The Royals: Alexander and Clara: Volume One (The Royals Saga)

Home > Other > The Royals: Alexander and Clara: Volume One (The Royals Saga) > Page 17
The Royals: Alexander and Clara: Volume One (The Royals Saga) Page 17

by Geneva Lee


  “So am I. Sorry that you’re about to get dumped,” she said with a smirk, tossing her blond waves over her shoulder. “Don’t look so surprised. I could smell sex on you the second we met. Do you think Alexander is the kind that keeps girls around for second helpings? Where is he anyway? Or did he already drop you like the rubbish you are?”

  My hands clenched at my side, forming fists that I was dying to use even as I fought the urge. “Alexander isn’t the one calling the shots here, and don’t concern yourself with our sex life. We’re both very fulfilled.”

  My rage simmered as I neared my boiling point, and I wasn’t sure how long I could contain it. In the last ten minutes, I’d been called a slut, a tart, and now trash.

  “All of England is concerned with your sex life,” she said. “Tell me,” she lowered her voice, a wicked gleam in her eyes, “did you give them that story? Did you sell those texts to make a buck or two while you can?”

  I didn’t need money or fame or influence. A fact which was obviously lost on her. Pepper might have ties to the Royal Family, but from the way she was pouting over her dress, she didn’t have my trust fund. What would be the point of showing her up? Now I understood Belle’s look earlier. She’d been warning me. Trust Belle to spot a snake in the grass a mile away when I had to step on its tail and get bitten first.

  “If you’re done,” I said, shoving past her, “I was leaving.”

  “Running away?” she asked in a mocking voice. “Make sure you drop your glass slipper on the way out, but don’t count on Alexander coming to find you.”

  I swallowed on that and shot back. “I don’t want him to.”

  And I didn’t. This wasn’t a fairytale and Alexander was no Prince Charming. More than ever, I wanted to go home and transform back into simple, loner Clara. I didn’t bother looking for Belle. All I wanted to do was get out of there, but Pepper’s words lodged in my brain. This was the end of my story. There’d be time to cry about it later. For now, I just wanted to escape.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The marble columns of the ballroom loomed over me like the bars of a cage, and the crowd of partygoers crushed against me. Panic overtook me, and I struggled toward the entrance. Turning one last time to look for Alexander, I caught Pepper watching me. She raised her drink in farewell, not bothering to hide her smug smile of satisfaction. Ignoring her, my gaze swept the room for Alexander, but he was lost in the crowd, and I didn’t want to search him out. I wanted to get away from here as quickly as possible. I grabbed my clutch from our table, thinking I might catch a cab, but as soon as I was outside, I decided to walk. I needed to clear my head.

  The spring air was cool on my skin, which felt feverish and flushed after my confrontation with Pepper. Just the thought of her made my fingers curl tightly over my embellished clutch, so tightly that the beads dug painfully into my flesh. The pain actually felt good after feeling totally numb for the last ten minutes.

  What was I thinking? I’d learned to avoid people like that after watching my parents be burned many times by so-called friends. What was the point of friends who tore you down or competed with you? I’d done a fantastic job of being my own worst enemy for long enough. I really didn’t need any help.

  This whole night had been a mistake. Not because I felt inferior to Alexander’s family and friends, but because I had no interest in playing into their delusions. Part of me wanted to go back and tell them what I really thought of them, but I resisted the urge. There was no cure for being an asshole.

  By the time I got back to the flat, my feet ached from the effort of hiking halfway across London in four-inch Jimmy Choos. Aunt Jane’s flat was dark when I entered, which was just as well, because I didn’t really feel like talking. Rather, I felt like I should talk, a throwback reaction from my therapy days. But I was more than happy not to. Slipping off my heels, I took the stairwell up the three flights to our floor, rummaging through my purse for my keys as I came around the corner.

  “Clara.”

  I jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping my shoes. But my momentary surprise quickly shifted to white-hot awareness. Taking a deep breath, I cursed my traitorous body for its reaction to Alexander’s presence.

