For King and Country

by Geneva Lee

  Holding his weight up with one arm as he rammed into me, his other hand grabbed my neck, forcing me to look at him.

  “You are mine, Clara,” he snarled, his grip tightening over my throat. “I claim you. Do you understand?”

  The ferocity of his body and the weight of his words settled in my chest, but I took both with a feeble nod as a tear spilled down my cheek. I was his. I knew that. Alexander owned me, and my tears were a curious mix of joy and sorrow and fear. The fire in his eyes blazed brighter as I wept and his hips rolled in wild, raw circles as he tormented my body and soul.

  “I’m hurting you now,” he said gruffly, “like you wanted, Clara. Do you want me to stop?”

  A “no” escaped my lips instead of a yes, and I groaned as he slammed his cock into me.

  “You like it, but you think you don’t,” he grunted. “I expect you to come, Clara.”

  “I can’t,” I moaned. I was nowhere near release. My sex stung from his powerful thrusts and the tension coiling through my body had nothing to do with arousal.

  “Accept the pain,” he ordered. “Let go.”

  He released my neck and dropped his mouth to my breast, sucking my nipple hard into his mouth and swirling his tongue over the furl. Then he bit down, catching it in his teeth and tugging it until I cried out. Alexander’s fingers plumped my breast as blood rushed to its sensitive flesh, and then he bit down again, dragging his teeth across the delicate tip. Something shifted inside me, and I relented to the torment, allowing it to overtake my shredded nerves, and in that moment, the pain transmuted to ecstasy.

  I arched forward, weeping and screaming, as pleasure rocked through me, painting the world black. There was nothing but the stinging smack of his flesh against mine. The iron on my tongue and swollen lips. The sharp bite of his teeth on my breast. There was only him. He was my light in the darkness.

  Collapsing with a sob onto the bed, I drew back, covering my face with my hands, as ashamed of the arousal I still felt as I was of the pleasure I’d taken from the brutal exchange.

  Alexander slowed his movements, continuing to circle gently against my throbbing cunt. His body enveloped mine as he slid his arms under me, cradling me to him as he pressed kisses along my tender, swollen breasts. Rolling to his side carefully so as to keep our bodies entwined, he stroked slowly in and out of me.

  He pushed my hands away from my face and brought his mouth to mine. The kiss was warm and deep, and he took his time, parting my lips gradually until a sigh escaped me. There was no clash of tongues or nip of teeth, only a languid, deliberate kiss that melted through my tested body.

  “Clara?” He said my name in a silky voice, calling me back to him.

  I opened my tear-stained eyes and met his, discovering that the smoldering fire in them had cooled. There were no ghosts lurking there. We had chased his demons away, but it had almost broken me.

  And yet, I felt alive. My skin sang with the memory of agony and bliss. The feelings overwhelmed me, and I brought my hands to his chest, holding my palm flat against his heart. It beat steadily, evenly, his primal urges finally sated, and I counted the beats until my pulse matched his.

  Alexander’s hips rolled against me, still filling my sex, but the strain and torment were gone. Despite everything, he hadn’t come, and I searched his face, suddenly fearing I’d done something wrong.

  “Your pleasure is mine,” he whispered. “I will push your body until it nearly breaks, but I will never hurt you.”

  And he hadn’t. The pain of the encounter had ebbed from my body, leaving only a persistent, aching rapture in its place.

  “And can I break you?” I murmured, stroking my hand down his face.

  He sighed and shook his head. “I’m already broken.”

  “Then maybe I can fix you.” My fingers trembled as I moved my hand lower until it found the hem of his shirt. Alexander’s eyes stayed focused on mine as I slipped under the fabric and softly brushed my fingertips across the taut stack of abs he kept hidden from me. His body stiffened, his cock still pulsing inside of me.

  A ragged moan escaped his lips at the contact, but he didn’t turn away and he didn’t stop me. I pressed my hand cautiously to his stomach, relishing his firmness, and then allowed my hand to drift further.

  Alexander sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t.”

