by Geneva Lee
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Edward ignored the evil look she cast toward him and picked up a butter knife, which he twisted thoughtfully in his hands. “It makes your complexion look all green. Clashes with your dress.”
“We all know you’re an expert on the subject,” Pepper said, but she’d turned her angry face to me. “I saw that dress at Tamara’s. I had no idea you had even heard of her. I thought she was a bit more exclusive.”
“She can’t be terribly exclusive if you know who she is,” I said without missing a beat.
Alexander blinked beside me as though he was only now hearing the conversation between me and Pepper.
“I’ll have to speak to her,” she said.
“When you do, give her my love.” I had never heard of Tamara. I’d never met her. Belle had picked this dress out for me. It was purchased with my own money though, and I knew one thing. On Monday I would be in that boutique cleaning her out of every size six dress she had in stock. There was no way I’d let Pepper win, even if it was only at shopping.
“I will.” Pepper smiled sweetly, and I returned the gesture as the soup course was placed in front of us. It smelled delicious, all creamy with toasted croutons floating on top. I raised my soup spoon, reminding myself to be graceful even as my stomach growled. Across the table, Pepper pushed her bowl away with distaste. Despite my hatred of her, my stomach flopped at the gesture. I had no reason to suspect that Pepper shared that in common with me, but it was a warning sign. She reached for her water, laughing at a joke as she leaned closer to Jonathan. I slurped the soup from my spoon and continued to watch her as the conversation around me picked up. Everyone was chatting, except Alexander and me. Maybe I just wanted to distract myself from his coldness and that was why I was seeing behavioral patterns that weren’t really there. Maybe Pepper simply didn’t like soup.
I took a few more spoonfuls before I placed my napkin on the table to signal that I was finished with it. If it was anything like I expected, I’d be stuffed by the third course if I didn’t pace myself. But when I looked up, Pepper was watching me, a calculating look in her eyes. I turned toward Alexander, but he continued to eat.
Dropping my voice so we couldn’t be overheard, I said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked stiffly.
“You seem upset.”
Alexander’s eyes flashed up to meet mine finally, a bemused smile on his face. “We still have a lot to learn about one another, Clara. I wasn’t upset—” his voice lowered “—I was turned on. I didn’t think I could stop myself from throwing you across the table and ripping off those shameless excuses for knickers you’re wearing if you touched me again.”
I blinked at this, my perception of the situation adjusting to this revelation. How hadn’t I seen that? He needed to reestablish dominance, which for Alexander meant sex. That’s what he had been thinking. Confidence ballooned in my chest at the thought. He wasn’t angry with me. He wanted me. Because I looked hot. Because I drove him crazy.
“Maybe you should,” I said, unable to stop myself. I wanted the delicious ache between my legs to grow, knowing that it would go unfulfilled for another hour or two, so that by the time we were alone once more, the moment he took me would be worth the build up.
“Don’t tempt me, Clara. A man only has so much restraint.” His lips twitched though, and I could see him imagining the scene: the reaction of the entire dinner party as he threw me across the linen—glasses shattering, forks clattering—and shoved his hot, thick cock inside me. I couldn’t help squirming at the thought. Alexander spotted my fidgeting and smiled wider. “Soon, poppet.”
I trembled at the thought, forcing myself to focus on the next course as it was served. But I could only pick at my salad, too distracted by Alexander’s gaze, which continued to burn through me. When the third course arrived—leg of lamb served medium rare—Alexander grinned as they placed my plate in front of me.
“Eat up, Clara,” he murmured. “You’ll need your strength tonight.”
My eyes closed, drinking in his words, my fork hovering over my meal. My mouth watered, but it had nothing to do with the heavenly scent wafting from the food in front of me. Alexander should be given a special commendation for building anticipation.
“I do hope you aren’t having an episode.” Pepper’s voice pulled me from my fantasy.
My eyes snapped open to find a shameless smirk on her face, her eyes gleaming with mischief that I knew was far from innocent. I took a bite, chewing it slowly and making an oh-my-god face as I swallowed. Pepper sighed disgustedly at my orgasmic performance.
