by Geneva Lee
“You won’t.”
We stood for a moment and regarded each other.
Dad cleared his throat, but his voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “I hope Alexander knows how fortunate he is. I made certain that he knew I didn’t care who his father was. If he hurts my little girl—”
“Dad!” I laughed with shock.
“Let’s just say he knows what will happen.” He winked at me, drawing me close to him. My head dropped to his shoulder, and for the first time in a very long time, things were right between us.
Chapter Seventeen
Belle let out a low whistle as I escorted her to one of the fifty or so guest rooms my new home boasted. “Our flat would have inferiority issues if it saw what you left it for.”
I snorted. Belle had been here before for our engagement gala, but then it had been crammed full of guests. Seeing it after hours, when the staff had largely left for their private apartments and the place was empty was a whole other experience. I pivoted around, walking backward and gesturing to the space around us. “This is the aptly named Horse Corridor, because, as you can see, someone liked horses.”
Like most of the house, the corridor skirted a thin line between the garish and the opulent. The walls were papered in crimson damask that matched the curtains and antique divans, but the showstopper was the equine portraiture that decorated the space.
“I imagine I’ll have to take up riding,” I said thoughtfully.
Belle giggled, her eyes darting across the extravagant space. “I thought you already had.”
If only she knew. Thinking back to the ill-fated country weekend I’d spent with Alexander last summer, I remembered just how pleasurable riding could be.
“Your cheeks match the drapery,” Belle continued to tease. “Thank God Alexander is making you an honest woman tomorrow.”
“Follow me,” I said, flourishing my arm toward a long staircase at the end of the corridor. I led her up the stairs, pointing out which rooms would comprise my private quarters as we made our way to the guest room I’d set aside for my best friend’s use.
“I’ll be across the hall,” I said as I showed her inside her room.
“What about your private quarters, Your Highness?” Belle dipped into a curtsy.
“Promise to never do that again,” I groaned and flopped onto her bed, not quite ready to be alone for the night. Butterflies had begun to circle in my stomach, each second that passed ratcheting up the anxious excitement I’d felt since I had woken up this morning. “I’m sleeping across the hall, because I told Alexander he couldn’t see me until morning.”
“Will he survive that long without shagging you?” She raised both her eyebrows and tapped her fingertips together. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
“It’s tradition.”
“One of many,” Belle said as she inspected her surroundings. She drew a manicured fingertip over the top of nightstand. “They must clean all the time. So how do you really feel about your humble abode?”
“It’s…something,” I managed.
“That’s highly complimentary,” she said dryly, dropping onto the bed beside me.
“It’s not mine. Not yet. It might be eventually.” I already missed the house we’d left behind in Notting Hill. Not only because we’d made it our own, but because it had been our first home. “I feel out of place here. In every room some stuffy portrait glares at me and I get lost at least twice a day.”
“You’ll get used to it,” she said, dropping her voice to add, “especially once you start breaking in all the rooms.”
I glanced out her bedroom door to the expansive hall. “That will take forever.”
“Not with the way you two go at it. There’s even a bet going around about when you two will get caught by the staff. ” She pulled her mobile out of her bag and turned on the screen. “I gave it a week, but Edward gave it five days.”
I snatched the mobile from her hands only to discover a blank screen.
“You’re shameless, Annabelle Stuart,” I said, handing it back to her.
“I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me.” She lay down on the bed, and I rolled over onto my back, resting my head against hers.
“Do you think Philip will come?” she asked quietly.
“His invitation has been rescinded. I also asked Norris to place a shoot on sight order for Pepper.”
Belle’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “If only.”
“If only,” I agreed.
“Hey,” Belle said, “you should get some sleep. I hear you have something to do in the morning.”
I rocked to my feet with a sigh and blew her a kiss.
“Very regal,” she assured me.
I tossed a pillow at her head.
“Sweet dreams to you, too!” she called as I padded across the hall.
The bedroom was a massive reminder that I’d spend my last night as a single woman alone. The few objects that belonged to me were scattered on an antique dresser, but the centerpiece of the unfamiliar space hung from the wardrobe.
My wedding gown stared mockingly at me from within its protective bag. Tomorrow I would put that dress on, I’d be escorted to Westminster Abbey, walk down an aisle, and be married. It didn’t seem possible that a year ago I’d been feverishly studying and taking final exams.
“How did this happen?” I asked the empty room.
Damn me and my tradition. My strange surroundings only reinforced his absence while reminding me just how far I’d landed from my own league. Maybe it was my nerves kicking into overdrive, but I needed Alexander and the reassurance his touch provided.
A knock called me from my memories, as if someone had arrived to answer that very question, and I hurried to the door, keeping my hand over the lock.
“Yes?”
“I was informed there’s a woman inside who’s about to make a terrible mistake, and I came to see if I could talk her out of it.” Alexander’s muffled voice answered from the other side.
“You can’t see me until morning,” I reminded him. I had been the one who had insisted on taking separate quarters for the night, wanting to ensure he didn’t see me before the ceremony. That had seemed like a brilliant idea until I’d wound up alone in a strange room talking to my wedding dress.
