by Geneva Lee
“Alexander!” Albert strode toward us, his mouth set in a grim line. He’d spent the day riding a horse, but not a single strand of his slicked hair was out of place. Despite his composed appearance, his son clearly had him ruffled. “We have guests.”
“Clara is my guest,” Alexander said in a disinterested tone. “I’m taking her to see the grounds. We’ll be back for dinner.”
Albert’s cold gaze flickered over me, no doubt noting my inappropriate riding attire. Alexander might be able to fool the other guests as to his intentions, but it was obvious his father saw through to his son’s true motives. “I expect you to be properly dressed at the table.”
He turned on his heel and left without another word, but behind me, Alexander tensed after the minor altercation. A pattern was beginning to develop. I only wished I could see all the pieces at play, so I might understand both of them a little bit more. That would take time, but with Albert actively sabotaging me, how long did I have?
“C’mon,” he said, and without asking for the riding crop back, we began to move at a steady clip. I clutched the crop in my hands as we moved into a canter, and my body rocked against his, the saddle bruising into my thighs as we rode faster across the estate. When we were out of sight of the main house, Alexander slowed the horse until we came to a halt in a stretch of flat land. Miles of unbroken countryside lay before us. Grassy hills, hay bales and weathered trees stretched across the gray, spring sky. The air was fresh, warm but pure, and I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs. But I was too dialed up to calm down.
“Beautiful,” I murmured as Alexander’s arms encircled me.
“Yes,” he said in a husky voice. I could hear the desire in it and my core clenched, remembering his earlier words.
“You have me all alone,” I reminded him. “What are you going to do to me?”
Alexander chuckled at this as his lips skimmed down the back of my neck. “Not yet, poppet.”
I was already primed for him, my lust a combination of arousal and distress. Alexander’s arms tightened around me as if he sensed my anxiety. Being with him allowed me to forget that I didn’t fit into his world.
“You’re unhappy,” he guessed.
I hesitated before finally nodding. “I don’t belong here.”
“Oh poppet.” Alexander let out a long sigh. “Neither do I.”
The resignation of his confession twisted my heart. He had no choice. The lottery of birth had placed him into this family, and even I couldn’t see a means of escape.
“But,” he continued, “you are wrong about one thing. You do belong here with me.”
I swiveled around recklessly, mashing my lips to his, but despite the urgency rushing through me, he slowed the kiss until I breathed only because he did.
“So are you going to take me for a roll in the hay?” I arched an eyebrow in invitation.
“I’m planning much more depraved things. And I’ll start by…” His words trailed away as his hands slid under my skirt. My clit pulsed with his proximity, recalling the last time he’d employed his very talented fingers. But he didn’t probe in between my legs, instead he stopped on the band of my lacy underwear. “You are such a tease in this little skirt. I’ve had blue balls all morning thinking about your barely covered thighs. Do you know what it’s like to spend the whole day hiding an erection from half the monarchy?”
“I can’t say that I do,” I baited him. My breath hitched at the thought of his hard cock in those pants. I wiggled my butt back teasingly, bumping against his groin and discovered he wasn’t lying.
“Exactly,” he growled against my ear. His hands twitched violently and then ripped through the delicate lace of my panties. I moaned as he removed them, the shredded fabric scratching across my slick sex. He made no move to touch me further, even as he shoved the remains into his jacket pocket. Lifting my skirt so that the wind whispered across my bare ass, he whistled appreciatively.
“This gives a whole new meaning to bareback,” he said, and I could hear the smug smile in his voice.
It did indeed. I was exposed—deliciously so. The leather was smooth against my soft flesh and I felt wanton—ready for him to take me. But he didn’t. Instead he urged the horse on. The first few steps were slow, and the leather seat slapped gently against my clit, leaving the saddle wet with my desire. The sensation startled me, vibrating through my wound-up nerves and setting me on the very edge. But even as Alexander increased our pace to a full gallop, his hand hot against my belly, I didn’t fall over it. My need built in me, overwhelming my senses until I was humming with want. I squirmed in his arms in an attempt to encourage his hand to slip further down, but he held me steady, completely in control of my body and its release.
