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

by Geneva Lee

  “I thought I had proven that already,” I said. After what we’d experienced together, I thought it was obvious. “I’ve never been with anyone like I’ve been with you.”

  “I assumed that much.” The cocky tone was back in his voice. “That doesn’t mean you trust me.”

  “Do you trust me?” I asked as boldly as I could while standing stark naked in the middle of the countryside.

  Alexander’s eyes grew distant, and I wished I could take it back, but instead of growing cold and hard as they had when I’d stepped over the unstated boundary that separated us before, this time they flashed, filling with fire as he nodded his head. “I think you’re the only person I’ve ever trusted.”

  I forgot to breathe as the bare, vulnerable side of Alexander flashed before my eyes. It was gone in an instant, replaced by the rakish, handsome man he usually showed the world, but I’d seen through his disguise once more. He’d asked me the question first and it lingered still, dancing in the smoldering flames of his irises.

  “Yes,” I whispered, knowing he needed to hear me say it. “I trust you.”

  His answering smile wasn’t the arrogant grin that usually melted my panties, it was quiet and serious. The victory in it was present, but it was not full of self-satisfaction. He did trust me, and I’d given him that which he craved the most: control. I’d given my body, my mind, and—I realized with a pang—my heart.

  “Do you remember your safe word?”

  I nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed that there was a need for one, but Alexander had pushed my body further and further since I’d submitted to his darker desires. I’d only been able to do it because I saw his compulsion to protect me. “Brimstone.”

  “Turn around and face the tree,” he commanded.

  I did as I was told, and he rewarded me with the contact I so desperately craved. His hands swept up my sides, encouraging my arms to rise over my head, allowing him access to me. I braced myself against the tree as he pressed against me. His riding clothes scratched gently across my bare skin, making me ache for the touch of his skin against mine. For now, I relished the roughness of his probing fingers as they caressed my abdomen and trailed around to my backside, leaving paths of fire in their wake. Then he pulled away abruptly.

  “Close your eyes.”

  I squeezed them shut and waited for him to return for what felt like an eternity. I was barely conscious of the rough bark digging into the flesh of my wrists or the slight soreness from my stretching limbs. When he finally came back, I felt his presence even though he didn’t touch me.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered me, and I obliged, my body viscerally recalling the times he’d commanded me to do so before. “That is a fucking beautiful sight.”

  His hand clamped over my sex and a low growl rumbled through him. He tempted me with his contact but offered no reprieve from my desires, even as I felt his own jabbing against my bare ass.

  “Your cunt is so wet for me,” he rasped. “Feel how wet you are.”

  I dropped a trembling arm between my legs, and he caught my hand, pushing it against my throbbing, swollen sex. It was slick, heavy with lust, and ready for him. Despite myself, my fingers found my clit, but he pushed my hand away. “None of that.”

  I whimpered at the chastisement, the potential pleasure welling up in me until I thought I might burst, and when he moved away, leaving me to feel abandoned and desperate in my need, I thought for a moment I might cry. My safe word crept onto my tongue, and I fought the urge to say it. He had asked me to trust him, revealing for a moment the wounded man he was beneath the veneer of arrogance he wore like a well-cut suit, and I was powerless to say no to his request.

  I bit my lip and waited, ready for whatever he might give me.

  The first lash bit against my clit, vibrating through my body and making me cry out. It wasn’t painful, merely unexpected, and it wasn’t enough to push me over the cliff my body clung to. Cold leather rubbed across my seam, and I realized Alexander had found a purpose for the riding crop after all. Then the smooth rod was gone. I held my breath until it cracked lightly against my backside. The sting seared across my tender flesh, raising goose bumps along my skin. Alexander’s hand rubbed the spot with soft strokes, dissipating the remaining heat left by the whip, even as the flame kindling between my legs blazed into an inferno. He continued his massage, and I realized he was testing me, waiting for me to give the word that would urge him on or deliver me from him.

  “More,” I moaned.

