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

by Geneva Lee

  “I want to look at you,” I whispered.

  “I don’t blame you,” he said with a smirk, “but right now, I need you to pay attention. Follow my lips with your eyes.” He stepped into the space between my body and the vanity, still holding my hand, and dropped to his knees. Taking my other hand, he guided my arms behind my back, forcing me to stand straighter and pushing my chest closer to his waiting lips. He tipped his head up, catching my nipple in his mouth. I did as I was told, watching his tongue swirl around the furled tip before he sucked it in between his teeth. My breasts swelled from his attention, growing full and heavy, as he tended to each of them in term. My body ached with building tension, as he leaned back on his heels and turned to the mirror. “It’s almost cliché to tell you that your tits are perfect, but they are. Full and supple. I can ever decide if I want to suck them or fuck them.”

  A whimper escaped my lips and his eyebrow crooked up. “Would you like that? Do you want me to shove my cock between your tits?”

  I nodded, lost to his erotic suggestions. The list of places I wouldn’t allow his cock had diminished to the point of nonexistence.

  “Later, poppet,” he promised, twisting back to trail his lips between the hollow of my breasts down to my navel. His tongue circled it as he pinned my wrists together in one hand, bringing his freed hand to stroke across the taut lines of my stomach. “Your body makes me so fucking hot, poppet. I think about it all the time, imagining how I’m going to fuck you. When we’re apart, all I can think of is getting my hands on you.”

  He reached to my hip and gripped it tightly, kneading it with strong fingers. “I can’t take my eyes off you when you walk. Do you sway your hips like that on purpose, knowing that I’m watching?”

  I shook my head. Usually, I didn’t. Then again something about Alexander stole my inhibitions. Maybe it was his dirty mouth or his sinful body, but his presence brought out a wanton side to my personality that I’d never suspected I had.

  “All I can think about is grabbing these hips and putting you over my knee,” he continued huskily, “or holding onto them as my cock pounds you. They curve so precisely into my hands. I swear your body is fucking proof of evolution.”

  I closed my eyes, picturing his body dominating mine. Frenetic energy pulsed through me, pooling where his skin made contact with mine.

  “Open your eyes, Clara,” he demanded. His hand lightly smacked my bare buttocks and my eyes flew open. He released my other hand and cupped both of my cheeks. “I’ll have to spend a whole day worshipping your ass. It’s a pity that you can’t see me do it, but I’ll be certain to describe every single thing I want to do to it. Everything I’m going to do to it.”

  Alexander’s hands slid from my rear to my thighs, and he urged them slowly open. Dropping lower, his face nestled against the tender inner flesh. “I suppose it would be too much to ask to be buried here?”

  A giggle slipped from my lips and he kissed the sensitive skin in response. “I’m serious, poppet. I want my lips down here, breathing you in. Your scent intoxicates me, you know. I want them clamping against my ears as I taste you. But I need them spreading open for me, circling around me as I fuck you.”

  Yes, please.

  “You know how I feel about this.” Alexander’s lips moved up, his words whispering across my swollen sex. “Your cunt was made for me. It’s so tight it just squeezes my cock when I’m inside of you, draining every drop from me. But you know that. You know you have a greedy cunt, don’t you? I want you to see. I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, so you can see how fucking beautiful you are when you come.”

  His tongue licked through the lace of my panties up the length of my seam, drawing hungry gasps from me. He pulled back. “Watch, poppet.”

  Plunging between my lips past my thong, he ran his tongue over my cleft, landing on my clit. He pushed my legs open wider, so that I could watch him in the mirror. It was too much, seeing him between my legs, watching as his tongue stroked and sucked, but I didn’t dare turn away. My hands tangled in his hair, holding me to him as my hips ground flagrantly against his mouth.

  My muscles contracted, tension tightening them, with each lash of his tongue. I watched as my eyes slanted dreamily and my teeth bit into my lower lip. My chest moved with shallow pants of anticipation as a film of sweat spread across my skin. I no longer wanted to turn away, I’d lost my reservations to Alexander’s meticulous mouth, and I bucked against his talented tongue.