My only solace was the stiff bulge that pressed against my backside. He was as aroused as I was, and soon—when he stopped his sweet torture—he would be inside me. My sex swelled at the thought, and tiny ripples of anticipation trembled through me. All I needed was his touch to push me over.
We rode for what felt like an eternity, and I fought the urge to touch myself to end the torment. I knew he would never allow it, but mostly I wanted Alexander to undo me. Simple masturbation no longer held any appeal to me—not while this sinfully sexy man was pressed against me. I needed his cock, his fingers, his tongue. My pleasure belonged to him. When I could take no more, I shifted in the saddle and laid my head back, imploring him to stop. He slowed enough that he could lift his hand to my face to softly stroke my cheek. “Yes, poppet?”
“Please.” No longer racing along at a furious clip, my desire filtered through my blood, winding every nerve in my body into taut bands.
“Please what?” His mouth twisted in pleasure, betraying that he already knew.
“Please, stop. I…need…you.” The words were choked, still so foreign to the girl who never asked for what she wanted. Alexander had told me once that I would beg for him, and he was right. I’d been begging him since the first time he touched me.
His hand dropped to my neck, wrapping around it with a light but firm grip.
“Say it, Clara,” he commanded.
“I want you to fuck me,” I said in a voice barely over a whisper. I felt any moment I might burst into flames if he didn’t touch me, but it was this tension controlling my body that made it difficult to even speak. I could think only of his lips on mine. His flesh against mine.
Alexander paused. “Want or need?”
I swallowed against the raw desire building in my throat and continued my plea. “I need your cock. I need you to fuck me until I can’t take any more. Please.”
He didn’t speak as he dismounted the horse, but when I turned to follow suit, he stopped me, pushing apart my legs until I was spread before him. His eyes grew heavy as he trailed his fingers down the soft skin of my thighs, but his hands traveled no further. I was merely on display to him, and he studied me as a connoisseur of art might regard a painting or a sculpture, worshipping the work before his eyes.
I forced myself to breathe deeply, afraid I might come from the intensity of his gaze alone, locked as I was under it until he snapped out of the reverie and helped me down. As soon as my boots hit the grass, he was on me. Lips crushed together as our hands tangled in hair and clothes. I tugged off his jacket, throwing it to the ground before his hands caught my wrist and he shook his head. He drew my arms up and pinned them together with one hand. I didn’t fight against the raw, predatory instinct that rolled off him any longer. Instead, I submitted to it, nearly overwhelmed by my desire for him. With his other hand, he shoved down my skirt until it pooled around my ankles. Then he yanked open my blouse, a few buttons popping off in the process. Later, when I had to go back to the house wearing no panties and missing buttons—that would be a pain in the ass. Right now, it set my body to smolder as he tugged my breasts free from my bra.
His head moved down, capturing my breast and sucking my nipple deep into his mouth. I gasped as he flicked it, teasing me with his ton
gue, and I felt my other nipple pebble in anticipation. He shifted his attention to its furl, and I wished there were more of him—that I could feel the heat of his breath on every bit of my body. Alexander continued his playful assault on my breasts until they were swollen and heavy and my knees grew weak, threatening to betray me. But he caught me and tsked in my ear. “Not yet, poppet.”
I moaned as his words whispered across my neck. He could make me come with his voice alone, but he wouldn’t. Alexander was generous with his pleasure, but it was always on his terms. Today he had made it clear he was going to push me to the height of ecstasy, push me until I broke—and I wanted nothing more.
I needed it like I needed him.
He released my arms, and they fell to my sides, my muscles burning and weak. “Take off your bra.”