  Alexander stepped forward and pressed a kiss to my neck—a simple gesture of gentle reassurance before he stepped back again. This time I heard the crop cut through the air before it smacked against my other cheek. The lash was more forceful but still controlled, even though my knees buckled at its impact. I cried out his name in affirmation of my pleasure.

  “Wider, poppet,” he demanded, a dangerous note tucked into the words.

  The crop pushed between my legs again, rubbing deliberately before it whipped against my clit once more. The bundle of nerves sang with longing. I was so close, but I knew this couldn’t satisfy my growing need. The orgasm mounting in me felt hollow. It wouldn’t diminish my craving. Only he could do that.

  “I need you,” I cried as the crop snapped against my sensitive bud again. Alexander stilled behind me, so I continued, “I need you inside me. I need you to fill me.”

  “Are you sure, poppet?” he asked, but even as he spoke, I heard his zipper.

  I managed to nod despite the lightness swimming through my head. Alexander intoxicated me. Without his touch, I forgot how to breathe. He had become the center of gravity I returned to after being stretched past my limits. I needed that haven now more than I ever had. Not just because he’d taken me to the very brink of pleasure, but because here, amongst his family and friends, our connection felt tenuous. I yearned for him, coveted him.

  His finger dipped into my sex, and I relaxed against him.

  “You bloom for me like a flower,” he murmured against my ear. The finger disappeared and the empty sensation returned, but it evaporated as I felt the thick crest of his cock nudging against my entrance. Even though I was practically dripping for him, I braced myself for the initial stroke—the one that always walked the line between pain and pleasure.

  “I need to fuck you, Clara,” he growled, his breath hot in my ear, and his cock twitching between my legs. “I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

  I wanted all of him.

  The angel and the demon.

  The heaven and the hell.

  He was my curse and my salvation.

  I answered without a second thought. “Don’t be.”

  Alexander groaned at my words, one hand wrapping fiercely around my belly as the other pushed his cock inside my trembling cleft. Despite his warning, he stilled for a moment. His now free hand brushed the hair from my neck, pushing it over my shoulder and holding it there, so that he could crush his body closer to mine. And then without further warning, he slammed into me, igniting a surge of flames that burned through my sex. His hand tangled in my hair, tugging me to him, yanking my head back until his lips captured mine. He continued his tireless assault as he guided my quivering legs down against his hard quads. I was nearly sitting on him, his powerful legs bent to allow him deeper access as he stroked against my velvet walls.

  The self-control I’d fought to maintain crumbled a little with each thrust, abandoning itself to the fulfillment I so desperately craved. Alexander broke our kiss, releasing my hair so that I could lean into the tree as he drove his cock toward a furious climax.

  “Come for me,” he ordered, and I unraveled around him, my limbs tightening and then softening as I shattered into him. He broke over me like a wave across the shore, pulling me out to sea and stealing away my breath as I drowned in his power. As I drowned in him.

  As the final fragments of pleasure swirled through me, his pace increased. He had taken me to the brink and let me fall over while maintai
ning the rigid self-control he clung to, but now his cock thickened and pulsed in my sensitive channel as he poured into me, flooding my sex with hot semen.

  “Clara. My Clara,” he groaned as he came, and I heard the truth in my name on his lips. He was as lost at sea as I was.

  We were both drowning.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I lay in the grass, spread naked over Alexander’s jacket while he tightened the saddle for our ride back to the estate. The sun blazed overhead, and I lounged lazily in its heat. I was in no hurry to return, especially given our current state. Half-dressed with his chest bare, his dark hair tousled from fucking, Alexander looked like a god, and I was enjoying the view. Despite the slight soreness from the rawness of our encounter, my core tightened as I caught sight of his unbuttoned pants, and I couldn’t help but want him again.