  I was so close, but my body craved more. “I want to see your cock inside me.”

  Alexander’s hands tightened on my thighs, digging into my skin, adding the edge of pain to my pleasure, but he didn’t relent. Instead his tongue flicked powerfully against my clit before his mouth settled over it, sucking it into his hungry mouth.

  I forgot my request as I came undone, my eyes locked with the girl in the mirror. Her ecstasy mirrored mine—mouth wide, cries spilling from her lips as she unapologetically fucked Alexander’s mouth. Bliss washed over me, splintering over the brink, as I clutched his body to mine.

  “Had enough, poppet?” Alexander asked, kissing the hollow of my thigh.

  I shook my head, unable to speak, as I released him and caught myself on the vanity.

  Alexander rose and moved behind me, unbuckling his jeans as his eyes watched mine in the mirror. The crown of his cock stuck up over the band of his boxer briefs, and I licked my lips.

  “Do you want this?” His eyes hooded as he fisted his rigid shaft.

  I did, but I wanted more than that. Alexander had shown me that he wanted all of me. His desire wasn’t limited to my sex, and mine wasn’t limited to his either.

  “No,” I whispered, aware of the risk I was taking. “I want your body.”

  His image stilled behind me as he took in my words. “You don’t want that, Clara.”

  “There’s no part of my body you don’t want, right?” I waited for him to nod. He did so stiffly, but after his exhibition he could hardly deny it. “There’s no part of your body that I don’t want.”

  “Clara—” he began, but I shushed him.

  “I felt the scars. I know,” I spoke delicately, unsure how he would react to being reminded of that night. I could only trust my instinct. “And I want you. All of you, X. Your body—all of it—makes me so fucking hot.”

  A tenuous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as I repeated his own words back to him. He couldn’t argue with me, but uncertainty glimmered in his eyes. Alexander stepped out of his pants and kicked them toward the bathtub. His boxers followed, putting his magnificent cock on display. But my eyes were locked to his as his fingers gripped the hem of his t-shirt. I smiled reassuringly, and he drew it slowly up his torso, revealing the muscular slab he’d only recently allowed me to touch. I kept my face blank as the first scar came into view. Alexander hesitated, still watching me, as though any moment I might change my mind.

  “All of you, X,” I repeated.

  He tugged the shirt over his head, releasing a ragged breath as my gaze raked over his body. The scars snaked angrily across the left half of his ribs and up across his pecs. Raw and white, they’d faded some with time, but they were impossible to ignore. I stifled a shudder. I’d known it was a serious accident, but knowing and seeing proof were completely different things. It must have been a miracle that he survived, and yet the worst damage had been done to his soul.

  There was nothing standing between us now, and when Alexander’s hands grabbed my hips in a fierce hold, I parted my legs. I ached to feel him move inside me. I needed it. We needed it.

  “Take me,” I whispered, “and don’t be gentle.”

  His hand dropped out of sight and a moment later, his broad crown nudged inside me. Alexander pushed his cock cautiously into my cleft, pausing as I flowered over him. Then his hands were on my hips, forcing me down until I engulfed his thick shaft. Despite my request, his hips rocked with slow, deliberate strokes, allowing my body to adjust to his delicious girth. His
hands slid across my stomach, circling and tightening across my torso as his thrusts deepened. Dipping to my neck, his teeth caught the curve of it, latching on as he continued to piston his cock until he was buried to the root against my sex.

  I wanted to see him, all of him, as he fucked me, so I bowed forward, pulling free of his hands. Sinking forward, I clutched the counter, gasping as he penetrated deeper. His eyes shut against his reflection, but I drank in his lean form as he drove into me.

  He was beautiful, and he was mine. The scars of his past didn’t scare me, they drew me to him. And he needed to know that.

  “Open your eyes, X,” I commanded in a strong, sure voice. He had shown me how he saw me, and I wanted to return the favor. “I want you to see what you do to me. I want you to see what I see.”

