For King and Country

by Geneva Lee

  “You don’t get to say enough,” Alexander said in an even voice so deadly calm that it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “Not if you watch as she’s slandered.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic,” Pepper said, but I saw her throat slide as she swallowed nervously.

  “You’re here as a guest of this family,” Alexander reminded her, “because of Sarah. I’m now rescinding that invitation. I’d like you to leave.”

  Pepper stared at him, eyes wide as saucers, as the entire table erupted into conflicting opinions on Alexander’s etiquette.

  “This is my house,” Albert said, 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,” Alexander said loudly to match the volume of his father’s voice. “Unless Pepper is here at your invitation.”

  The implication in Alexander’s words was clear, and his father’s nostrils flared. Pepper and Albert? It couldn’t be true, although it would explain a lot.

  Albert gave a terse nod of support to his son, before rising and exiting the room. The mirth was now completely stripped from Pepper’s face as she stumbled to her feet, her eyes flashing to her companions as if she expected one of them to come with her.

  “Pris?” she mumbled, her eyes pleading.

  Pris opened her mouth and then shut it again, giving Pepper an apologetic smile. Pepper lifted her head, shooting one more withering look my way as she did, and marched from the room without another word.

  “Finish your dinner,” Alexander said softly.

  I swallowed and stared at my plate. My appetite was gone, replaced by a pit in my stomach that was quickly filling with dread. Around us, the others picked at their food and no one spoke. Everyone too lost to think of anything to say.

  “Now,” he added in a more commanding tone, keeping his voice lowered so that only I could hear.

  I took a bite and another, but I didn’t taste anything. Pepper might be gone, but I felt eyes watching me, looking away as soon as they were caught. Eating became an act of rebellion. I would show them they were wrong about me. There was no glory in it though, only the hollowness of regret. I wished I had never come here.

  When I was finished, I stood and nodded toward the head of the table. “The meal was delicious and enlightening. Please excuse me.”

  I rushed from the room, exiting out the door that the servers had brought the food through. I moved so quickly that I nearly ran into one carrying a large platter of decadent looking desserts. I muttered an apology without stopping.

  I need to get out of this house.

  It was my only thought as I dodged the staff in the kitchen, spotting a back entrance in the process. Pushing open the door while the cook gawked at me, I stumbled onto a back patio. The sun had faded, leaving only the remnants of twilight in the sky, and I breathed in the evening air, trying to steady my heart and my thoughts. Turning back, I stared at the estate. It sprawled behind me, and I marveled that with its spacious rooms and grand arches, I could barely breathe inside it as though the walls were slowly moving in on me, crushing me so quietly that no one could hear me scream.

  The back door opened and Alexander stepped through. Without a word, he strode toward me, grabbed my hand and pulled me along after him. When we’d moved outside the view of the kitchen windows, he yanked me to him.

  “Alexander—”

  But his finger flew to my mouth, silencing my protest. “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,” I said, but my voice quivered, betraying that she had managed to get to me.

  “Poppet.” The endearment was soft as he took my face in his hands. He brought his lips to mine so slowly that I felt the electricity building between us. It exploded as our mouths met in white-hot passion. Alexander ravaged me, and the message was clear as his tongue plunged possessively inside my mouth, catching my own and sucking it into submission: I belonged to him. Nothing mattered but what he said. That might have scared me with another man, but with Alexander it set me free. I’d spent my whole life seeing myself through a funhouse mirror, but Alexander’s possession had clarified that warped vision, allowing me to see myself as he saw me.

  I was limp under his domination, clay to be molded for his pleasure, knowing that when I gave myself to him, I’d experience more pleasure than I could have ever imagined. Alexander broke the kiss, stepping away, and I swayed, unbalanced without his touch. He sensed this and took my hand, placing it over the stiff bulge in his slacks. “This is what you do to me.”

  My fingers flew to his belt buckle, but he pushed them away.

  “No, Clara. When I say,” he reminded me. “Right now, I want you to turn around.”

  My face flushed as desire pooled in my core, imagining Alexander fucking me right here. I did as he said, and Alexander pressed a hand to the small of my back, guiding me a few paces forward until we reached a stone balustrade that wrapped around the veranda. He pushed me gently against it, bending me over the railing. I faced the house, unsurprised to see the windows of this section dark.

  “When I saw you before dinner,” he murmured, brushing my hair over my shoulder to whisper in my ear, “I wondered where you’d left your skirt.”

  I giggled nervously. “I like this dress.”

  “Oh, I like it, too,” he said. “I like that I can do this.”

  His hand slipped easily under my skirt and between my legs.

  “I must admit I didn’t like sitting next to you, so close to this—” he cupped my sex through the lace of my thong “—so close to what is mine, knowing I had to wait for it.”

  “Antici…pa…tion,” I breathed, drawing out the word.

  “That’s exactly what I had in mind, poppet.” His fingers drifted under the negligible fabric, sliding smoothly between my lips. “Do you want to step out of these for me?”

  I sighed, my eyes shut as I relished the sensation of his long, rough fingers gliding wickedly between my seam. “You’re giving me a choice?”