  Alexander turned and narrowed his eyes, sauntering toward me like a panther stalking his prey. I beckoned him with my finger, sighing as he lowered over me, holding himself in a push-up without touching me. I couldn’t complain because it showed the rigid discipline he’d developed over years of military service, as well as the chiseled muscles. I couldn’t resist running my fingers down the length of his abdomen, the tips of which practically vibrated over his packed abs.

  His eyes hooded as I caressed his forbidden zone. “You were giving me a come-hither look.”

  I arched against him, brushing my nipples across his flesh. They responded immediately to the contact, beading tightly, and I bit my lip, imagining teeth nipping across the sensitive tips. “That’s a shame. I meant to give you a come-fuck-me look,” I purred, arching higher so that my sex made precious contact with his groin. He was hard again, and my legs parted instinctively for him.

  “Now I see the difference.” He groaned as my hands stole to his fly and freed his cock. If it weren’t for its warm, pulsing veins, it could have been mistaken for marble. His body belonged to a different time. It was a work of art that belonged in a museum, and it was all mine. Reaching further down, I urged his sac free, cupping it gently and then giving it a playful squeeze.

  “Christ, I love it when you play with my balls.” His head dipped away from my mouth, finally finding my breasts. He covered my nipple with light suction, increasing the pressure until I felt it between my legs, which tightened instinctively, urging his cock to find its home.

  But I wasn’t done yet.

  “I want to suck you off,” I whispered, and Alexander stilled.

  “If you do that, I’ll only be able to fuck you longer.” He rocked his body against mine, so that his cock slid in and out of my grasp, poking into my pubic bone. The gesture felt like the promise of good things to come.

  But I couldn’t ignore that the sun no longer shone directly over my head. “How long do we have?”

  “Not nearly long enough to satisfy me. I want to fuck you in the twilight and under the stars and as the sun rises.”

  “Yes, please,” I said, licking my lips at the thought.

  “You’re so fucking hot for me, poppet. Do you know what that does to me?” Alexander pushed off of me. Kneeling between my legs, he fisted his cock, displaying its magnificent length. “You’ve got such a greedy cunt. All I want to do is fuck it. Fuck it hard. Fuck it slow. I want the absence of my cock in your pretty little cunt to feel abnormal. It belongs to me, and I’m going to take care of it as often as I can.”

  My sex clenched at his words. I wanted to please him. No, I needed to, because his fulfillment had somehow trumped my own, but I didn’t know how to say that to him. Instead I scrambled to my knees, dropping to my hands, and ran my tongue along his shaft. Alexander’s hand caught my hair, and he urged me up to a kneeling position with gentle force while he stood. His hands stayed in my hair, stroking my head softly as I licked his cock. Catching his balls on my tongue, I sucked one gently into my mouth and rolled it around until his hand clenched my hair more tightly, then I released it and focused on the other one until he urged me back.

  “I’m going to fuck your mouth now.”

  Before he could push his cock past my lips, I was on him, my mouth settling over him. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking and tonguing him with long strokes, and Alexander held back, allowing me to pleasure him. My hand gripped his cock, stroking him hard, urging him toward release.

  I drove my mouth down his shaft, hollowing my cheeks as he spurted against my throat, relishing the heat of his seed until he stilled. Alexander’s eyes remained closed even after I pulled away, pleasantly surprised to see his erection hadn’t diminished in the slightest. When he finally looked at me, I felt scorched to the bone.

  “My turn,” he said in a gruff voice.

  He laid me back, pressing my legs open with his hips. But he didn’t move inside me, despite my pleas. Instead he dropped a trail of kisses down my abdomen, stopping to whisper against the hollow of my thighs. “Do you know why I use the wax seal on the notes I send you?”

  I nodded my head, even as I tried to understand why this was important right now. “So they remain private.”

  “That’s the practical reason.” He paused, drawing his tongue along the crease and making me gasp. “The crest is an old family one.”

  “I had no idea they were so official,” I murmured, growing warmer as his mouth hovered so close to my clit that I could feel his breath on it.

  “Traditionally,” he continued, his fingers pushing into my seam and parting the delicate tissues, “red was used in correspondence to the church.”