  Alexander’s eyes flew open, blazing with wildfire, and the pain shining in them stole my breath away. I pushed against him encouragingly and his pace increased. His fingers caught my hair and tugged it back, yanking up my neck so that my gaze was fixed to his. And when I couldn’t look away, he plunged hard into my drenched sex, impaling me on his cock. I cried out, pleasure wrenching through me as he continued his merciless onslaught. Our sights were locked on each other as the first surge quaked through me. I fought to keep my eyes open as the pressure mounted, aroused by the sheen of perspiration glistening across his carved body.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged. “All of you. Give me all of you.”

  A groan vibrated from him as he poured into me, flooding me with hot gushes, and I shattered, bursting against him with a rapturous cry.

  Collapsing against the vanity, I rode out the after-tremors, but Alexander continued to pound into me, moving with slick, desperate thrusts against my sensitive walls.

  “Alexander,” I pled, but he didn’t stop.

  “Need…need…” he grunted, his voice distant as he drove tirelessly into me.

  I recognized the fire burning in his eyes—saw his need to control, and I trembled as my sex swelled, smarting at the endless stimulation. The veins on his neck pulsed, a guttural noise escaping his lips as he came again. But he didn’t slow. He was lost, chasing the demons of his past with visceral, animalistic need.

  Wresting away from him, my sex swollen and full, I turned and folded my arms around his shoulders.

  “Brimstone,” I whispered, not only for my benefit, but for his as well. He thought he could outrun the past by controlling the present.

  “I need to be inside you,” he gasped, but I shook my head.

  This moment was too raw—too fresh—to ignore.

  His head dropped to my chest and he gathered me in his arms, lifting me to sit on the counter. When he finally looked up, the flame was gone from his eyes, and I saw through him, even as his gaze pieced me. We were stripped to one another, unguarded and vulnerable. He tenderly positioned himself against my battered entrance, pausing as his eyes asked permission. No longer hesitating, I sheathed myself to his root, knowing there was no other choice.

  Neither of us moved.

  Neither of us spoke.

  But we clung to one another motionlessly, woven together through shared pain and united by unspoken promise. We were defenseless, exposed, naked, and we could only face it together.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sharing a bathroom with Alexander proved to be nearly impossible. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. I dabbed some lip-gloss on as Alexander lounged in his boxer briefs against the wall. Seeing him so relaxed around me—no longer hiding his body—meant more than I could express. I watched him in the mirror, drinking in his lean, muscular form.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to have to take you back to bed.” The playful tone in his voice made my toes curl.

  Yes, please, I thought. Then sighed. I was already half-dressed in my skirt and bra, and I didn’t have time to spare if I was going to get to the office on time. “Don’t even think about it, X. I’m going to be late already.”

  “I warned you that I’m a man who takes what he wants,” he purred.

  Before I knew what was happening, I was up over his shoulders as he carried me to my room.

  “Put me down!” I swatted his ass. “I’m late.”

  “Stop fighting me or you won’t make it in at all,” he promised me, a dark gleam flickering in his eyes.

  I couldn’t help wishing that he would make good on that threat.

  Alexander dumped me onto the bed and then dropped to his hands at my feet. Stalking up my legs, he caught the hem of my skirt in his teeth and dragged it past my hips. My teeth sank into my lips, a low moan escaping me as his bare chest grazed across my flesh. Despite the slight padding of my bra, my nipples pebbled into tight beads at the contact.

  Would I ever get enough of him? Of this? I couldn’t fathom it, not when my body still responded with uncontrollable lust every time he touched me. But now there was the edge of something deeper, something beyond the physical, when he touched me, and my chest ached as my emotions flooded through me.

  Alexander’s hands shoved my thong to the side and his clever fingers delved between my folds as he stroked in and out of my swollen cleft. “See, poppet? You’re still dressed.”

  I forgot how to speak as his thumb massaged my clit.

  “Although this bra is vexing,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Your tits belong in my mouth. Don’t they, Clara?”