“I was so surprised when I found out about your little problem,” she said in a voice that carried over the other conversations at the table. Inwardly I cringed, but I forced myself to keep my head held high. “Usually women with eating disorders are thinner.”
My mouth fell open, shocked that she’d not only bring this up at the dinner table in front of a huge group of people, but that she’d actually say something that heinous. If she had wanted attention, she now had it. Not surprisingly, Amelia and Priscilla tittered with nervous laughter at her little show. The King said nothing, but his mother dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, not concealing her disgust. But was that distaste leveled at the person who deserved it—or at me for being flawed? I couldn’t be sure.
A few seats down, Edward folded his hands on the table. “Pepper, be careful. Your bitch is showing.”
“Edward,” his father admonished him.
“Oh, you aren’t deaf,” Edward replied, shooting his father a sharp look over his horn-rimmed glasses. “You’re just pretending to be oblivious to what’s right in front of your face.”
“Something you count on,” Pepper threw in, scathingly. The comment hit its mark, and Edward clamped his mouth shut.
My mind spun with so many things I would like to say to her that I couldn’t decide on one. I had expected her to attack me, but the heartless taunts directed at Edward pushed me over the edge. He’d called her out and she stepped over the line. Did she have any clue the damage she was doing to the fragile relationships he had with everyone at this table? My hands trembled with rage as I watched Edward pretend to ignore her. If anyone didn’t belong at this table, it was Pepper.
The table fell into a silence, and I finally dared to look at Alexander, who hadn’t spoken. As soon as I saw his face, I understood why he hadn’t come to our defense. Veins pulsed along his neck, his jaw tight, his lips thinned into a straight line, and his knuckles had gone white from clutching his silverware. He was employing his considerable self-control, and I wasn’t certain I wanted to see what would happen if it faltered.
Pepper obviously didn’t share my concern.
“You should probably get your girlfriend—” she spit the word out, making it clear what she thought of giving me this title “—some help before her eating disorder gets her on more tabloid covers.”
By now the shock had worn off, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Pepper, I can’t help noticing you haven’t touched your plate or your salad or your soup. The only thing you’ve had your mouth on is that rocks glass. I’m happy to lend you my doctor’s name after I finish eating.”
Beside her, Edward bit back a smile, but Albert threw down his napkin. “Enough of—”
“You don’t get to say enough,” Alexander said in an even voice so deadly calm that it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “Not if you watch as she’s slandered.”
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Pepper said, but I saw her throat slide as she swallowed nervously.
“You’re here as a guest of this family,” Alexander reminded her, “because of Sarah. I’m now rescinding that invitation. I’d like you to leave.”
Pepper stared at him, eyes wide as saucers, as the entire table erupted into conflicting opinions on Alexander’s etiquette.
“This is my house,” Albert said, knocking his fist against the table.
“And surely you stand by
your son’s request to have a fair-weather friend removed from our table,” Alexander said loudly to match the volume of his father’s voice. “Unless Pepper is here at your invitation.”
The implication in Alexander’s words was clear, and his father’s nostrils flared. Pepper and Albert? It couldn’t be true, although it would explain a lot.
Albert gave a terse nod of support to his son, before rising and exiting the room. The mirth was now completely stripped from Pepper’s face as she stumbled to her feet, her eyes flashing to her companions as if she expected one of them to come with her.
“Pris?” she mumbled, her eyes pleading.
Pris opened her mouth and then shut it again, giving Pepper an apologetic smile. Pepper lifted her head, shooting one more withering look my way as she did, and marched from the room without another word.
“Finish your dinner,” Alexander said softly.
I swallowed and stared at my plate. My appetite was gone, replaced by a pit in my stomach that was quickly filling with dread. Around us, the others picked at their food and no one spoke. Everyone too lost to think of anything to say.
“Now,” he added in a more commanding tone, keeping his voice lowered so that only I could hear.