  “Where have you been?” Alexander demanded, cornering me against the door as I neared him. His tuxedo jacket was gone and the sleeves of his button-down were rolled up. If Alexander in a tuxedo was impossibly sexy, Alexander half out of a tuxedo was devastating. A pang of longing shot through me, but I resisted the impulse to touch him, knowing what would happen if I did. Anger flickered in his cobalt eyes, and I felt barely controlled rage seething from him like steam from boiling water.

  “Walking,” I said, too tired for playing games or being witty.

  “You leave without a word and then you walk home?” Alexander ran a hand through his black hair, and I noticed that it was already mussed, as though he’d done this a lot this evening.

  “You pushed me away,” I whispered, but my words weren’t timid. I wanted him to hear me. I wanted him to stop and listen, so that he would know that I hadn’t run tonight. “I didn’t run. I made the choice to leave.”

  “You came with me. I expected you to leave with me. I need to know where you are. That’s not a request, Clara,” he barked.

  I stared at him, waiting to see if he even heard what he was saying, but from the smoldering look he gave me, he did. “I’m not a child. I can take care of myself,” I said.

  “That was before,” Alexander said, stepping close enough that his heat surged across my skin. “You made a choice, Clara, and when you did that I assumed the responsibility of taking care of you.”

  How could he be so dense and infuriating and sexy at the same time? Was it a trick of evolution: the ability to distract a girl with charm while you were being a total asshole? “I didn’t ask you to do that!”

  “No, you didn’t. But you chose to come into my bed. You chose to stand by my side this evening.”

  If he thought that was going to be the extent of my choices, he had a big surprise coming. “Yeah, but we’re not married or anything—”

  “What message do you think it sends for me to bring a date to my father’s birthday?” he interrupted me.

  My breath hitched in my throat, caught on the lump rapidly forming there. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry or shake him. Possibly both. “We barely know each other.”

  “That might be true,” he conceded, “but we’ve been linked publicly, and after those texts were published today, people are going to make assumptions.”

  Between all the drama of Alexander showing up on my first day of work to the shit-storm that was this evening, I’d managed to forget about the hacked text messages. Adding that to the rest of today’s events was too much to bear and I snapped, “What kind of assumptions? I really don’t give a fuck what people who read TMI think of me!”

  Alexander’s head tilted, a glimmer of sympathy mixing with his anger. “It won’t just be TMI’s leak for long. There will be more legitimate news sources reporting on it. I live in the public eye, Clara.”

  The implication was clear. Alexander lived in the public eye, but I didn’t have to. He was offering me a choice: one I thought I’d already made. He was giving me a second chance to walk away. But that didn’t explain his actions tonight. “Why?” I asked in an effort to understand. “Why did you bring me tonight? You knew that assumptions would be made. It’s hardly the first time you’ve been caught with your pants down. Why give them more to gossip about?”

  I couldn’t understand why he’d draw more attention to a relationship that was already tabloid fodder. Surely that would only make things worse, and he had to know that.

  “Because I want to protect you.” Alexander’s voice broke, and when his eyes met mine, the intensity of his gaze pierced through me, drawing a gasp from my lips. “I need to protect you. I can’t explain it, because I don’t understand it. Maybe it’s a compulsion.”

  “Compulsions genera
lly aren’t healthy,” I whispered, barely able to produce words after his confession. The look he gave me—it shattered me. And in the moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t care that we’d been lying to ourselves about what was happening between us. I didn’t care that my heart lay in a thousand pieces at his feet, because I couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering that pain alone.

  Alexander stroked the back of his hand down my cheek longingly. “This compulsion is. You can push me away, Clara, and I’ll still devote myself to protecting you.”

  Emotions surged through me, flooding through my twisted perception of our relationship and washing it away. I had no words to drown the anguish reflected in his eyes. None that could reach the broken parts of him that I glimpsed. There was only one way to show him how I felt and only one way to free him from his demons. I crashed into him, my lips locking against his with brutal need as we collided. Alexander responded with hunger, lifting me off my feet and slamming against the wall in the process. He pivoted, still kissing me, and pressed me against the brick. Lowering me to my feet, he dropped to his knees and pushed up the flowing skirt of my gown. Alexander held it against my belly, leaving me exposed from the waist down.

