by Geneva Lee
So he controlled fear for me. He protected me from myself. Or, at least, he controlled what I knew. Sometimes I suspected he still wanted me to fear him. He’d tried hard to sabotage our relationship early on. I swallowed and held his gaze unwaveringly even as the tips of his fingers brushed across the lace of my panties. I was soaked through, wildly turned on despite my confusion, and his eyelids hooded as he felt my wetness.
“Are you ready to order?”
My own dreamy eyes popped open when I realized we’d been joined by the waiter, but Alexander’s face remained impassive as he looked over the menu, his hand staying, decidedly, in place between my legs.
“I’d like the lamb shank and the fennel salad,” he answered smoothly as he pushed the lace to the side and thrust a finger past my folds. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to keep a moan of pleasure from spilling out as he continued with his order. No one would guess from his casual demeanor that he was expertly fucking me with his hand under the table.
“And for mademoiselle?” The waiter shifted his attention to me.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. I didn’t dare look up. I didn’t dare move. If I opened my mouth now, I wouldn’t be able to keep up the pretense of normalcy. I clung to my last thread of self-restraint, hanging in an ecstatic limbo. The thought of being caught—the mere idea that the stranger in front of me might suspect what was happening—held me in check while heightening every brush. Every caress.
“She’ll have the same,” Alexander said, coming to my rescue, his thumb massaging a teasing circle over my aching clit. He held out the menu, and as the waiter accepted, Alexander slipped two fingers inside me. I forced a polite, if strained, smile onto my face as the waiter took his leave. As soon as he was gone, I pressed my face into Alexander’s broad shoulder, biting into the bone and muscle in an attempt to control my pleasure.
“This is how it will be with us,” he spoke huskily, his voice rich with restrained lust. “Whatever I ask of you, whatever I assume is best for you, you will comply. I live for two things, Clara, to give you pleasure and to protect you. I won’t restrain myself in either regard. Do you understand that? Nod, Poppet.”
His fingers curled inside me, massaging my g-spot. It was impossible to find my voice, but I could nod.
And I did.
My body belonged to him.
I belonged to him.
“And now you will come for me,” he commanded in a whisper. “I want to feel your teeth in my skin as you try not to scream. Leave your mark on me as I claim you right here in front of all of these people.”
My mouth clamped down to stifle the rapturous sob his dominance provoked within me. I couldn’t deny Alexander’s hold over me any more than I could deny myself air. He infuriated me, but that anger only stirred my desire for him more. He knew that. He knew that he owned me.
Chapter Three
“Why is Hugh Grant always so charmingly stupid in movies?” Edward asked as he rounded the corner with a bowl of popcorn. He sank onto the guest bed next to me and turned his attention back to the television.
I scooped a handful from the bowl and popped a few kernels in my mouth. “It’s for all the dreadful Americans.”
“Does that work on you?” he asked with a chuckle. His bright eyes danced with laughter. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
Belle’s head swiveled around to stare him down, eyebrow already crooked. “You’re taken,” she reminded him. “Don’t make me text David.”
“Where is he anyway?” I asked.
“Now, now. Need I remind you that as Prince of England I have to deal with all sorts of dreadful Americans?” Edward held a hand up in surrender, and then pointed to me. “Especially this one. I’ll take whatever help I can get.”
“You’re avoiding the question,” Belle accused, a knowing smile stealing across her full lips.
“I resent that.” Edward shook his head. For a moment he looked just like a younger version of Alexander—handsome and defensive. His eyes darted downward, displaying the curly black mop that he kept stylishly coiffed. Suddenly the popcorn was much more interesting than the cute British guy on the television. Something was definitely up.
Belle sat up, completely obstructing the view, and turned to face us. “Spill, Your Highness. You’re jumpier than a prostitute in church.”
“You’re blocking the best scene,” he said, craning to see past her. “I like the idea of the Prime Minister dancing through Downing Street.”