  But there was no anger in his words, only fear, and something else that he kept concealed. I closed my eyes, breaking the heady contact of his gaze so that I could think clearly. And that’s when I saw what he was hiding.

  Desire.

  Opening my eyes, I stared at him, finally understanding, and spoke softly, “I claim this body. You are mine, Alexander. All of you.”

  And as I spoke, my fingers strayed upward, running across his ribs to feel the scars that marred his beautiful body. I paused, lingering over the knotted skin, but I didn’t pull away, even as a shudder racked through Alexander’s body.

  Slowly, I began to circle my hips against his shaft as I grew bolder, exploring the part of himself that he’d kept hidden for so long. His breaths came quickly and he buried his head against my breast, trapping my hands to his chest. He clutched my ass as I ground against him until his desire won out over his shame, and he thrust fervently into my raw entrance, his cock erupting and filling me with surge after surge of his seed. The sensation overwhelmed me, splintering and rushing through me in an intense deluge that electrified me even as I felt the cold salt of tears on my breasts.

  As the first light of dawn stole through my bedroom window, I woke with a start. What had I forgotten? Then it hit me—Alexander was in my bed. He was still sleeping, breathing softly, his eyelids flickering slightly as he shifted and rolled onto his side. Biting my lip, I brushed a finger down his cheek. He’d taken off the mask he always wore last night and showed me the monster behind it, but all I had seen was him. Alexander was beautiful but broken. He was sexy but jagged. And although he’d revealed part of himself to me, I knew now that I’d only skimmed the surface of his darkness.

  Before last night, I’d felt torn between unraveling his mystery and running as fast as I could from his brutal sensuality. Now I no longer had a choice. Not only because I’d seen past his facade, but because he’d forced me to see past my own. What he’d shown me should have terrified me, but it only made me crave him more.

  I slipped from the bed, gliding across the floor in bare feet, so I wouldn’t wake him. He was at peace for the moment, and I knew his demons waited for him when he awoke.

  Belle was in the kitchen, sporting pajama shorts, as she pushed eggs around a frying pan. Even with her hair piled messy on top of her head and no makeup, she looked gorgeous. After my decidedly rough night, I didn’t even want to look in a mirror.

  “I was worried when you left the ball early,” she said, blowing me a kiss, “but when I got home, I realized you didn’t leave alone.”

  My cheeks flamed and I reached into the cupboard for a glass. I’d been so caught up in Alexander last night that I hadn’t considered she might be home. This building had survived the Blitz, so I could only hope that meant it had sturdy and thick walls. Turning on the faucet, I filled the cup with water, hoping that the nonchalant gesture would hide my embarrassment.

  “You want some birth control to go with that?” Belle asked. “’Cause judging from the sounds coming from you bedroom, you need it.”

  “You’re hilarious,” I said, the rosy glow on my cheeks staining deeper.

  “Don’t I know it? And I haven’t even started on all the puns I came up with when you kept me awake with your moaning last night.” She scooped some eggs out of the pan and onto a plate.

  I groaned. “I can’t wait.”

  “You’ll see, it’s going to be a real scream,” she said with a wink. “Oh wait, you already did all the screaming.”

  “Make sure you get some of ‘your mama’ or ‘that’s what she said’ jabs in there when you’re coming up with this ground-breaking material,”
I advised her.

  “Pass me the beans,” she said.

  I slid the bowl to her and she ladled some next to the eggs.

  “Thanks,” I said, “I’m starving.”

  Belle wagged a finger at me, her eyebrow arched suggestively. “I bet you are, but these aren’t for you. I’ll make you some next. Believe it or not, you weren’t the only one who got some action last night.”

  I tugged at the hem of my thin tank top. “Is Philip here?”

  “Yep, I left him in bed.”

  “So maybe all that screaming you claim occurred wasn’t just me,” I teased.

  “Philip’s not really a roller coaster ride,” Belle said, adding quickly, “not that I’m complaining.”

  Now her cheeks were flushed, but I smiled at her. “Hey, no judgment.”

