by Geneva Lee
“No, my son”—he stood and glowered at me—“she won’t be.”
My jaw locked with the effort of restraining myself. “When will this punishment end?”
“That is up to you. I’m not punishing you, Alexander.”
“Like hell, you aren’t!” I roared.
“Expectations aren’t punishment,” he said with meaning. “The sooner you understand that, the better. You might think it’s acceptable to play house and stage elaborate public spectacles to undermine my authority, but I assure you that they will do nothing to affect my opinion of this situation. Your future is on the throne. You belong here. Until you understand that, I can’t condone your marriage—for the sake of the monarchy.”
“Sod the monarchy,” I growled.
He grimaced, glancing at me before turning his back and disappearing from the room.
Realization settled heavily over me. There was only one way to ensure the highest level of security for Clara. I stood and headed after him before I lost my nerve.
Rounding the corner of the morning room, I beckoned for a waiter. Swiping a champagne flute from his tray, I lifted it and called out over the crowd. “Pardon the interruption.”
A hush fell in ripples over the crowd as the guests turned their attention to me.
“Clara?” I said loudly. I needed to see her, needed to remember why I was doing this.
In the far corner, the room began to part—and then she appeared. Her smile was tentative as if she suspected I was up to something, but it gave me the final reassurance I needed.
“In a little over a month, Clara Bishop has agreed to become my wife. I can only assume because she has no clue what she’s getting into.” I paused, waiting for the guests’ laughter to quiet. “If she does know then I can only assume that, by some miracle, she thinks I’m worth the hassle.” This time I didn’t care about the laughter, I turned my full attention to her. “Thank you for your trust and for your love. I can only hope to prove that I deserve it. You haven’t made an easy choice.”
Her smile twisted at the corner in wry acknowledgment of the fact. Taking a deep breath, I looked back across the room. “I recently spoke to my father about the challenges marriage will bring. He reminded me that we can’t always predict the future, but we can choose who we face it with. If Clara and I face the changes the future brings together, I know we can meet any challenge.”
My eyes landed on my father. Even across the room I could see the tick in his jaw at how I’d twisted his words.
Wait for it, I thought. He was going to like this even less.
“So I’m thrilled to announce that the first of these many changes will be a change of residence.” I glanced briefly to Clara whose eyes widened.
I was going to pay for this later. Extending my hand to her, I waited for her to join me. She crossed the few final steps to reach me and took my hand uncertainly. I leaned in to kiss her cheek, turning my head quickly to whisper, “Do you trust me?”
Her fragile hand knit tightly through mine and squeezed.
“In a few weeks, we will officially take residence here. As some of you may know, I grew up here, and I’m pleased that Clarence House will be our first home as husband and wife.” I turned to Clara and took her hand. “And I hope that my fiancée likes her wedding present.”
Clara popped onto her tiptoes and gave me a quick kiss. Pulling back, her eyes questioned me, but she didn’t press me for answers. Not now. Instead she returned her attention to our guests, graciously accepting the sudden outpouring of congratulations. The crowd threatened to swallow her, but I kept my hand locked on hers, nodding politely at the well wishes directed at us.
It didn’t escape my attention that my father was not among the crowd. I’d made my move, sacrificing my pawn—my freedom—and moving ever closer to the grasp of the King.
Boxes were piled throughout the entryway of number 19. I blew out a frustrated sigh. It seemed impossible that in the short time we’d lived here we’d accumulated so much stuff.
Alexander had thrown me for a loop when he announced our move to Clarence House. Putting aside the fact it was actually a palace and not a house—something I couldn’t comprehend—it was furnished with objects I’d be afraid to touch let alone sit on.
The weeks had flown by in a blur of dress fittings and appointments, but somehow I’d managed to sort nearly all of our possessions in time for the movers to descend upon us this morning. Alexander had taken the morning off from his meetings to finalize tomorrow’s plans. I hadn’t questioned his decision, knowing that taking an official residence was inevitable.