  “Spread your legs, poppet.” Alexander held me firmly to the wall as he trailed kisses up my bare thighs. He took his time, sliding his lips along the sensitive flesh devotedly. His tongue licked softly down the hollow where my leg and cleft met. My hands tangled in his hair, clutching him to me as his kisses moved inward.

  “I’m going to fuck you with my mouth, and I want to hear you come. I want you to let go,” he growled, and I whimpered, already powerless to his demands. Alexander pushed my legs wider and thrust his tongue inside me, fucking me with powerful strokes. As pleasure welled in my core, tightening my limbs in anticipation, he pulled back only to close his mouth over my throbbing clit. Sucking it hungrily, his hand stroked my thigh but went no further. I longed for the feel of him inside me. His hands. His tongue. His cock. I was empty and only he could fill me.

  “I…I need you inside me,” I gasped as a tremor of ecstasy rippled through my body.

  But Alexander didn’t stop, instead the hand on my stomach pressed me harder to the wall. His tongue stroked across my sensitive clit again and then dipped lower, spearing me once more and pushing me to the brink. I unraveled, moans spilling wantonly from my mouth, as his tongue plunged inside me with relentless passion.

  Without a word, Alexander stood and took my clutch. Sagging against the wall, unable to form words, I released it to him, and a moment later, the door to my flat swung open. He scooped me into his arms, carrying me over the threshold as his mouth found mine, kissing me even as I fought to form coherent thoughts. He’d never been inside. Should I point him in the direction of my bedroom or opt for whatever flat surface he found first?

  Alexander answered for me, laying me across the kitchen counter.

  “You are so fucking beautiful.” The low rasp of his voice sent a shiver over my skin.

  And I believed him, feeling his desire for me as acutely as I felt my own. “Wait.”

  He stepped back, his gaze skimming my body, his eyes hooded by lust. I pushed up and dropped to my feet, standing with shaky legs before him. My fingers fumbled for the zipper of my gown as he unbuttoned his pants. When I found it, I tugged the zipper down and let the dress fall away. A growl rumbled from Alexander and he advanced on me, lifting my ass from the ground and carrying me to the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist and rubbed my aching sex against him. With my heels, I pushed his pants down to his ankles. He stepped out of them, kicking them to the side as I rocked against his liberated cock.

  “Slowly,” Alexander ordered, gripping my hips as he positioned his chiseled body between them. “Now, poppet.”

  I lowered onto his cock carefully, feeling the pleasant strain as my body welcomed the substantial girth of his shaft. I bucked against him, impatience winning out over restraint, but his hands clutched my hips in warning.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he cautioned.

  My fingers slipped into his hair, knitting through it and tugging slightly. “I thought you liked that,” I whispered.

  His eyes flashed to mine, and I saw my face and the offer written across it reflected in his clear blue irises.

  “Tread carefully, Clara.” He dropped his forehead against mine, his eyes clenched shut as if he were struggling to control himself. My own breathing became shallow, my resolve resting on the tip of a knife. I wanted Alexander. I wanted all of him, even his dark side. Even if my desire scared me.

  Alexander didn’t open his eyes but he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. Pulling back, he pushed farther inside me until I sheathed him to the root. “This is enough.”

  His words were strained, but when he looked at me, he smiled. We stayed like that for a long moment, relishing the delicious sensation of joined flesh.

  This could be enough, I thought as he held me. For now. But he needed more than this, and he needed me to give in to his darkness.

  “Clara,” Alexander whispered, “stop thinking.”

  “I—”

  He stopped me with a kiss. “Be with me. Feel me.”

  Alexander shifted his weight, crushing me against the wall as he began to thrust, and I lost myself to him. My fingernails sank into his shoulders, anchoring me as he drove his cock savagely inside me. A cry escaped my lips as I swelled around him, pleasure taking root and traveling slowly through my body until the dam burst and my orgasm surged violently from my core, spreading to my limbs. “Alexander!”