  If every man were as amazing in the sack as Alexander, no one would ever leave bed. Society couldn’t handle that level of virility in the standard package.

  “Crap, I forgot the sausages.” Belle threw some into a pan and flipped the hob back on. “So you couldn’t even find time to say goodnight last night before you had to rip his clothes off, huh?”

  I hesitated, unsure of how much to tell Belle. On one hand, she was my best friend. On the other, explaining the complexities of my relationship with Alexander wasn’t exactly going to be easy. Still trying to hide what was really going on was by far the most unhealthy thing I could think of, and I needed a confidant. “Actually, I did leave alone.”

  “I guessed,” Belle admitted. “Alexander found me when he was looking for you. He seemed worried, although it is hard to read that man. What happened?”

  Tell me about it. I was only beginning to understand him myself. But last night’s sudden departure actually had very little to do with him. My stomach churned as I thought of how I’d been treated last night by his friends and family. “I don’t know. It all seems so silly now. Let’s just say I met his family and they aren’t very nice.”

  “Imagine that,” Belle said dryly. “The Royal Family is a bunch of assholes.”

  Despite feeling sick, this made me laugh. “I know, right? Someone alert the media.”

  “I can’t believe you just made an alert the media joke after making fun of my jokes earlier,” Belle said, sticking her lower lip out in a well-practiced pout.

  “I’ll admit it’s not my freshest material,” I said.

  “And that blonde—what was her name again?” Belle asked.

  I wished I could forget her name. If there was one thing I didn’t want to even think about, it was Pepper. How could someone so beautiful be so incredibly ugly? But I knew the answer to that. Pepper could have any man she wanted, but the trouble was that she wanted mine.

  “Pepper Lockwood,” I said, releasing a pent-up sigh of frustration.

  “She was the one in the tabloids, right?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Oh god. I suppose it doesn’t help that she’s even prettier in person,” Belle said, throwing an arm around my shoulder and leaning against me. “She looks like a bitch.”

  “That’s not just a look.” I recounted to Belle that after Pepper’s fake friendly introduction, she’d revealed her true colors. Belle’s eyes narrowed a little with each new piece of information. They were slits by the time I finished.

  “What a capital B,” Belle said.

  “You totally knew it, too,” I said, referencing Belle’s warning look the night before.

  She shrugged modestly. “I hoped I was wrong.”

  “You were right,” I admitted. “And the worst part is that I can’t tell Alexander what she said or how she acted, but it’s clear she’s done a number on the entire family.”

  “Someone has to be smart enough to see past her little act.”

  “Morning!” Philip said he shuffled into the kitchen.

  Belle and I startled apart, and she glared at her fiancé as though he was to blame for our skittishness. I knew exactly why we were on edge. It could just as easily had been Alexander walking through the door.

  “Lovely to see you, Clara,” Philip said, seemingly unaware of our reaction to his entrance. He rambled over and grabbed the kettle from the hob, pouring some hot water for his morning tea. “I didn’t get a chance to say hello last night, although I heard you looked fabulous.”

  “That’s not all he heard,” Belle said as she handed him a loaded plate.

  He frowned at her, obviously not as impressed with her wit as she was. “Thank you,” he said stiffly.

  “Of course.” She shrugged as if this was no big deal, but I saw the gleam as she turned around. There’d been some question as to her ability to be a proper wife, but certainly having breakfast ready proved a thing or two about that. “Should I make a plate for Alexander?”

  I hesitated, torn between making certain that he felt welcome and not wanting to disturb him. There was also the fact that I had a hard time imagining Alexander sitting down to Saturday morning breakfast. It was too normal.

  “Alexander is here?” Philip asked, abandoning his fork and knife to stare at us.

  “Who on earth did you think was making that noise last night?” Belle asked.

  “A neighbor,” Philip responded in a clipped tone. His gaze flickered over me before returning to his plate, but I caught the flash of disgust—and pity—in his eyes. I’d never been a huge fan of Sir Philip Abernathy, but this was the final straw. He had no right to look at me that way.