“Well, I hate to ruin it for you but the Prime Minister isn’t nearly as cute as Hugh Grant. Now stop avoiding the question. You called us for a girls’ night,” I reminded him. “So out with it.”
Truthfully his timing couldn’t have been better. With Alexander out of town, I’d made up an excuse to crash at my parents’ the night before. It hadn’t been my proudest moment as an adult, but I wasn’t prepared to sleep here alone even with Norris keeping watch. Alexander would be back tomorrow, and a girls’ night seemed like exactly what I needed to clear my head.
“As if I’m the only one keeping secrets.” Edward pushed his horn-rim glasses to the of his nose and stared me down. “You’re in your own world.”
“I’m getting married in a few weeks!”
“Am I the only one without trouble in paradise?” Belle asked, not buying my excuse either.
“Trouble?” Both Edward and I repeated at the same time.
“Clearly, I’m misreading you both,” Belle said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She twisted a string of honey blonde hair around her finger and narrowed her eyes. With her high cheekbones and elegant bearing, she looked graceful even in her pajamas. “Don’t make me turn this television off.”
Sighing, I slumped back against the upholstered headboard. If Alexander believed it wasn’t worth it to make me worry about Daniel, it definitely wasn’t worth making Belle and Edward worry about him. Still I didn’t particularly like the idea of lying to my best friends, especially since it seemed to prove Alexander had a point when he’d chosen to keep this information from me. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing on my mind. “Alexander is going to be traveling more and more. My mom is on me about wedding stuff every waking minute. And I’m officially unemployed as of this morning.”
“You’ll have plenty to keep you busy soon,” Edward said in a soft voice.
“Exactly.” I grabbed a nearby pillow and hugged it to my chest. “It’s not like Alexander makes becoming a Royal sound appealing.”
“It’s not like he has any other choice,” Belle jumped in. “And neither do you if you want to marry him.”
Edward and I shared a look. Apparently I wasn’t the only one thinking about this.
“What was that?” Belle demanded.
I hesitated, unable to voice the possibility, so Edward told her for me, “He could renounce the throne.”
“Would he really consider doing that?” she asked. “I can’t imagine he would now if he hasn’t already.”
“I don’t know,” I lied. I was positive Alexander wanted nothing more than to dismantle the monarchy piece by piece, but his position afforded him access to private security and the funds to pay them. He was doing it for me. “I’m not sure I know anything anymore. If I think everything’s fine, I find out it’s all a lie. Everyone thinks I’m living a fairy tale!”
Edward wrapped an arm around my shoulder. He flashed a look at Belle. “I told you we should have gotten more wine.”
“It doesn’t go with popcorn anyway,” I mumbled, rubbing my belly. The whole situation was making me sick. I’d had a perpetual stomachache since I’d found that rose Monday morning. “I think he’s also worried that if he renounces, he can’t protect me. He’s been a little manic since Daniel’s attack.”
“That’s just stupid. He renounces and you two could move wherever you wanted, shag like rabbits, and make lots of beautiful babies.”
The air was knocked from my lungs and I gasped. Recovering, I shoved some popcorn in my mou
th. Apparently girls’ night was going to be full of conversational land mines.
Both Belle and Edward fell silent, obviously sensing that they’d hit on a touchy topic.
“We’re not going to have babies,” I blurted out past the raw ache in my throat. “I don’t even want to have babies, so it’s not a big deal.”
“Who would?” Edward said conspiratorially, trying to make me laugh. “Stinking nappies and getting woken up in the middle of the night.”
“Stretch marks,” Belle added.
I forced a small but grateful smile out and rubbed the back of my eyes with my sleeve. “I have no clue where that came from. I really never thought about having children, and suddenly, it’s off the table and bam! Instant blubbery mess.”