  He came at the cry of his name, pumping his thick cum into me.

  I collapsed against him, his cock still twitching as my sensitive walls pulsed around him. Alexander’s arms cradled me against him as he carried me from the kitchen into the hallway. He paused there and I managed a weak, “Right.” He gently laid me on the bed as though I were fragile, then stripped off his tuxedo shirt and climbed in next to me with his undershirt on.

  “About the party—” he began.

  I held up a hand, unwilling to let talk of this evening’s tension spoil a perfect moment. “Don’t worry about it. We both knew they weren’t going to like me.”

  “They shouldn’t have been so rude.” Alexander’s eyes narrowed at the memory.

  My mind groped for something positive to takeaway from our disastrous evening. “Edward was nice.”

  “Yeah. Edward understands what its like to be an outsider…”

  Alexander trailed away as if there were a lot more to this statement, but I didn’t press him for it. Right now, I wanted to focus on the beautiful man in bed with me, not the drama that accompanied being with him. But being with Alexander meant certain sacrifices.

  I couldn’t pretend to like or understand his life. He’d hinted at what was expected of him, and my heart hurt for the pain his lack of choices caused him. Whatever had torn his family apart haunted him. I could see its ghost in his eyes. I couldn’t deny that I wished he would share it with me, but I knew pushing him to do so would only drive him away. Maybe the only way for him to find peace was to face his demons.

  “I’m home safe, and you’ve damn near screwed me to sleep,” I told him. “You should go back to your father’s party.”

  “I don’t want to go back to the party.”

  “X, it’s your father’s birthday,” I pointed out.

  “Exactly, and he has hundreds of people there to kiss his ass,” Alexander said. “He won’t even miss me.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Alexander shook his head. “You’re right. He might miss me if he needs someone to yell at.”

  “I’m just going to go to bed,” I told him, stretching my arms over my head as I unsuccessfully attempted to stifle a yawn.

  “I want to go to bed with you,” Alexander said, propping himself up on an elbow and brushing a kiss across my shoulder. He was impossibly beautiful. “Earlier wasn’t enough for me. I have things to do to your body.” />
  “This body,” I yawned, “needs to rest. I have no idea how you’ve got that much stamina. It shouldn’t be physically possible.”

  “We can sleep,” he offered, and I froze.

  “You want to sleep here?” I asked slowly.

  Alexander frowned, brushing hair from my face. “Is that not okay?”

  It was more than okay. Inside my chest, a dozen celebratory fireworks burst through me. But I couldn’t exactly reveal my excitement and risk him pulling away again. The request was just so…normal that I wasn’t certain how to process it. “Sure. Of course, it’s okay.”

  Alexander pulled me to him, curving his body protectively around mine, as he cradled me to his chest. His lips nuzzled my ear, saying more with the show of silent affection than words could. A mix of emotions swirled through me, bringing tears to my eyes one moment and then forcing me to bite back laughter the next. How had we gotten here? I had no idea. All I knew was that I wanted to stay in his arms. No matter the cost.

  “Alexander,” I said his name softly, knowing I was treading into dangerous territory. “Earlier when you said you didn’t want to hurt me…”

  He stilled behind me, drawing in a ragged breath as I searched for the right words.

  “I had my reasons for saying no before,” I said finally. “But—”

  “There’s nothing more to say, Clara. You don’t owe me,” he said in a measured tone. “I don’t need that.”

  But I knew he was lying. I saw it in his eyes, his desire to dominate me. I sensed how he fought his need to control my body when he fucked me. “What do you need then?”

  “You,” he said after a moment. “Sleep, poppet. All I need is you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  His screams woke me, yanking me from my sleep like a fire alarm. Flipping on my bedside lamp, I discovered him curled in a ball beside me, clutching a pillow so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. I stared, trying to decide what to do. It wasn’t safe to wake a sleepwalker, but this was clearly a nightmare, and I couldn’t ignore his cries that clawed painfully from his lips.

 

‹ Prev