“My watch says it’s only ten o’clock, Poppet. Open the door.”
Two hours until the day of our wedding. That should be just enough time. It also would prevent me from staying up all night staring at the ceiling.
“Hold on.” Scrambling over to the wardrobe, I tucked the bag inside and closed it.
When I opened the door, Alexander filled the doorframe. His arms hung overhead, clutching the wood. The biting scent of bourbon hit my nostrils and I stared at him. “Have you been drinking?”
“I had a drink with Edward. Unofficial stag night.” He stalked forward. “Nothing wild, Poppet.”
I relaxed a little knowing Edward had the good sense to cut his brother off the night before his wedding.
“My king bed is missing its queen.” He moved closer and his scent reminded me of the day we’d met, spicy and sharp. I’d wanted to kiss him then—to know what he tasted like. But one taste wasn’t enough. It never would be.
“I have something for you,” I said coyly.
“Poppet, I thought you’d never offer.”
“Keep it in your pants, X.” I darted to the dresser before he could grab me and picked up a small red box. “I found this when we were moving. I’d bought it months ago and never gave it to you.”
“Can I open it?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“It’s silly,” I warned as I handed it over to him. “I thought I’d give it to you tomorrow, but then I realized I’ll hardly get you alone.”
“Oh, you’ll get me alone.” He smirked as he lifted the box lid. He drew out the small wax stamp and studied it, a grin tugging at his lips when he saw what it said.
X
“For whe
n you write me letters,” I whispered. “There’s sealing wax as well. I know you have your own, but—”
“It’s perfect,” he stopped me as he dropped it back in the box and took out the wax. “Do you like my letters?”
I nodded, my eyes closing temporarily as his wicked words drifted to mind, accompanied by flames of all the times he turned them into reality.
“Yes,” I breathed as he circled around me, tapping the thick bar of sealing wax against his palm. “Write me one now.”
He pressed against my back, his lips dropping to the curve of my neck. “Poppet.”
“Hmmm,” I murmured dreamily.
“I’ve been picturing you all night with white silk shoved up to your waist.” One hand snaked around my waist, capturing my breast. Alexander’s fingers kneaded through the fabric of my dress until my nipple stiffened sharply. My breasts grew heavier as he massaged them until they were swollen and hot. “Tomorrow I’m going to take your luscious tits into my mouth, claim them right through your wedding gown, and suck them until you come.”
My hips moved against his and he continued to compose his sinful promises. “I’m going to take you to church and then I’m going to find the first dark corridor and worship you.”
I moaned, needing his devotion now, longing for his hands to continue to tease and torment.
“Thinking of claiming you as my bride is making me so fucking hard. All I can think about is watching my wife sink onto my cock.” He abandoned my breasts and pressed a hand to the mound between my thighs. “Do you want to be claimed?”
“Yes,” I murmured, my hips writhing against his hand.
He nipped my earlobe. “I’m writing a letter, Poppet, but if you insist.”
Drawing my zipper down my back, he peeled my dress off my shoulders as he unhooked my bra until my swollen breasts were free. Then he slowly pushed it over my hips until it puddled at my feet, leaving me in my garter belt and stockings. His fingers traced the straps before he plucked them free one by one and jerked down my panties.
“Crawl up on the bed and inspire me,” he ordered, stroking his cock through his trousers.
I climbed onto the bed slowly and spread my knees, giving him his first glimpse of the surprise I’d planned for our wedding night. Belle had escorted me to the salon the day before and I’d braved the wax room. I’d never gone completely bare before but the low hiss of his exhale told me he approved.
“That is very inspiring.” He drew his hand down my slick sex, murmuring his approval. A moment later I tensed as I heard the metallic click of his belt unbuckling. Silence fell between us. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll never strike you like that again.”
“I know,” I said in a small voice.
“Turn over onto your back,” he instructed.
Rolling over, his gaze smoldered into me as he carefully removed the belt and laid it on the bed. “This will never hurt you again.”
“I know,” I repeated, wishing I could control the reaction I had to it.
“I’m going to show you that,” he said, picking it up and moving to the side of the bed. “Put your hands over your head.”
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my arms and crossed them.
“What’s your safe word?”
“Brimstone,” I whispered.
“If it’s too much or you want me to stop, use it.” He slid the leather strap under my wrists and wrapped it around them, gently binding my hands. My breathing sped up with each coil until finally he pulled the belt tightly through its buckle. “I love when you obey me, Poppet. When you show me you trust me with your pleasure.”
Alexander returned to the foot of the bed, running a hand through his black hair as his eyes raked over me. Leaning down, he urged me to bend my knees, opening myself to him.
“Spread your legs. Show me how wet your cunt is for me.”
I widened my thighs until my hips ached. The pulse in my clit throbbed as the sensitive nub met with air.
“Pain and pleasure,” he murmured as he stripped off his clothes. I was captive to his gaze, held in place by more than the belt he’d used to restrain me. Tiny emissaries of pleasure rippled along my skin as he stood over me, stroking the wide shaft of his cock. “If I was writing a letter to you, I’d sign my name.” His finger wrote an X across my inner thigh before it descended to my drenched folds and thrust inside me.