“Did you find out...” Belle searched for the right words, thought better of it and gave me a meaningful look instead. She’d been there over a year ago when I’d thought I might be pregnant. I’d been suffering from malnourishment, but she knew that I’d purposely avoided getting answers from my doctor.
“Nah.” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Alexander doesn’t want kids.”
“Father’s going to love that,” Edward said in a flat voice.
“I suppose it’s up to you to carry on the monarchy.”
He laughed hollowly. “Then the monarchy might be doomed.”
“Look at us.” I leaned into him. “Sitting here, slowly destroying a thousand years of tradition.”
“Just another Saturday night.”
“I feel like I’m not doing my part,” Belle said with a fake pout.
“We might need backup,” I said purposefully.
“I’m good for that,” she promised. She lifted a slender finger and pointed at Edward. “Now, how are you destroying the monarchy?”
“You mean other than being gay as a picnic basket?” He hesitated, his eyes darting from Belle over to me. “I’m thinking of asking David to marry me.”
“You wanker!” Belle’s still pointed finger stabbed the air violently. “You’ve been sitting here keeping that to yourself the whole night!”
Genuine laughter bubbled through me and spilled over. “Wanker?”
“Well, if you think it was hard for the lovely, demure Clara to win over my father, imagine poor David.” There was a bitter edge to his laughter. “A black, gay commoner!”
My joy curdled at the mention of Edward’s father. It seemed the only duty he felt to his children was to ruin their lives. It was hard to imagine a parent could be so intentionally cruel, but he hadn’t minced words regarding my relationship with Alexander. His behavior had been somewhat more reserved in the past few months, but there was no doubting how he truly felt about his sons’ partners. He shared the same blue eyes with both of his sons, but his always glinted of disappointment. “Who cares?”
“Oh, are we all renouncing the throne?” Edward asked. “It’s going to be a brilliant year for jolly old England.”
“Who cares if your father supports your marriage?” I continued, ignoring him. “What matters is the commitment you two make to each other. You don’t need anyone’s approval to decide to love someone, and you certainly don’t need it to choose to spend the rest of your life with them.”
The room fell silent and I felt a little silly for letting my passion get the better of me, but then Belle lunged, squeezing between us.
“You do realize that this means we’re all getting married this year!”
Edward snorted at this point of fact. “Do you honestly think I can plan a wedding in less than a year?”
But he couldn’t keep a sheepish smile off his face.
In no time, we’d completely abandoned watching the movie in favor of discussing proposal ideas. We talked so late that Belle curled into a ball and fell asleep between us.
“It will be hard to top Alexander’s,” Edward whispered, trying not to wake her.
“Alexander’s proposal was a challenge,” I said, remembering the over-the-top event he had staged at the London Eye. It had been thrilling and overwhelming, and although I’d said yes, his private proposal later that same evening was the moment I’d truly said yes.
Edward shook his head. “It was a message that he chose you. I want David to feel that. I want him to know that I’ve chosen him the moment I ask him.”
“He will,” I promised him softly.
He sucked in a long breath. “Want to shop for rings tomorrow?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said, smiling widely.
“Clara.” Edward paused, the boyish exuberance slipping from his face as he reached over and took my hand. “I know things are uncertain right now, but I want you to know that I’m glad you’re going to be my sister.”
I squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
Between us, Belle rolled over and began to snore.
“We should take a video of this,” Edward suggested.
“We should,” I agreed, “but we won’t because we’re her best friends. We’ll just tease her mercilessly about it in the morning.”
Edward shot me a bittersweet smile.
“What’s that about?” I asked.
“I’m just happy that I’m getting a sister.”
“And I’m getting a brother.”
“Hardly seems like a fair exchange.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” I stuck my tongue out at him for good measure. There were a lot of things that scared me about marrying Alexander, but gaining Edward as family was definitely on the pro list. “I love Belle, but I can’t sleep with this racket.”
Edward scooted down in the bed, laughing. “David says I could sleep through a hurricane.”
