Page 86 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

Chapter Thirty-Two

Dismounting the horse, I turn to find her swinging her leg over to follow. I catch her, stopping her from sliding from the saddle. Clara doesn’t protest as I guide her legs open and slide my palms along her bare thighs. Her cunt is a dark, rosy pink, aggravated and aroused by our ride. It’s nearly as beautiful as she is.

I want all of her. I need all of her. I help her to her feet but only so I can lay claim to her. Clara seems to have the same idea as she rips at my clothing. She manages to get my jacket off before I grab her arm. Pinning her wrists together with one hand, I lift them. She’s an innocent caught in my snare. I lash out, forcing off her skirt before tearing off her blouse. Buttons scatter around us, but Clara only relaxes more with each predatory move. I slide my fingers into her bra, popping her breasts free from its constraints but leaving the lingerie to lift her nipples.

I take one and suck it like I could swallow her whole. Then the other. I continue until her breath comes in shallow pants, and she sways on buckling knees. I catch her before she crumbles—and more importantly before she comes. “Not yet, poppet.”

She moans but doesn’t fight me, so I push it farther. Dropping her arms, I order her. “Take off your bra.”

Clara obeys, her eyes locked with mine as she shrugs out of her ruined shirt. Her bra follows. Then she waits as though she understands the game we’re playing. I run my eyes along her bare skin as she stands before me in nothing but a pair of leather riding boots.

A thousand ideas war in my head for attention. “I have half a mind to set you back on that horse and watch your tits and ass bounce across the countryside.”

“I have something else I’d rather ride,” she says with well-deserved annoyance.

I try and fail to keep a smirk off my face. I love when she submits, but I don’t mind a little sass mixed in.

“You get off on this, don’t you?” she asks when she sees my grin.“Nearly driving me half-crazy until you fuck me?”

I’ve never pushed her this far before giving her what she wants, and part of me longs to savor her desperation longer. “I do, poppet, which is why I should take you over my knee and smack that sass right out of you.”

A tremble of pleasure races through her, so intense that she shivers. She wants it, too. But she won’t ask for that.

But I think she might give it.

“In fact…” My eyes skirt to the saddle where the riding crop’s been abandoned. I brace myself for a crush of disappointment as I lift her hand to kiss it. “I need to know that you trust me.”

“I thought I had proven that already. I’ve never been with anyone like I’ve been with you.”

“I assumed that much.” I try to sound casual. If she knows how strong my urge to dominate her is, I fear she’ll give in just to please me. I want her to want the domination. I want her to crave it. It’s the only way I can be truly satisfied. “That doesn’t mean you trust me.”

“Do you trust me?” she hits back, to my surprise.

For a second, I wonder how she can even ask that. How can’t she see the truth? “I think you’re the only person I’ve ever trusted.”

“Yes,” she whispers, as though she finally understands why we’re here. “I trust you.”

It’s the last part of her I’d left unclaimed. At least, I couldn’t be certain until now it was mine. She’s given me her body over and over again. This is something more, something deeper than I’ve asked or she’s offered.

I will not take the gift lightly. “Do you remember your safe word?”

She nods and murmurs it once as proof, “Brimstone.”

Hearing her say it unlocks the final shackle caging the man within. I allow him out with hesitation. A weight lifts from me even as I remind myself to take this slowly.

“Turn around and face the tree,” I order in a strained voice.

Clara does it, and I step toward her. Guiding her arms over her head, I help her brace against its trunk, pleased the bark is not terribly rough. I allow my hands to explore her: the flat, soft plane of her abdomen, the plump fullness of her hips, the rounded curve of her ass. Every delicious inch of her belongs to me.

“Close your eyes,” I say in a low voice.

She waits, not daring to move, as I retrieve the riding crop. I drink in the sight of her, her creamy skin smooth and elegant, contrasted with the dark trunk of the tree. Overhead the cloudy sky casts filtered light on her figure, posed and waiting for me to deliver whatever dark pleasures I wish.

“Spread your legs,” I demand as I move closer. “That is a fucking beautiful sight.”

I want her to know how perfect she is. I wish I could show her how I see her—how much I want her. I press my body to hers so she can feel the proof of it in her soft backside and smother her sex with my palm.

Fuck. “Your cunt is so wet for me. Feel how wet you are.”