“Then I would slide it into the envelope,” he continued as he pumped his finger leisurely. “Do you know what I would do next?”
My head twisted against my bindings, and I bit the tender flesh of my upper arm, trying to contain the orgasm clawing its way free.
“You can’t come yet. I haven’t finished with my letter.”
His finger withdrew, leaving my hole pulsating against the sudden emptiness.
“Look at me,” Alexander said a moment later, but I shook my head. “Look at me now or I’ll go back to my room until I’m sure you’ve learned your lessons.”
I forced my eyes to open and meet his.
“Very good.” His fingers flicked and a moment later a match blazed to life. The flame traveled along its thin path until it died at his fingertips. “It’s very important to me that my letter remains private. It belongs to me just like your beautiful cunt. Tell me who it belongs to, Clara.”
“You,” I panted, my hands wiggling against the leather strap. I needed to get free—needed to pull him into me.
“You’ll want to hold still for this,” he warned as he lit another match and held the flame to the wick of the sealing wax. “Otherwise this could get messy.”
My teeth sank into my lip, my body going rigid with the expectation of pain as I watched the fire claim the base of the wax. Alexander held it over my breasts patiently. A thick bead of paraffin formed at the tip, drooping lower as it bloated until it seared across my stiff nipples. Its heat faded quickly, but it fed the slow burn growing inside me. Another scorching drop spilled across my left breast, and I cried out as the tension at my core mounted.
“You look so fucking gorgeous right now. I love watching you squirm until it hits and then you melt along with it.” He dripped a path down the valley of my breasts to my navel. “Lift your ass in the air.”
I arched up, balancing precariously as my heels sank into the mattress.
“That’s right,” he hissed. “I love when you spread your legs in those fuck-me high heels. But you have to stay very, very still for me. Can you do that, Poppet?”
I nodded, a whimper escaping my lips as I tried to keep myself from swaying. Wax splattered down my sex, the swelling of my folds preventing its heat from hitting my engorged clit. I bucked against the hot liquid, feeling it harden as another drop streamed across my tender flesh.
“Signed, sealed and delivered,” he murmured, puffing out the wick. Alexander abandoned the wax on the bedside table and knelt between my spread thighs. A hand slid under my ass, supporting my shaky legs and his cock nestled against my aching seam. My back arched up, seeking the contact I so desperately craved. He’d drawn and quartered me, stretched me beyond the limits of my restraint and I couldn’t wait any longer. His free hand hooked around my thigh, bringing my left leg around his waist. “Wrap them around me. I want to feel those heels digging into my tailbone as I fuck you.”
My legs circled his hips and he sank into me, with a low groan.
“You’ve been such a good girl, so patient while I played with you. Now I’m going to make you feel so good.” He glided inside me, burying himself deeper with each precise stroke. His hand moved to my lower belly, and he pushed the rough pad of his thumb against my clit as his cock pummeled me. Lights exploded across my vision and I cried out, my thighs clamping against his waist. I dug my heels in for leverage as I rocked hard against his groin.
“Fuck yes,” he hissed as he released into me, impaling me while I unraveled on him. “I love you, Clara. I love you so fucking much.”
My legs fell open as I collapsed against the bed. A m
oment later, he pulled my wrists free of the belt, massaging them tenderly. My arms stayed over my head, my face pressed against them as I quaked with the remnants of my climax. His weight shifted off the bed and I heard water turn on in the ensuite bathroom. I sensed his return, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t look at this man who had pushed me to the breaking point and held on as I fell over it.
Alexander scooped me into his arms and carried me into the shower. The hot water washed over me, melting the remaining tension from my limbs.
“Can you stand?” he whispered, nuzzling my ear.
“I think so.” I wasn’t entirely positive I was right about that, but as he lowered me to my feet, he kept his hands on my hips until I’d regained control of my legs. Carefully he pulled away the wax and then washed away the oil. I leaned into him, luxuriating in the sense of completion I felt when he cared for me. This is what our marriage would be—push and pull, give and take.
A half an hour later, I kissed him goodnight at the door, already longing to be in his arms again. He tugged the sash of my robe tightly around my waist.
“See you in the morning,” he said meaningfully.
“I’ll be the one in white,” I teased.
Closing the door behind him, I pressed a hand to my chest as my heart raced. In the morning, we’d be joined in the most intimate way possible. We had a lifetime of nights like this ahead of us, and I was ready for each and every one of them.
Chapter Eighteen
Pulling down the wrinkled covers, I decided it was time to go to bed. Otherwise I was going to fall asleep at the altar. But before I could untie my robe, someone knocked at the door.
Apparently X wasn’t going to take my demand that he couldn’t see me after midnight seriously.
“Am I going to have to call Norris to drag you away?” I asked as I swung the door open, knowing that saying no to Alexander was already a lost cause.
But it wasn’t him at the door; it was his father. The King raised a questioning eyebrow at my appearance, and I adjusted my robe quickly.
