Page 51 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

“What message do you think it sends for me to bring a date to my father’s birthday?” I stop her.

Her words fall away, leaving her mouth hanging open as she processes this. I’m as surprised as she is by what I’ve said, but I do my best not to show it.

Is that where this is going? Is that what I want? One look at her, and I know I don’t want it. Not because I don’t want her. I suspect I’ll always crave Clara Bishop. Because I don’t want her to live this life.

“We barely know each other.”

“That might be true,” I admit, “but we’ve been linked publicly, and after those texts were published today, people are going to make assumptions.”

She needs to know what she’s getting into. I thought I’d made that clear before. Now, I’m no longer certain.

“What kind of assumptions?” she explodes. “I really don’t give a fuck what people who read TMI think of me!”

I study her for a moment, wondering if I can tell her a pretty lie instead of the ugly truth. I stand a better shot of keeping her if I do, but I can’t. She needs to know, even if it means losing her. “It won’t just be TMI’s leak for long. There will be more legitimate news sources reporting on it. I live in the public eye, Clara.”

“Why?” she asks bluntly. “Why did you bring me tonight? You knew that assumptions would be made. It’s hardly the first time you’ve been caught with your pants down. Why give them more to gossip about?”

So much depends on my answer. This is my chance to lie. To tell her that I hadn’t considered it and we needed to end things. Or to tell her that she’s reading too much into this evening and let her believe that I’m an overprotective wanker.

Instead, the truth spills out.“Because I want to protect you. I need to protect you. I can’t explain it, because I don’t understand it. Maybe it’s a compulsion.”

And it’s not enough. I will never be enough to protect her from this life. I will never give her enough to make up for what they’re going to take from her. There’s not enough of me to be what she deserves, and I know it.

“Compulsions generally aren’t healthy,” she whispers, the challenge gone from her voice. I find comfort there now.

And even knowing all the ways I’ll fail her, I know now that it’s too late. She’s mine to watch over. It doesn’t matter if I do it with her in my arms or from a distance. I will always protect her. I brush a finger along her delicate cheek, marveling at the sheer wonder of everything she is to me. “This compulsion is. You can push me away, Clara, and I’ll still devote myself to protecting you.”

How can one person make you feel alive at the same time that they torment you? How can someone fill a void that never existed before you met them? How can she be the answer to every question I’ve never asked?

Clara stares into my eyes like she’s trying to read my thoughts, and before I can wonder what she’s thinking, my mouth finds hers. She collides into me with a force that leaves no room for more questions. I become something primal. I’m no longer a man frozen in contemplation. I am in motion. I want. I take. I lift her off her feet, and we slam against the wall. I need more of her, so I take it. Turning, I press her body against the brick and capture her tongue. I taste her, but it’s not enough. Setting her on her feet, I kneel and shove her skirt to her hips.

This is where I belong: kneeling before her, giving her pleasure, earning her.

“Spread your legs, poppet.” I kiss her soft thighs, already breathing in her scent. Holding her to the wall, I continue my devotions until her fingers grab hold of my hair.

“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth, and I want to hear you come. I want you to let go,” I order. It’s met with a pleading whimper. I love the little sounds she makes—the anticipation in each one. I love the ones she makes when she comes even more, though. I push her legs apart, wanting more and taking more with each stroke of my tongue. Her body stills, tightening, and I know she’s at the edge. I close my mouth over her clit and suck it until it throbs.

She’s speaking, but I can’t hear her. There’s only one thing that matters. I pin her against the wall harder and continue to pleasure her. Stroking. Sucking. Thrusting. I’ve found my calling—the reason that I exist—and it’s here between her legs.

Her release is violent. It overpowers her. My hand anchors her. My tongue centers her. For one moment, I am her whole world, too.

As the tremors fade, I become aware of myself again—or, at least, the painful hardness of my cock. I need her naked. Now. Standing, I take her handbag and find the keys. Clara slumps against the wall while I unlock her flat. Kicking the door open, I lift her into my arms. We make it as far as the kitchen counter.

I lay her across it as I unbuckle my belt then my trousers. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

“Wait.”

I have her for the rest of the night, so I’m able to pause.

She scoots off the counter and reaches for her zipper. A moment later, her dress flutters to the ground and pools at her feet. Clara sinks her teeth into her lower lip as she stands before me naked, offering herself to me. I take her again, lifting her into my arms and carrying her to the wall. Her legs circle me as she bucks against my groin. She pushes down my pants, and I step carefully out of them, my cock already pushing against her soaked sex.

“Slowly,” I remind her as I nudge her entrance. “Now, poppet.”

She does as she’s told, sinking onto my shaft with teasing slowness until she’s skewered. As soon as she’s taken all of me, she thrusts her hips like she’s hitting a power button.

I force myself not to laugh at her impatience. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She grabs hold of my hair and pulls. “I thought you liked that.”