  “It’s come to my attention that we have finite resources on Earth,” he repeated my earlier jibe, “and that I should spare a few pairs of panties.”

  “How forward-thinking of you,” I said, hitching my thumbs under the straps of my thong and wiggling them until they fell at my feet.

  “I think you’ll approve of my planned call to action.” Alexander bent and retrieved the lacy scrap at my feet. He brought it to my lips and urged them open, stuffing them into my mouth. “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 whimpered against the fabric in my mouth, as a hint of perfume and muskiness flooded my nostrils.

  “I’m actually jealous, poppet,” he said, his hand caressing down my throat and coming to rest at the nape of my 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.”

  Alexander pushed me farther over the bannister until my feet dangled slightly in the air. He stepped between my legs, spreading me before him, my short skirt providing no resistance. His hand stayed firm on my neck and his other one massaged down my bare ass until one finger slid down my crack, pushing me open for his greedy eyes. I protested feebly against my makeshift gag as his thumb circled around the soft, pink pucker he found there.

  “Relax,” Alexander ordered. “You belong to me, Clara, and I want you. All of you.”

  My eyes clenched shut as his thumb pushed against that forbidden place. I had never wanted something like this, but I was powerless to his touch. I needed to give all of myself to him. Trusting Alexander meant opening myself to him even when it scared me, although I couldn’t deny the sweep of pleasure as he drew his finger in and out of me in slow, careful strokes.

  “I’d like to take your ass, Clara,” he said in a voi
ce that warned me not to protest. “Remember it is mine, and I will claim it when I choose to.”

  He increased the pressure of his massage until the lace caught my moans.

  “Not tonight,” he said with a finality that left me panting with desperation. “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.”

  He didn’t stop as he spoke, rather he pushed in and out faster until I clung to the railing, holding on as the first waves of pleasure broke across me. Alexander slipped two fingers into my cleft, increasing the pressure and filling me abundantly as he stretched me past my boundaries. He fucked me slowly until I cried out, overwhelmed by the new sensations that swelled in me. The panties muffled my exclamations, and I bit down on them.

  “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?” he asked in a raspy voice that sent goose bumps shivering across my skin.

  I nodded, unable to speak. The world around me was a blur of darkness and light. I was lost to my pleasure, lost to the sensations crowding into my body, rippling out like tiny emissaries to warn of an oncoming storm. And no matter how overwhelmed I was, I clung to the edge, never wanting this moment to end.

  Alexander removed his fingers, drawing a gasp of displeasure from me as he left me aching and pulsing with need. But he immediately dipped down, running his tongue agonizingly slowly along my swollen lips, stopping to attend to my throbbing clit with long, drawing pulls. Then, without warning, his thumb pushed inside my rear, driving me over the precipice as my orgasm surged through me in powerful crests that broke across my body and rushed over my skin. It was too much. It was everything.

  But Alexander continued even as my legs clamped against his head and I called out for him to stop, although I wished he never would.

  He finally released me, only to rise and press his body against mine. “I need to be inside you.” Alexander pulled the panties out of my mouth. “Ask for it.”

  My legs shook under me, and my sex pulsed, tender and swollen. I couldn’t handle any more. I was too sore, too tired to stand. “I…I can’t.”

  “Wrong answer,” he breathed, and I heard his pants unzip.

  “Too much,” I whimpered.

  “Poppet,” he soothed me, even as his cock slipped between my legs, pressing hot against my sensitive flesh. He waited, poised at my entrance. I bit my lip, trying to control my body’s urge to open for him as he stroked his crown along my seam. I wanted to believe I could still say no to him, even as my body shifted from overwhelmed to excited at his restrained touch.

  Alexander pressed a kiss to my shoulder as he continued to persuade me with his perfect cock. I dropped my head back, losing myself momentarily to the temptation, and when I opened my eyes, I saw her.

  Pepper was frozen, watching us from an open balcony door. Our eyes met and I allowed a wicked smile to creep across my face. Her gaze stayed icy, but it was clear she couldn’t look away. I closed my eyes and lost myself to Alexander once more. He was mine and soon she would know that.

  “I need to feel you, X,” I murmured to him. “Your skin on mine.”

  The stroke of his cock stopped, although it stayed wedged against my sex. I relished the tiny pops as he unbuttoned his shirt, and a moment later, Alexander wrapped an arm around my torso. He brought my body into contact with his bare chest, only the thin lace of my dress lay between us, and I could feel his warmth radiating across my skin.

  “I want your cock. I want you to fill me,” I moaned loudly, melting into him, even as he bent me forward and entered me with a powerful thrust that drew a loud gasp from my lips.

  Alexander’s hand slid from my belly to my breast, plumping it through my dress and sending more moans to my lips as my nipple beaded in response. I felt Pepper’s eyes on us still, but I didn’t care. I was lost to Alexander—lost to his touch. In that moment, I belonged to him and I knew that when it came to his pleasure, the answer would always be yes.