“Night.” I bent down and pecked him on the cheek. “Tomorrow we go ring shopping.”
He grinned sleepily. “What would you dreadful Americans say? ‘Hell yes?’”
“Hell yes!” I giggled. It really was going to be like having a kid brother.
I crossed to my empty bedroom and was halfway inside when I realized the lights were on in the kitchen. Yawning, I ambled down the stairs, tugging at the pair of boxers I’d stolen from Alexander’s drawer, hoping whoever was on duty out front wouldn’t look in and see me.
The click of a cabinet stopped me dead in my tracks. I was torn between running upstairs to Belle and Edward, heading for the front door, or grabbing an umbrella from the stand by the door. I thought of being followed, of the constant security, of the lies that kept stacking up between Alexander and me. I was tired of running. My fingers closed over the umbrella handle and I pulled it slowly from the rack.
I took a deep breath and rounded the corner.
“Expecting rain?” Alexander’s mouth pressed into a thin line as he tried to hide his amusement.
“What are you doing home?” I dropped the umbrella and ran to him. His arms folded around me, and I drew back to drink him in.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, his voice taking on a husky tone that sent a flutter of expectation throbbing through me.
I fiddled with the tie that hung loose at his neck and shook my head playfully. “It’s only been one night.”
“Are you sure, Poppet? You’re wearing my pants.” He ran his index finger along the band of elastic that hung loosely on my hips. “Turn around and let me see. Slowly.”
I pivoted obediently. His watchful gaze burned through me, igniting a flame deep within my belly. I had missed him, and my starved body reacted with throbbing pangs of hunger. My legs clamped shut as I tried to control my arousal. Alexander slid a hand between my thighs and urged them back apart, brushing across my sex as he did. Even the light touch, mostly obstructed by the now-soaked cotton that covered me, drew a gasp from me.
He hooked a finger in my waistband and drew me roughly against him. Sliding a hand under my tank top, his fingers circled my nipples, tugging and pinching them until they were almost painfully hard and I was panting. I pressed my ass back until his erection prodded against my soft backside—a silent sign
al of what I needed.
His lips moved against my ear, teeth catching and nipping its shell. “Now, did you miss me?”
Chapter Four
My pulse quickened, my breathing shifting to shallow puffs. I’d expected our time apart to provide some perspective away from his influence, but I’d spent it craving him instead. With everything changing, with my whole life in limbo, the only thing I could be certain of was him.
“Answer,” he prompted, squeezing my swollen breasts and drawing my thoughts away from the outside world. “Tell me that you missed me.”
I moaned a yes, barely able to find the word in my fervent state. I wanted to turn around—to kiss him—but I recognized the tone of his voice. Tonight he was in control, and my body knew that. It was what I wanted. I still refused to believe that I needed submission. It was a conscious choice to place myself completely in his hands. It was the only way it could be healthy for either of us. Still, knowing I would be at his mercy soon sent the sweetest pang echoing through me.
“If you will not speak, then you must show me,” he commanded. He released his hold on me and pressed his hands gently to my shoulders. There was no need for him to be rough—not yet.
I knelt, the cool hardness of the kitchen floor providing a jolt to my already frayed senses. Iciness traveled through my blood, spreading so rapidly that instead of shivering, I grew feverish.
Alexander circled me thoughtfully, pausing in front of me so that I could see the proof of his own arousal straining against his trousers. “We have guests?”
I nodded.
“Is that why you’re being quiet?” A smirk played at his shapely lips, and I thought about running my tongue across them. I imagined them pressed between my legs. “Then we’ll make a game of it. If Clara wants to be quiet, she will be. But I won’t make that easy for you.”
It wasn’t so much that I wanted to be quiet or that I was worried about waking the others, it was that something about Alexander demanded it this evening. His dominant side had overtaken him just as the submissive side he’d uncovered in me longed to surrender. Part of me fought against it, still wounded from the information he’d kept from me.