  A sob of pleasure racked my body at the thought, tightening my muscles as my body coiled, nearly frantic for release, but Alexander stilled. I rolled my hips, desperate for his fingers to continue their ministrations, but he refused.

  “Clara?” His mouth skimmed along my jaw, sending tingles down my neck.

  “Yes!”

  He met my affirmation with the plunge of his fingers, dipping and twisting deftly as he rubbed my clit. My body heated, a thin sheen of sweat developing across my skin, and I arched against him, grinding my hips against his powerful hands as my orgasm wrenched through me in violent spasms.

  Alexander brushed a sticky strand of hair from my forehead and kissed me softly. I was little more than a puddle under him, boneless and sated. It was impossible to consider going to work now.

  A knock at the door startled me out of my stupor, but Alexander shushed me and pressed his lips to mine. The second knock was more insistent, and he relented, helping me to my feet and tugging down my skirt. By the time I’d pulled on my shirt, my unexpected visitor was hammering on the door.

  There were only a few people who had the access code to our building and it wasn’t hard to guess which one of them was banging down my door. Sliding through the living room, I reached the door, stopping to momentarily compose myself—and mentally prepare. My mother flew into the flat, a stream of incoherent babble bursting out of her. Despite her distraught appearance, she was put together in pressed linen slacks and a matching jacket. I waited for a moment, but then I realized that she wasn’t going to stop talking without intervention.

  “And your father has been on the phone all morning, trying to get it taken down before you—”

  “Mom, I know about the story,” I butted in.

  “Of course you know about it,” she snapped. “Your photo is on the cover of every paper in London. He’s just trying to do a little damage control.”

  Damage control. I knew exactly what she meant by that. My parents had been controlling damage to their reputations for years. It was the nice way of saying bribing and threatening. I’d experienced being at the damage control center before, but now that I was an adult, I wasn’t having it. “I’d prefer that you let me handle this.”

  “You?” she scoffed. “Clara, darling, you aren’t thinking clearly. Your father—”

  “Doesn’t need to worry about this,” I cut her off. “I have things under control.”

  She looked as though she seriously doubted that, but she wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me until I gasped for breath. What was m
eant to be a comforting gesture only left me in pain—as usual. When she finally released me, I glanced nervously toward the hall.

  I needed to get her out of here.

  “I’m fine, Mom, really,” I promised her in a weak voice, ushering her toward the door.

  “That’s what you said before. When did you start seeing Alexander again? Don’t try to deny it! Your appearance with him at that ball has been all over the internet.” She wagged a finger at me, stopping only when she realized what she was doing. Clearing her throat, she straightened her silk scarf and changed direction. “We have people who can help you spin this.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary, Mom.” A flicker of movement in the hall caught my eye, and I realized my bedroom door was no longer shut. Grown woman or not, I didn’t need the drama Madeline would unleash if she found Alexander had spent the night with me. “All I really want is to finish getting dressed. I need to be at work in less than hour.”

  She continued, oblivious to my attempt to get her out of the flat. “I called Lola this morning, and she thought that we might try—”

  “You called Lola?” I asked, not bothering to hide my disbelief.

  “She’s going into PR and she’s very savvy about social media,” Mom reminded me.

  “She’s twenty-one and she’s had fifteen majors since she got to university!”

  “Lola is set on public relations,” she said, completely dismissing my objection.

  “You know what?” I strode over to the front door. “I’ve got this. I don’t need you or Lola or Dad helping me out.”

  Mom wavered, tentatively stepping forward, her eyes fixed on the door, before she burst into tears. “You’re cutting me out of your life, Clara. You know how dangerous that is. Does he even know? Have you spoken with him since the story was leaked?”

  I wasn’t sure what made me angrier: the idea that she thought this story would affect how he felt about me or that she didn’t have my back. I’d worried enough about his reaction to the revelation, and Alexander had surprised me, even if it had taken all night for him to convince me it didn’t matter. Now my mother, the person who was supposed to show me unconditional love and support, was standing before me and confessing that she thought I was damaged goods.