Page 20 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

Chapter Six

Istep from the lift, shucking my suit jacket from my shoulders, and toss it on the sofa. It’s sad how comfortable I feel here, but it’s one of the few places where I can relax without running into a curtsying staffer. There’s enough room to spread, although my private quarters dwarf it. Still, it has one perk that Buckingham will never have: she’s here. I considered carrying her inside, but the gesture felt too romantic. My feelings for Clara are mixed up enough.

A rose flush settles onto her cheeks as she stares out the window, her eyes wide. It’s been so long since I bothered to look out over London that I can’t imagine what’s caught her attention. Maybe it’s the dreamy distance in her eyes, but I’m almost jealous. I’ve never seen this city as anything other than a burden—a price I’ll one day pay for false power. Watching her, I want to see it as she does.

Moving behind her, I peek over her shoulder, already distracted by the press of her soft body against mine. “Enjoying the view?”

“I am. You?”

“Very much. The city isn’t bad either.” It isn’t, actually. From here, it pulses with life, mirroring how I feel. The Eye can keep spinning, and the tourists can snap their photos. I’ll take a stolen afternoon away from the world.

My lips find her neck, and I want to taste her again. My teeth graze her as I consider the possibilities, and then I give in with one small nip to her shoulder. She melts against me, and I note her response to the suggestion of pain. Clara Bishop doesn’t share my sexual tastes, but she keeps showing signs she might. The thought is enough to make me want her again. This whole city will be mine someday, but I only want her. Drawing her skirt up, I push the wadded fabric against her stomach and move her closer to the glass, exposing her bare cunt to the world below. She shivers like she realizes what I’m doing—showing her off like a trophy. Not that I would ever allow anyone to see her like this. For the time being, she belongs to me.

“I’m going to fuck you in front of this window,” I promise her, stroking my hand along her until I feel her growing slick against my fingers. “I’m going to show the whole city that I take what I want.”

Clara sucks back a gasp, widening her stance a little to grant me access.

“I’m going to make you come in front of the busiest street in London.” I’m playing a long game with her clit, drawing her closer and closer and then pulling her back down before she can spill over. I want to make her come, but I enjoy the little noises she makes too much to do it yet.

“Please,” she whimpers, pushing against my hand. Her hips move in welcome, and I have to force myself not to send her over. Clara might not be a virgin, but she’s never been with a man like me. I can feel how tight she is—which is reason enough to go slowly—despite the raw temptation.

“Soon,” I whisper. “But not yet. I need to see how far I can take you. How much that beautiful cunt of yours can handle.”

Her ass grinds into my groin before she says the one thing I can’t resist. “I can handle anything you give me.”

I don’t think. She’s in my arms. I kick open the bedroom door and drop her on the mattress.

There’s too much clothing. I want her naked and spread in front of me. I want to lick every inch of her skin. I want to see the prize I’ve won.

“Take that off,” I demand.

I suspect Clara is the type that waits until night to fuck—the girl who wants the lights off—because there’s just a delicious second of hesitation before she does as I command. She pushes up and lifts her dress over her head. The sight of Clara on her knees in that delicate lace bra and nothing else will be with me the rest of my life, burned into my brain.

“I almost wish I hadn’t destroyed those panties.” Not that I want anything covering her, but now I wish I could rip them off again. “I’ll have to get you a new pair so I can fuck you in that sweet lace.”

She bites her lip, and I can’t wait any longer. “Spread your legs.”

Clara does as she’s told, watching me as I begin to undress. I’ve seen enough of her stubborn streak to assume she’s not always this obedient. Maybe it would get tiring to have her resisting me if we spent time together outside the bedroom, but knowing she would…I like that more than I care to admit. Because that means she’s giving me control—no matter what she said before. That means there’s hope that she might be exactly what I need.

Confusion clouds her eyes for a moment when I don’t take off my undershirt. Later, I’ll tell her it’s the price of admission. I don’t owe her more explanation than that, but I’ll make up for any disappointment she feels now in other ways. Sliding my belt free, I consider what she would do if I looped it around her slender wrists. Or what she would do if I turned her over and…

Clara stares at me as if she can guess what I’m thinking, and there’s a flash of fear.

One thing at a time.

Dropping it to the floor, I distract her with what I do have to offer now. Pushing my boxers to my ankles, I wait for the reaction I know to expect.

Apprehension. That’s the inexperience looking at me.

Excitement. That’s the woman looking back at me.

Pure lust. That’s simply Clara.

It radiates off her. It’s impossible that she could be so innocent and so wonton at the same time.

I stroke my hand over my shaft, considering how first to take her. I can think of quite a few ways I’d like to fuck her, but I’m still a gentleman: her needs come first. Literally. “Since I’m not certain your tight little cunt can handle me, I think it’s best if we try a more...traditional style.”

She giggles, and she looks as surprised by her reaction as I am.