let her. Not tonight. I need to push her. After what my father said today, after tonight’s dinner party, I know what I have to do. If she runs, it’s for the best. I’ll go away, ask for a new assignment in the middle east or go off on tour. I’ll find a way to keep myself from her.
It’s for the best.
I simply have to show her just how out of her depths she is.
“No, Clara. When I say,” I demand. She’s let me be dominant before, but not like this. “Right now, I want you to turn around.”
I’ll use her. Possess her. Humiliate her. I’ll do everything she’s asked me not to do, and then she’ll see what I really am.
Then she won’t love me.
Leading her to a stone railing, I push her over the edge and lift her skirt. She’s staring at the house in front of us, at its open windows, at the occasional passing movement as someone walks down a hall. Anyone could look out and see us. That’s the point.
“When I saw you before dinner,” I say, leaning down to whisper, “I wondered where you’d left your skirt.”
She laughs, but there’s a nervous edge to this. I’m taking her outside her comfort zone. “I like this dress.”
“Oh, I like it, too,” I tell her. “I like that I can do this.”
I slide a hand under her skirt, giving in to every fantasy that I’ve had about claiming her like this before the world.
“I must admit I didn’t like sitting next to you, so close to this—” I press my palm to the heat between her legs “—so close to what is mine, knowing I had to wait for it.”
“Antici…pa…tion,” she teases.
“That’s exactly what I had in mind, poppet.” My fingers move under her thong, gliding between her swollen, wet seam. “Do you want to step out of these for me?”
She sighs as I stroke her softly. “You’re giving me a choice?”
“It’s come to my attention that we have finite resources on Earth,” I remind her, “and that I should spare a few pairs of panties.”
“How forward-thinking of you,” She reaches to her hips and wiggles the panties free.
“I think you’ll approve of my planned call to action.” I bend and pick up the lacy undergarment. Then I shove it against her face. “We’re so very close to the kitchens, and I want to keep all those sexy little noises and cries of yours to myself.”
I expect her to cringe as I push them into her mouth, but she whimpers instead. Fuck, that’s not how this is supposed to happen.
“I’m actually jealous, poppet,” I say, stroking my free hand down her neck. “I’ll bet you can taste that sweet, little cunt of yours on those panties, something I’ve been dying to do all night. I suppose I need to do something about that.”
I push her high enough on the railing that her feet come off the ground, her ass rising in the air. She’s completely on display, and I force her legs farther apart, leaving her exposed to the world around us. She continues to moan, and I realize that she’s enjoying this. I’d expected her to be shyer this close to a house full of people. But she’s always had a way of surprising me. How much farther can I push her? I lightly clutch her neck, moving my other hand up higher to spread her cheeks open, revealing the pink pucker of her ass. I push my thumb against it slightly.
“Relax,” I command her. “You belong to me, Clara, and I want you. All of you.”
Her body tightens, tensing despite my order. I push my thumb inside her anyway, plunging in and out while she squirms.
“I’d like to take your ass, Clara,” I muse. I would have eventually. “Remember it is mine, and I will claim it when I choose to.”
Her moans grow louder, muffled by the panties gagging her, but it’s clear that she’s enjoying this. So much for pushing her too far.
“Not tonight.” I need to try a different tactic. “You aren’t ready, poppet. But you can’t deny me my desire to play with you after you teased me all night in this poor excuse for a dress. They’re scared of you, you know. So different, so confident. You’ve unraveled them just as you’ve done to me.”
I begin fucking her ass
with my finger before slipping two more fingers inside her cunt. I don’t hold back as I roughly claim her pleasure. She’s practically crying as her body moves closer and closer to the edge.
“I love that little cry of yours. It sounds so helpless as if you’re begging me to rescue you. Do you want to come?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She nods, and I curl my finger, hitting the spot inside her that sends her orgasm exploding from her. She drenches my hand as she comes on it.
I wanted more. Withdrawing, I bend and suck her clit into my mouth as her thighs protest from the additional stimulus. Before she can squirm free, I push my thumb inside her ass again, and she comes even more powerfully a second time.
I can’t stop, even as her legs clamp against me. Even as she pleads for me to. How can I ever give her up? “I need to be inside you.” I rise and yank the panties from her mouth. Bringing her to her feet. “Ask for it.”
She shakes her head, wobbling on her feet. “I…I can’t.”
“Wrong answer,” I say and unzip my pants.
“Too much,” she moans.
“Poppet.” I know she’ll take it. I know that she’ll take anything I give her. I’ll never convince her to run, which means that I’m going to have to force her to, and nothing I can to her body will be enough to push her away. I’m going to have to break her heart.
But first, I need her one more time. Maybe if I know this is it, it will somehow be enough. I stroke my cock along her swollen cunt. Her legs try to shift, but she keeps them closed. She’s battling herself—and losing.
I kiss her shoulder. I won’t force it. Not anymore. Not if it’s going to be the last time.
“I need to feel you, X,” she finally says, something foreign in her voice. “Your skin on mine.”
I understood what she meant. Not my cock or my mouth. She wanted me—all of me. The parts of me I’d only given to her. It’s the least I can do. But as I unbutton my shirt, I know selfishness drives my actions. I want this, too. I want to be with her, completely bared to one another, nothing between us.