That didn’t mean I was prepared for it.
Uncapping a marker, I listed off the contents of the box I’d finished packing. Most of these things were going into storage. It was silly to keep them, really—they were just going to collect dust. But I couldn’t bring myself to let them go either.
An arm slipped around my waist and I relaxed against Alexander’s firm body.
This was why I was doing this.
He was why.
Did anything else matter?
“I think we’re ready,” he said, his lips brushing the top of my head.
“Are we?” I whispered.
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts?” I heard the smile in his voice that I couldn’t see.
“Do you ever think about just running away? Buying a little cottage on the coast and growing old together?”
It was a wistful fantasy but Alexander tensed behind me. I’d hit a nerve without meaning to. Sighing, I twisted in his arms to face him.
“I know what I’m getting into,” I reassured him. He’d made it clear the night he’d proposed. We’d looked out over the glittering expanse of London and he’d warned me. That didn’t mean that part of me didn’t wish things couldn’t be different. Simpler.
“Do you?” he asked, his blue eyes searching mine for the answer to the unspoken question.
“I do.” I had known. I still knew. But I also knew what he really needed to hear. “I’m happy.”
“I wish I didn’t have to put you through all of this.” He kissed my forehead. “I wish we could run away and buy some rings. Disappear into that quiet life by the sea, but…”
“Where’s the challenge in that?” I asked.
“Something tells me you’ll always challenge me.” The crooked grin I’d fallen in love with carved across his lips, making my heart pound.
I smacked his chest, pretending to be offended.
“Do that again and I’ll have to spank you,” he warned me, a playful glint returning to his eyes.
“Promise?” I asked breathlessly.
“Actually”—he drew out the word—“I can’t help thinking of all the places we never christened.”
A giggle broke past my lips. “Like where, X?”
We looked around. Barring the mountains of boxes, I had very pleasant memories of most of the surfaces in this house—furniture, floors, and walls included.
Alexander gripped my hips and placed me on top of a couple of boxes. “Here.”
“That’s cheating—”
His lips cut me off. I melted against him, my arms braiding around his neck and drawing him closer. My fingers wove through his ink-black hair as his tongue slipped inside my mouth. I sucked it slowly, wanting more of him.
Needing all of him.
He broke away, his face staying close to mine, as we struggled to catch our breath. “I thought of somewhere, poppet.”
“Is this your way of buying yourself time?” I asked. “Kiss me until I forget what I was accusing you of.”
He smirked. “That depends. Did it work?”
I furrowed my brow thoughtfully, but before I could respond, he scooped me into his arms. Wrapping my legs around his trim waist, I relished the contact as our mouths found each other again. I wanted my mouth on him. I wanted to lick across the ridges and valleys of his abs. I wanted to kiss the scars that marked his beautiful body.<
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But most of all I wanted to be possessed.
And then I was weightless, landing on the sofa with a soft thump.
“Huh.” I ran a finger over the tufted back of it. He had actually managed to find a place we hadn’t made love. “Do you have some type of homing beacon for places you need to fuck me?”
“Poppet, you are the only thing on my radar.” He bit his lip, his gaze raking down my form like he was planning how best to devour me. “Now about all these clothes.”
He bent down and plucked open the button of my jeans. My ass lifted automatically as he slowly drew them over my hips.
“I love when I find your cunt naked.” He dropped my pants to the floor before placing a palm on the inside of my knee.
I dropped my legs open at the gentle command. The delicious sensation of being bared to him overtook me, building my desire into a frantic need. His eyes hooded as he rubbed the rigid outline of his cock. My hand slipped down to caress the slick, swollen mound between my legs. “You do this to me. When you claim me with your eyes, you make me want to fuck myself for you.”
“Show me,” he ordered. He abandoned his erection and hooked his shirt, drawing it over his head in one swift motion. His gaze didn’t waver as he unbuckled his trousers.