  “Ignore him,” Belle ordered me under her breath. Out loud she said, “What does Alexander like?”

  I wasn’t sure. I’d seen him eat a burger, but I had no clue how he took his eggs or if he preferred coffee or tea with his breakfast. These were the kinds of things you were supposed to know about a guy before you slept with him. At least I’d known all of them about Daniel.

  “Tea. No milk,” Alexander said, coming into view. He was dressed in his undershirt and tuxedo slacks but his feet were bare. I ached to tear the clothes off him and take him back to bed where things between us actually made sense. “As for breakfast, everything. I’m starving. I worked up an appetite last night.”

  Alexander flashed me a sly smile that suggested he wasn’t simply hungry for food. If he wasn’t careful, poor Philip was going to be eating eggs while watching me mount Alexander on the counter.

  I expected a smart-ass comment from Belle, but none came and when I turned to goad her, she was staring at Alexander with a dreamy expression plastered to her face.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, snatching the plate from her hand and filling it up before she’d even turned to see what was happening.

  Alexander took a barstool next to Philip, and they sat there quietly. I’d been under the impression they knew one another, but if they did, then they certainly weren’t on friendly terms. My thoughts jumped to the bedroom. I wished I were in there with Alexander instead of watching the cold war at the counter.

  Belle handed me a mug of tea and shrugged, as if to say what can you do? “What do you want, Clara?”

  “Oh, I’m fine.” There was no way she’d made enough for the four of us.

  “Absolutely not. What do you want?” she repeated.

  “Some eggs and toast, I guess.” There was no use fighting her on it. She’d see the food got in my mouth whether she had to force it down my throat or not.

  Belle shot me a what now look, glancing toward the bar, and I frowned. Philip struck me as a type who often disapproved of people and how they spent their free time. If I had to guess, Alexander’s past wasn’t something he took lightly, and if he had read half the stories that were posted about Alexander to sites like TMI, I couldn’t blame him. But he didn’t know him. They were related in some distant way, but that didn’t mean they were family.

  “What are your plans today?” Belle asked me, obviously desperate to break the tension in the air.

  “Not sure,” I said.

  “Let’s go shopping.”

  I looked to A
lexander without meaning to, as if to see if this was okay. But as soon as I realized what I was doing, I shook myself. I didn’t have plans with Alexander, which made me free to make other plans.

  Alexander saw the look and spoke up. “I have a family thing, and I’m certain my father will require a few hours of explanation as to why I left last night.”

  I mouthed sorry to him, but he shook his head, dismissing the apology, and smiled reassuringly.

  “Then let’s go!” Belle clapped her hands in excitement. “There’s a new boutique in Notting Hill.”

  “Notting Hill on a Saturday will be a mad house,” Philip threw in, but we both ignored him.

  “I need to shower and then we can go,” I promised her. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

  “I would love to, but duty calls,” Alexander said grimly.

  Next to him, Philip guffawed.

  “Is that funny?” Alexander asked.

  “I find the idea of you and duty rather amusing,” Philip admitted.

  “Philip!” Belle protested, but it was too late.

  “I served in Afghanistan and Iraq for seven years,” Alexander said in a low voice, radiating with contempt. “I know more about duty than the average Englishman can fathom.”

  “And what of honor?” Philip asked. “Did you manage to find some over there? Or is it too late for that?”

  Belle’s shocked face mirrored mine, but neither of us spoke. We could only watch as Alexander stood and stormed to my bedroom, appearing again a moment later, carrying his jacket and shoes.

  “You don’t have to go,” I said in a quiet voice.

  “I have things to do,” he responded gruffly, moving past me toward the front door.

  But he pivoted at the door and grabbed me around the waist, crushing his lips against mine in a possessive display that clearly wasn’t meant for me. He was marking me for Philip to see. I knew that I should stop him, but I’d already melted into him. When he broke away, he brushed a finger over my bruised lips and smiled grimly.