I took a bite and another, but I didn’t taste anything. Pepper might be gone, but I felt eyes watching me, looking away as soon as they were caught. Eating became an act of rebellion. I would show them they were wrong about me. There was no glory in it though, only the hollowness of regret. I wished I had never come here.
When I was finished, I stood and nodded toward the head of the table. “The meal was delicious and enlightening. Please excuse me.”
I rushed from the room, exiting out the door that the servers had brought the food through. I moved so quickly that I nearly ran into one carrying a large platter of decadent looking desserts. I muttered an apology without stopping.
I need to get out of this house.
It was my only thought as I dodged the staff in the kitchen, spotting a back entrance in the process. Pushing open the door while the cook gawked at me, I stumbled onto a back patio. The sun had faded, leaving only the remnants of twilight in the sky, and I breathed in the evening air, trying to steady my heart and my thoughts. Turning back, I stared at the estate. It sprawled behind me, and I marveled that with its spacious rooms and grand arches, I could barely breathe inside it as though the walls were slowly moving in on me, crushing me so quietly that no one could hear me scream.
The back door opened and Alexander stepped through. Without a word, he strode toward me, grabbed my hand and pulled me along after him. When we’d moved outside the view of the kitchen windows, he yanked me to him.
“Alexander—”
But his finger flew to my mouth, silencing my protest. “I won’t apologize for her, Clara. I won’t waste any words on her.”
“I have a few that wouldn’t be wasted on her,” I said, but my voice quivered, betraying that she had managed to get to me.
“Poppet.” The endearment was soft as he took my face in his hands. He brought his lips to mine so slowly that I felt the electricity building between us. It exploded as our mouths met in white-hot passion. Alexander ravaged me, and the message was clear as his tongue plunged possessively inside my mouth, catching my own and sucking it into submission: I belonged to him. Nothing mattered but what he said. That might have scared me with another man, but with Alexander it set me free. I’d spent my whole life seeing myself through a funhouse mirror, but Alexander’s possession had clarified that warped vision, allowing me to see myself as he saw me.
I was limp under his domination, clay to be molded for his pleasure, knowing that when I gave myself to him, I’d experience more pleasure than I could have ever imagined. Alexander broke the kiss, stepping away, and I swayed, unbalanced without his touch. He sensed this and took my hand, placing it over the stiff bulge in his slacks. “This is what you do to me.”
My fingers flew to his belt buckle, but he pushed them away.
“No, Clara. When I say,” he reminded me. “Right now, I want you to turn around.”
My face flushed as desire pooled in my core, imagining Alexander fucking me right here. I did as he said, and Alexander pressed a hand to the small of my back, guiding me a few paces forward until we reached a stone balustrade that wrapped around the veranda. He pushed me gently against it, bending me over the railing. I faced the house, unsurprised to see the windows of this section dark.
“When I saw you before dinner,” he murmured, brushing my hair over my shoulder to whisper in my ear, “I wondered where you’d left your skirt.”
I giggled nervously. “I like this dress.”
“Oh, I like it, too,” he said. “I like that I can do this.”
His hand slipped easily under my skirt and between my legs.
“I must admit I didn’t like sitting next to you, so close to this—” he cupped my sex through the lace of my thong “—so close to what is mine, knowing I had to wait for it.”
“Antici…pa…tion,” I breathed, drawing out the word.
“That’s exactly what I had in mind, poppet.” His fingers drifted under the negligible fabric, sliding smoothly between my lips. “Do you want to step out of these for me?”
I sighed, my eyes shut as I relished the sensation of his long, rough fingers gliding wickedly between my seam. “You’re giving me a choice?”
“It’s come to my attention that we have finite resources on Earth,” he repeated my earlier jibe, “and that I should spare a few pairs of panties.”
“How forward-thinking of you,” I said, hitching my thumbs under the straps of my thong and wiggling them until they fell at my feet.