  “I’m going to come inside your beautiful cunt.” A groan punctuated his words, and my core clenched, tightening around his cock like a coiled wire. “Christ, you’re milking me. You want me inside you, don’t you? You want me to pour inside your cunt, because you know it’s mine.”

  “Only you,” I gasped as my limbs tightened.

  “Only you,” he repeated. His words flooded through me, and a thready cry escaped me as I felt the hot lash of his seed. I shattered into a million pieces that rained over me, drenching my body with pleasure that soaked into my blood.

  It was too much and my knees buckled. Alexander caught me, sweeping me into his arms and cradling me against his bare chest as he carried me into the house. My eyes flickered to our audience, but she was gone. She’d gotten the message.

  I sighed with relief, resting my head against Alexander’s shoulder and breathing him in. I belonged to him, but he was mine.

  The room was spartan, save for a bookshelf and a few framed pictures on the desk. I did my best not to gawk at the family photos of Alexander with his mother and sister. Alexander watched me as I looked at one of the portraits.

  “She was beautiful,” I murmured as I studied the photo of Sarah on her horse.

  He nodded stiffly. “She loved to ride horses.”

  “What happened?” I asked in a soft voice. There were still walls standing between us, and more than ever, I understood how much we needed to tear them down.

  “Clara, I honestly wish I knew.” He spoke sincerely, and my heart ached for his loss and his confusion. The guilt had broken him but facing it might allow him to finally heal. “I remember flashes. That’s why I continued to invite Pepper to events.”

  He told me this with some hesitation, so I forced an encouraging smile onto my face. As much as I hated Pepper, I’d track her down myself if she could give him the answers he needed to move past the accident.

  “I was drinking and my sister showed up. She was underage, and I yelled at her for being at a bar.” He struggled to remember, and I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “For some reason we left. I don’t remember much after that. And what I do remember, I can’t burden you with.”

  “Nothing between us, X. No secrets.”

  “I remember how slippery her blood was on my fingers. She sagged like a rag doll. I remember the heat of the fire as it blazed across my skin, but I couldn’t leave her there, even though I couldn’t carry her.” His eyes had grown distant, fading to another place and time. “I was so scared that I didn’t even feel the frame of the door in my side. I’d been impaled, but I wouldn’t leave her, so we burned together.”

  I choked back a sob and nodded, trying to stay strong for him even as my imagination painted a gruesome picture for me. “And Pepper?”

  “She’d been flung from the car. Broken bones,” he said. “If she remembers more than me, she’s never admitted it.”

  “X, what happened was horrible.” I brushed back an inky strand of hair from his forehead. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Why don’t you see the monster when you look at me?” he asked. “Everyone else does.”

  “They don’t see you like I do.” My words were faint as I gathered my courage. “They don’t love you like I—”

  “I’m sorry,” Alexander interrupted my confession. “I just need a minute.” He staggered to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

  You scared him away, my critical side admonished me. I pushed the thought away, refusing to believe it. If Alexander said he needed a minute, I would give it to him.

  I didn’t go after him. He would come back out, and I needed time to digest what he’d told me. The physical details of the accident were public knowledge. But why couldn’t he remember anything?

  A knock on the door pulled me away from my thoughts, and I opened it
with some trepidation. Albert’s eyebrow raised when he saw me, and I knew what he was thinking.

  I bowed my head to him as he entered. Albert paced the perimeter of the room, pausing to pick up the photograph of his wife and young daughter. Taking a deep breath, I moved closer to see this one. Elisabeta’s Grecian beauty was even more pronounced in the personal snapshot, her dark waves whipping across her glowing skin as she hugged a young Sarah to her chest. Sarah was a miniature version of her mother but with pigtails and dimpled cheeks. Somehow the photo had managed to capture them so vibrantly that when I looked at it I felt as though I had known them.

  Of course, in a way, I had through Alexander. They lived in his memory, and I had faith that one day they would no longer haunt him. Instead, he would remember only the good times. That’s why it was so important to help him find the answers he needed.

  “Elisabeta was an ideal royal wife,” Albert said, running his hand along the edge of the polished frame. “She was modest, loyal, and above all: deferential.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep my thoughts about this to myself. I’d seen how Albert treated his sons. I could only imagine how he treated his wife. Had she deferred to him to keep the peace? Or had she been trained to submit entirely to her husband?

  “Many people believed our marriage was arranged for us, but it wasn’t,” he continued. “Her family sought asylum here when Greece exiled their monarchy. She was thrown into my circles, and to be honest with you, I fell in love with her the first day we met.”

  I wasn’t certain why he was sharing this with me, but I nodded encouragingly.

  “My wife was brought up amongst the aristocracy. She knew what to expect. She knew her role.” He placed the frame back on the desk and turned to meet my eyes. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  “Your wife was groomed to be Queen,” I said softly, but I couldn’t bring myself to add the rest of his message. I was not.

  “I hope you see that this isn’t a personal vendetta against you, Miss Bishop. I could even sanction a relationship between you and Edward, but it’s my duty to look out for the interests of the monarchy.” His words were crisp—clean and concise—but they still sliced through me, cutting me to my very soul. I bit back a gasp of anguish.