I did as I was told, my eyes fixed on his beautiful face. I imagined running my tongue along his chiseled jaw as I opened the buttons that had escaped his massacre. As I shrugged off the bra, I focused on the scar over his left eyebrow, remembering how he’d sighed as I touched it. I was still learning how significant that moment had been between us. Those brutal scars that he once thought marred his perfect body only made it more beautiful. They reminded me that this god before me was a man.
Releasing the last remnant of my day’s ensemble to the ground, I stood before him stripped down to my boots. The June air was warm on my body, even under the shade of a nearby tree.
“I have half a mind to set you back on that horse and watch your tits and ass bounce across the countryside.”
My eyebrows shot up. I couldn’t hide my exasperation as the thought. “I have something else I’d rather ride.”
A smirk carved across his face. He knew he’d gotten to me, which meant he also knew he could drive me to the very brink of sanity with his torturous teasing.
“You get off on this, don’t you?” I asked. “Nearly driving me half-crazy until you fuck me?”
A darkness flickered in his eyes as he considered my question. “I do, poppet, which is why I should take you over my knee and smack that sass right out of you.”
I couldn’t contain the tremor of pleasure that shuddered through me at the thought of being bent over his knee. I would never have allowed any other man to do something like spank me. I probably wouldn’t have allowed them to even mention it, but in the short time I had known Alexander, his dominance had consumed me, taking me to the brink of too much and never past it. And now I was desperate to have his hands on me in any way I could.
“In fact…” His voice trailed away as his eyes landed on something behind me. I didn’t dare to turn, uncertain if I wanted to know what had caught his attention so fully. Alexander took my hand and brushed a kiss across the top. “I need to know that you trust me.”
“I thought I had proven that already,” I said. After what we’d experienced together, I thought it was obvious. “I’ve never been with anyone like I’ve been with you.”
“I assumed that much.” The cocky tone was back in his voice. “That doesn’t mean you trust me.”
“Do you trust me?” I asked as boldly as I could while standing stark naked in the middle of the countryside.
Alexander’s eyes grew distant, and I wished I could take it back, but instead of growing cold and hard as they had when I’d stepped over the unstated boundary that separated us before, this time they flashed, filling with fire as he nodded his head. “I think you’re the only person I’ve ever trusted.”
I forgot to breathe as the bare, vulnerable side of Alexander flashed before my eyes. It was gone in an instant, replaced by the rakish, handsome man he usually showed the world, but I’d seen through his disguise once more. He’d asked me the question first and it lingered still, dancing in the smoldering flames of his irises.
“Yes,” I whispered, knowing he needed to hear me say it. “I trust you.”
His answering smile wasn’t the arrogant grin that usually melted my panties, it was quiet and serious. The victory in it was present, but it was not full of self-satisfaction. He did trust me, and I’d given him that which he craved the most: control. I’d given my body, my mind, and—I realized with a pang—my heart.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
I nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed that there was a need for one, but Alexander had pushed my body further and further since I’d submitted to his darker desires. I’d only been able to do it because I saw his compulsion to protect me. “Brimstone.”
“Turn around and face the tree,” he commanded.
I did as I was told, and he rewarded me with the contact I so desperately craved. His hands swept up my sides, encouraging my arms to rise over my head, allowing him access to me. I braced myself against the tree as he pressed against me. His riding clothes scratched gently across my bare skin, making me ache for the touch of his skin against mine. For now, I relished the roughness of his probing fingers as they caressed my abdomen and trailed around to my backside, leaving paths of fire in their wake. Then he pulled away abruptly.
“Close your eyes.”
I squeezed them shut and waited for him to return for what felt like an eternity. I was barely conscious of the rough bark digging into the flesh of my wrists or the slight soreness from my stretching limbs. When he finally came back, I felt his presence even though he didn’t touch me.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered me, and I obliged, my body viscerally recalling the times he’d commanded me to do so before. “That is a fucking beautiful sight.”
His hand clamped over my sex and a low growl rumbled through him. He tempted me with his contact but offered no reprieve from my desires, even as I felt his own jabbing against my bare ass.