“I think you’ll approve of my planned call to action.” Alexander bent and retrieved the lacy scrap at my feet. He brought it to my lips and urged them open, stuffing them into my mouth. “We’re so very close to the kitchens, and I want to keep all those sexy little noises and cries of yours to myself.”
I whimpered against the fabric in my mouth, as a hint of perfume and muskiness flooded my nostrils.
“I’m actually jealous, poppet,” he said, his hand caressing down my throat and coming to rest at the nape of my neck. “I’ll bet you can taste that sweet, little cunt of yours on those panties, something I’ve been dying to do all night. I suppose I need to do something about that.”
Alexander pushed me farther over the bannister until my feet dangled slightly in the air. He stepped between my legs, spreading me before him, my short skirt providing no resistance. His hand stayed firm on my neck and his other one massaged down my bare ass until one finger slid down my crack, pushing me open for his greedy eyes. I protested feebly against my makeshift gag as his thumb circled around the soft, pink pucker he found there.
“Relax,” Alexander ordered. “You belong to me, Clara, and I want you. All of you.”
My eyes clenched shut as his thumb pushed against that forbidden place. I had never wanted something like this, but I was powerless to his touch. I needed to give all of myself to him. Trusting Alexander meant opening myself to him even when it scared me, although I couldn’t deny the sweep of pleasure as he drew his finger in and out of me in slow, careful strokes.
“I’d like to take your ass, Clara,” he said in a voice that warned me not to protest. “Remember it is mine, and I will claim it when I choose to.”
He increased the pressure of his massage until the lace caught my moans.
“Not tonight,” he said with a finality that left me panting with desperation. “You aren’t ready, poppet. But you can’t deny me my desire to play with you after you teased me all night in this poor excuse for a dress. They’re scared of you, you know. So different, so confident. You’ve unraveled them just as you’ve done to me.”
He didn’t stop as he spoke, rather he pushed in and out faster until I clung to the railing, holding on as the first waves of pleasure broke across me. Alexander slipped two fingers into my cleft, inc
reasing the pressure and filling me abundantly as he stretched me past my boundaries. He fucked me slowly until I cried out, overwhelmed by the new sensations that swelled in me. The panties muffled my exclamations, and I bit down on them.
“I love that little cry of yours. It sounds so helpless, as if you’re begging me to rescue you. Do you want to come?” he asked in a raspy voice that sent goose bumps shivering across my skin.
I nodded, unable to speak. The world around me was a blur of darkness and light. I was lost to my pleasure, lost to the sensations crowding into my body, rippling out like tiny emissaries to warn of an oncoming storm. And no matter how overwhelmed I was, I clung to the edge, never wanting this moment to end.
Alexander removed his fingers, drawing a gasp of displeasure from me as he left me aching and pulsing with need. But he immediately dipped down, running his tongue agonizingly slowly along my swollen lips, stopping to attend to my throbbing clit with long, drawing pulls. Then, without warning, his thumb pushed inside my rear, driving me over the precipice as my orgasm surged through me in powerful crests that broke across my body and rushed over my skin. It was too much. It was everything.
But Alexander continued even as my legs clamped against his head and I called out for him to stop, although I wished he never would.
He finally released me, only to rise and press his body against mine. “I need to be inside you.” Alexander pulled the panties out of my mouth. “Ask for it.”
My legs shook under me, and my sex pulsed, tender and swollen. I couldn’t handle any more. I was too sore, too tired to stand. “I…I can’t.”
“Wrong answer,” he breathed, and I heard his pants unzip.
“Too much,” I whimpered.
“Poppet,” he soothed me, even as his cock slipped between my legs, pressing hot against my sensitive flesh. He waited, poised at my entrance. I bit my lip, trying to control my body’s urge to open for him as he stroked his crown along my seam. I wanted to believe I could still say no to him, even as my body shifted from overwhelmed to excited at his restrained touch.
Alexander pressed a kiss to my shoulder as he continued to persuade me with his perfect cock. I dropped my head back, losing myself momentarily to the temptation, and when I opened my eyes, I saw her.