  I thought of the red wax seal Alexander had employed, and my blood heated from a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

  Alexander paused, shifting his attention from my swelling sex to meet my eyes. “You are my religion, Clara Bishop. Sacred. Lovely. I want to worship you.”

  His mouth dropped to my cunt, and my breath caught as his tongue flicked across my clit. He teased my bud with soft, quick brushes that sent small ripples of pleasure through my body. When I didn’t think I could take any more, he settled over the sensitive spot and sucked hungrily. His finger probed my entrance, and I relaxed wider, welcoming him. He pushed another finger in, fucking me with long, deep strokes as his tongue swirled over my clit, and I came undone, shattering to pieces under his skilled assault.

  “You taste so fucking good,” he purred, trailing his tongue along my slit. It was too much for me to handle, and I shuddered, clamping my legs against his head instinctively. He rose to his knees, his hand fisting his shaft, and stared down at me.

  I barely had time to register the contact before he’d pushed into me again.

  “I can’t,” I moaned, my body not yet recovered from the earth-shattering orgasm he’d just given me.

  “I say you can,” he growled. My sex responded with shock, not ready for more stimulation, as he moved slowly in and out of my cleft. Alexander’s thumb found my clit and expertly stroked the sensitivity to excitement. I flowered for him and he sunk deeper inside me. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

  I obliged, stretching until my ankles hooked over his shoulders. Alexander groaned as his hands found my ass, gripping it tightly as he thrust into me with delicious slowness. I was on the verge of spilling over, and I caught my lip between my teeth trying to make the exquisite pleasure last longer.

  “Wait,” Alexander ordered me. “I say when you come this time.”

  He slipped out of me, and I cried out at the absence of him. He shushed me as he stroked his crown down the length of my seam. “I love watching your eager, little cunt opening for me.”

  I whimpered as he rubbed his cock along my sensitive lips.

  “Tell me what you need, Clara.”

  I watched him through my hooded eyelids, his spell making me feel as though I was drugged. “You.”

  “You have me.”

  I wiggled against him, encouraging his cock back to my cleft, but he continued to brush it over my sex without entering me, using just enough pressure to make me incoherently excited without
letting me climax.

  “I want your cock,” I moaned

  “I had to make sure you were ready,” he said, stroking his head along my swollen mound until I was nearly breathless. “I needed you relaxed and wet, so I can fuck you hard.”

  “Please,” I whispered between pants.

  Alexander thrust inside me without hesitation, pounding with supernatural speed and force, spurring me toward the edge. My hands groped for something to grab onto as he continued his unrelenting assault. They tangled in his dark hair, and I held on as his cock drove me toward another orgasm. Despite his ferocity, it built slowly, flickering and smoldering in low but powerful waves of fire through my whole body until I ignited under him. I splintered into a wildfire that blazed to life and came screaming his name just as he did, jetting into me with hot, potent jets.

  He collapsed onto me, and my arms wrapped around him, cradling him against me. I didn’t want this afternoon to end.

  “I could do that for the rest of the night.” His words were hot and urgent against my neck.

  “Let’s,” I agreed.

  I felt his lips curve into a grin as he brushed them over my skin and rolled off me and onto his side. “I love that your body is so needy. It’s quite the challenge to keep your beautiful cunt satisfied.”

  “It’s only needy for you.” I gasped as he dipped one finger into my drenched slit.

  “Yes, that’s right, poppet. Only I can give you pleasure.” His finger twitched inside me as his eyes gazed hungrily into mine. “And I will give you more tonight after dinner.”

  I closed my eyes and pictured Alexander taking me on the large four-poster bed in my room. “Promise?”

  “Everything I say to you is a promise.” There was a raspy edge to his voice as he spoke, and I reopened my eyes to meet his. “When I say I’m going to fuck you, that’s a promise. When I say I’m going to make you beg, that’s a promise. And when I say this beautiful cunt is mine, that’s a promise.”