Page 19 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

Her smile is a bit grudging but bright.

“A smile. Now that’s lovely. I wonder if I’ll see that after you come when you’re still full of me.” She needs to remember why we’re here. She needs to remember why she came. It will be easier to remind her once she’s actually come. “So are we agreed?”

“To share our sex lives?” she asks.

We might as well get this out of the way. “I need to know the women I sleep with are discreet. That they use good...judgment.”

She rolls her eyes, and I know it probably sounds ridiculous. “I’ve been with one guy. My college boyfriend. And I’m on The Pill.”

So I was right about her sexual history. Mine is a bit more diversified.

“What about you?” she presses.

“More than one.” I don’t need to tell her how many. She won’t like it. “I’m always cautious, and I can assure you that I’m clean.”

This earns me another frown. It’s cute, but I prefer the smile. “And that’s important because?”

“I felt it should be addressed before I took you to bed, and because I don’t think I can wait until we reach the suite.” I can’t keep my hands off her for another minute. Pushing her against the lift’s mirrored wall, I show her exactly what she’s agreed to as I tug down the straps of her dress. A primal sensation rises inside me and escapes from my throat when I catch sight of delicate lace caging her full tits. “Your breasts are more perfect than I’d imagined.”

She slumps against the wall a little, but true to form, she dares to ask me, “Should we do this in the elevator?”

I brush my index finger over her lips, thinking of all the things I’d like to do to her in this lift. “Oh poppet, I know what’s worrying you. You’re worried that I’ll get my quick fuck in the elevator.”

“I don’t want you to get bored with me before you even get me to the room.” Her voice is small, shrinking to hide from me.

“That won’t be a problem.” I trace her collarbone. I’m ready to kiss her—to taste her skin. To taste every inch of her. She obviously needs to be reminded of that. “Your body was made to fuck, Clara. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She barely manages to shake her head.

“It is,” I say. Men at Oxford University must be bloody stupid. They should have been bowing down to this woman, not sticking their noses in books. “I find it very inspiring. I don’t know if there are enough flat surfaces to ride you on in the suite. But if it would make you feel better—” I continue to work her skirt up until it’s bunched at her hips. With my other hand, I slide a finger past the waist of her knickers lower and lower until I find what I seek. “—we can wait and go upstairs.”

Her eyes slam shut as I circle her engorged clit. “We should...”

I take it as a compliment that she can’t finish the sentence.

“Perhaps I can offer a better solution.” I love listening to her little noises, but there’s something I want to do more. “I need to taste your sweet cunt, Clara. I’ve been thinking about it for days. Will you let me do that?”

There’s a moan mixed with permission, and I don’t wait for her to change her mind. I need to taste her. I need her on my tongue. My fingers close over the band of her thong and rend it cleanly. It snaps with ease, as delicate and easily broken as I hope she will be.

I drop to my knees and brush my hands down her thighs. “Spread wider,” I order, groaning silently when she acquiesces. “Beautiful.”

My hands move up, parting her so I can study her. Her skin there is silky and as soft as the delicate pink petals of a rosebud. I push a finger inside her, then another, enjoying the slick arousal I discover.

“Are you always this wet?” Fuck, I hope so.

I watch from between her legs as she shakes her head.

“Do I do this to you?” Is that too much to hope for? Because I’ll gladly do this to her over and over.

She nods, but it’s not enough. I want to hear her admit it. I want her to hand over that part of herself. “Say it, Clara.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what? What do I do to you?”

“You make me wet.” She moans, and my control nearly slips. I won’t take her here. There will be time for that later. I might want to destroy the last shreds of her modesty, but one matter at a time.

“Good girl,” I murmur. She deserves a reward, and I need to taste her. Leaning in, I find the rose-scent of her skin mingles sweetly on that delicate pink flesh as I draw my tongue over the swollen pink bud. Her hands splay against the wall as I lick her with slow deliberation. In this moment, she belongs to me.

I need her to remember that, though. Her breath is already quickening, her hips are bucking toward me. “Not until I say, poppet.”

Her whimper pushes me over the edge. I’ve been holding back, but I want to earn another moan, another little cry, another yes, please. I want to own Clara Bishop’s pleasure. I’m sure she’ll find I’m a generous master. But I need to prove it.

“Come,” I command before covering her with my mouth again. Her taste floods my tongue as pleasure rolls through her. I pause for a split second before continuing. She unravels again, and now my cock is becoming painfully aware of the situation. But even though aftershocks rock through her, I continue to nibble her clit like it’s my own private, fucking feast.

She comes twice. But that was with my mouth and hands. It feels like a challenge to take her over the edge again, especially with nothing more than my lips and tongue, but I’m game. I drag the orgasm from her, and her resistance makes it the most powerful.

“Now you’re ready for me to fuck you.” And God, am I ready to fuck her.

“Yes,” she whispers.

There’s no doubt. No hesitation. She’s given herself to me. I can’t keep the pleased smile from my face.