“Your cunt is so wet for me,” he rasped. “Feel how wet you are.”
I dropped a trembling arm between my legs, and he caught my hand, pushing it against my throbbing, swollen sex. It was slick, heavy with lust, and ready for him. Despite myself, my fingers found my clit, but he pushed my hand away. “None of that.”
I whimpered at the chastisement, the potential pleasure welling up in me until I thought I might burst, and when he moved away, leaving me to feel abandoned and desperate in my need, I thought for a moment I might cry. My safe word crept onto my tongue, and I fought the urge to say it. He had asked me to trust him, revealing for a moment the wounded man he was beneath the veneer of arrogance he wore like a well-cut suit, and I was powerless to say no to his request.
I bit my lip and waited, ready for whatever he might give me.
The first lash bit against my clit, vibrating through my body and making me cry out. It wasn’t painful, merely unexpected, and it wasn’t enough to push me over the cliff my body clung to. Cold leather rubbed across my seam, and I realized Alexander had found a purpose for the riding crop after all. Then the smooth rod was gone. I held my breath until it cracked lightly against my backside. The sting seared across my tender flesh, raising goose bumps along my skin. Alexander’s hand rubbed the spot with soft strokes, dissipating the remaining heat left by the whip, even as the flame kindling between my legs blazed into an inferno. He continued his massage, and I realized he was testing me, waiting for me to give the word that would urge him on or deliver me from him.
“More,” I moaned.
Alexander stepped forward and pressed a kiss to my neck—a simple gesture of gentle reassurance before he stepped back again. This time I heard the crop cut through the air before it smacked against my other cheek. The lash was more forceful but still controlled, even though my knees buckled at its impact. I cried out his name in affirmation of my pleasure.
“Wider, poppet,” he demanded, a dangerous note tucked into the words.
The crop pushed between my legs again, rubbing deliberately before it whipped against my clit once more. The bundle of nerves sang with longing. I was so close, but I knew this couldn’t satisfy my growing need. The orgasm mounting in me felt hollow. It wouldn’t diminish my craving. Only he could do
that.
“I need you,” I cried as the crop snapped against my sensitive bud again. Alexander stilled behind me, so I continued, “I need you inside me. I need you to fill me.”
“Are you sure, poppet?” he asked, but even as he spoke, I heard his zipper.
I managed to nod despite the lightness swimming through my head. Alexander intoxicated me. Without his touch, I forgot how to breathe. He had become the center of gravity I returned to after being stretched past my limits. I needed that haven now more than I ever had. Not just because he’d taken me to the very brink of pleasure, but because here, amongst his family and friends, our connection felt tenuous. I yearned for him, coveted him.
His finger dipped into my sex, and I relaxed against him.
“You bloom for me like a flower,” he murmured against my ear. The finger disappeared and the empty sensation returned, but it evaporated as I felt the thick crest of his cock nudging against my entrance. Even though I was practically dripping for him, I braced myself for the initial stroke—the one that always walked the line between pain and pleasure.
“I need to fuck you, Clara,” he growled, his breath hot in my ear, and his cock twitching between my legs. “I don’t know if I can be gentle.”
I wanted all of him.
The angel and the demon.
The heaven and the hell.
He was my curse and my salvation.
I answered without a second thought. “Don’t be.”
Alexander groaned at my words, one hand wrapping fiercely around my belly as the other pushed his cock inside my trembling cleft. Despite his warning, he stilled for a moment. His now free hand brushed the hair from my neck, pushing it over my shoulder and holding it there, so that he could crush his body closer to mine. And then without further warning, he slammed into me, igniting a surge of flames that burned through my sex. His hand tangled in my hair, tugging me to him, yanking my head back until his lips captured mine. He continued his tireless assault as he guided my quivering legs down against his hard quads. I was nearly sitting on him, his powerful legs bent to allow him deeper access as he stroked against my velvet walls.