I drank in his body, something primal stirring within my core as I circled my finger over my clit. He awakened my darkness—my own sensual brutality—that captivated me. I was air and he was fire, consuming me until every inch of my body burned for him.
I couldn’t bear to look at him, overwhelmed by the raw power he radiated. Closing my eyes, I shuddered as my fingers danced across my throbbing clit.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
I shook my head, losing myself in the moment—and knowing exactly what would happen if I disobeyed. I wanted to drive him wild, drive him to the point where his careful control cracked and he claimed me.
“Sit up,” he growled as his hand pushed under my ass, knocking my fingers away from my trembling sex. He didn’t wait for me to comply, instead he adjusted me himself. Dropping to the couch, he stroked his cock, drawing a bead of creamy pre-cum to its tip. Before I thought about what I was doing, I’d bent to lick it off.
“Your mouth is so hot and wet,” he groaned as I swirled my tongue over his crown. My mouth moved to cover his shaft, but he held it back. “I can see how bad you want this, but you can’t tease me like that. Show me what’s mine and then take it away.”
I whimpered, my hips shifting with the weight of my arousal. I’d been so close and then he’d stopped me, left me to suffer the glorious agony of dissatisfaction.
“Stand up.”
I rocked onto the balls of my feet, my thighs pressing against the ache at my core. Alexander lay down, his fingers moving swiftly over his cock. I moved toward him, my cunt slick and ready to sheath him.
“Did I say you could have this?” he asked, drawing my attention to the object of my hunger. He dropped his hold on it, letting his cock fall heavily across his abdomen, the tip grazing the edge of his navel. He beckoned me with his index finger. “Come here.”
I stepped closer and he hooked an arm around my ass, dragging me to him. I stumbled forward as he guided my legs back onto the couch. But before he could snare me, I pivoted, dropping to my hands. My ass hovered over his face as I knelt over him. His hands kneaded into my hips, rolling me back until his tongue breached my sensitive seam. A moan cascaded from me as a ripple of pleasure shivered through me.
“I’m going to make you feel so good.” He coaxed two fingers inside me. His lips closed over my frayed bundle of nerves until they sang with near release. The heat of his mouth withdrew as his fingers pumped harder in and out of me. “This sweet cunt is mine.”
“Yours,” I gasped as he drove me toward the edge and backed away again.
My pleasure belonged to him. I was at his mercy. I longed to please him. Dipping forward, I grasped his cock in my hand and brought it to my mouth. His masculine scent flooded my nostrils, and all I could think of was sucking him until he was empty. Plunging my mouth over his shaft, I sucked him in a frenzied rhythm. I wanted to take him with me—wanted him to spill over my tongue as his mouth claimed me. I cupped his balls and squeezed gently, earning my mouth a hard thrust.
Alexander slammed my ass down on his face, devouring me as I hollowed my cheeks on his cock. But despite his impatience, his tongue circled and darted skillfully. Each movement precisely focused. Each stroke forging a trail of ecstasy.
His thumb dipped between my legs, coating its pad with my arousal, and then I felt it press against the pucker of my ass. I grunted as he pushed it past the tight coil of muscles. I was full, near my breaking point, made fragile by his total domination of my body.
I writhed against him, rocking hard against his fingers and tongue—wanting more, wanting him deeper. His arm hooked around my thigh, holding me captive to his assault as his other hand caught my engorged clit and pinched.
A scream ripped through my throat, and I choked against his cock. Tiny explosions quaked through my body, my orgasm erupting over him. I fought to keep my own over him as the first spurt hit the roof of my mouth. I swallowed against the streams, even as my body sagged, boneless, against him. When he finally stopped coming, I collapsed onto him, my hand still gripping his undiminished erection.
Alexander pressed a kiss against my inner thigh. His palm massaged my ass cheek, giving me a moment to rest before he shifted from under me. Kneeling on the cushions, he opened my legs and angled the head of his cock at my sensitive entrance.
“No,” I moaned. “I can’t. I can’t…”
“Shhh, poppet. You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
Brimstone. My safe word floated to mind. I hadn’t used it in months, even as his expectations of my body grew more demanding. Although I’d grown more fearless, he still continued to remind me that there was always a way to stop him.
I just never wanted him to stop.
He waited, and I moaned another no, even as my hips bucked closer, my sex flowering open despite the tremors still rippling through me. “That’s right. Spread for me.”
Alexander leaned over me, his strong arms bracketing my body as he sank inch by exquisite inch inside me. He moved slowly, sliding and retreating. My fingers clawed into his biceps, grasping for leverage, but he continued his leisurely pace. His gaze pierced through me as his hips rocked and circled me toward another release. I felt full—whole in a way only he could complete me.
My sex tightened and my head fell back as the pressure at my core mounted.
“Look at me,” Alexander said. “Keep your eyes open. I want to see what you’re thinking when you come.”
Our gazes locked and I fought the instinct to drift away. Sweat beaded over Alexander’s brow, his jaw constricting from the effort of restraining himself. “Just like that, poppet. You’re so fucking beautiful when you come. Show me how it makes you feel when I’m filling you. Show me you love me.”
He pressed deeper, his length massaging with patient strokes against the sensitive spot only he could reach. Bliss expanded through my limbs. I unfolded as I arched into him. I held nothing back, revealing everything.
I paused in the doorway of the bistro to scan the tables. I was late thanks to the discovery of two more places we’d never made love. I’d dressed in a rush, opting for a simple wrap dress and my favorite Louboutins. Favorite because I could stay upright in them despite the fact my legs were still shaky from this morning.
Edward waved to me from a table near the outdoor patio. Smiling at the maître d’, I pointed to my companion and continued. As I navigated the dining room, the murmurs of the patrons seemed to swell behind me. I shouldered my purse and did my best to ignore it.
“She makes an entrance wherever she goes.” Edward stood in greeting, waiting for me to take my seat.
“Don’t remind me,” I said, lowering my voice. “Apparently this is lunch and a show.”
&
nbsp; “You do eventually stop noticing,” he promised me.
I hoped he was right. For now, though, I decided to live in the moment. How often did I get to meet up with one of my favorite people for lunch?
Priorities, I told myself firmly.
We ordered quickly so we could focus on catching up. In the whirlwind of the last few weeks, I’d spent less time with Edward than I’d have liked.
“Dare I ask how the wedding is coming?”
“You just did.” I curled my lip.
“That well, huh? At least the world is ready.”
“I also have a countdown going,” I assured him. The thought of the number of media outlets currently guessing about everything from my dress to how I would wear my hair was mildly disturbing. Truthfully, even I didn’t even know what I was doing with my hair.
I didn’t care.
“One week,” we said together.
Saying it out loud sent a flutter of butterflies whirling through my belly. I rubbed it absently, wishing that I could control my anxiety a little better.
“Speaking of.” Edward reached into his pocket and drew out a black jewelry box.
“Oh! David’s ring?” I asked, grabbing for it.
He snorted. “That’s your ring.”
“Oh my God.” I gasped.
“You forgot!” Edward accused.
“I didn’t forget,” I hedged. “I simply put it on the back burner.”
“Anything else you want to sell me?” he asked.
“My head is in so many places I’m forgetting things left and right. Sometimes”—I dropped my voice—“I forget to go to the loo. I need to and then I forget halfway there and go to the next appointment.”
“One week,” he repeated soothingly.
“Hope for your brother’s sake that I don’t lose my mind before then,” I advised him as I pried open the jewelry box’s lid. My breath caught when I saw it. It was as simple as I remembered. Masculine without being flashy. But there was something about seeing it—about knowing what it represented—that knocked the wind out of me. Plucking it from the case, I turned it over in my palm. No beginning. No end. Just like us. My eyes landed on the delicate promise engraved on the interior band and my heart leapt.