Page 70 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

She shakes her head, stumbling dizzily and catching herself on the vanity. My hands hover near her in case she loses her balance entirely. When she doesn’t, I stand, unable to wait any longer. My dick is so hard that it’s trying to escape my jeans.

In the mirror, I see her tongue swipe over her lower lip.

Fuck me. I fist my shaft. “Do you want this?”

She hesitates. Her answer is surprisingly shy. “No. I want your body.”

I freeze, realizing what she’s asking. She felt the scars. Now she wants to see them. How have I let this happen? Touching is one thing. Facing them is entirely different. “You don’t want that, Clara.”

“There’s no part of my body you don’t want, right?” She pauses, looking at me expectantly. I can’t believe she’s playing this card. “There’s no part of your body that I don’t want.”

If she really knew. “Clara—”

“I felt the scars. I know,” she says softly. “And I want you. All of you, X. Your body—all of it—makes me so fucking hot.”

The little minx has me, and she knows it. How can I argue with my own words? If I want to prove that I want every bit of her, I can’t keep my own body from her. Still, she doesn’t have any idea what she’s asking. I take off my trousers as she watches in the mirror. I hesitate when I reach for my black t-shirt, and Clara smiles. Slowly, I draw it over my head, revealing myself to her inch by inch. Her eyes go distant. She’s guarding herself like a woman approaching a wild animal. She must have some clue that I have a reason to hide this.

“All of you, X,” she urges.

I whip the shirt over my head, searching for any of the arrogance I usually feel in abundance and finding none. She scans over me, her face unreadable. The scars from my accident are brutal, refusing to fade with time. As I’d gotten older, they’d become worse as I filled out after years of military training and service.

Clara still says nothing, and I reach for her, grabbing her hips, needing some assurance that she can’t turn and flee from me. But when her eyes lift from my scars to my eyes, she whispers, “Take me, and don’t be gentle.”

I move my cock to her entrance and slowly breach her. She wants it rough, but I don’t trust myself. Not after she’s opened the cage that restrains me. I keep it locked for a reason. I rock into her, urging myself deeper until I’m fully inside her. Leaning down, I catch the curve of her neck, intending to kiss it. Instead, my teeth bite into her, and she gasps. I’m losing control. I try to dial it back.

Clara isn’t having it. She pulls free from my hands and folds over the sink, allowing my cock to slam deeper inside her. She moans, moving her hips to encourage me, her hands gripping the counter.

She’s giving herself to me, showing me what she thinks I need to heal. But this isn’t enough to tame me. It’s dangerous for her to think so. I close my eyes, unwilling to pretend that I’m anything more than damaged and angry and dangerous.

“Open your eyes, X,” she says firmly. “I want you to see what you do to me. I want you to see what I see.”

I can’t deny her, but I can’t hide the truth. She can’t heal me because some scars run deeper than the skin. She can see the ones on my flesh, but not the ones that twist my soul. I stare at her, wondering when she’ll realize how fucked up I am. She pushes her hips back into me. She might as well wave a red flag. Doesn’t she see how she’s provoking me? She thinks she wants it rough, but she has no idea what she’s asking of me—or herself. I have to show her before it’s too late. I grab a handful of her hair and jerk her up, so she’s forced to really look at me. She wants to see me. She needs to see the beast. She can’t look away, and I reveal my true self, pounding into her so hard I know it hurts. She gasps and grunts, her face wrenching with the sudden violence of my cock. But instead of begging me to stop, she tightens around me.

“Don’t stop,” she urges, breathless. “All of you. Give me all of you.”

I come with a violent surge that blasts from me so hard that she has to hold onto the counter.

She enjoyed it.

I have to make her see. I keep going, my cock remaining hard as it moves into her soaked cunt. I ignore how impossibly good it feels to fuck her when she’s full of me.

“Alexander,” she calls, discomfort running through her voice.

“Need…need…” But she needs to see—see the real me, the real danger of freeing me. She still has time to put me back in my cage because once I’m fully released, I’ll take her captive and never let her go. I’ll use her. I’ll control her. I’ll ruin her. Or my world will.

Clara manages to free herself and turns around, leaving my cock pulsing with unfinished business. As soon as she’s gone, I realize my mistake. I can’t punish her for my past. I have to protect her, and now I’ve pushed her too far. I need to show her that I can be gentle, that I can keep the dangerous part of me locked away.

“Brimstone,” she whispers.

No. Not now. I need her too much. “I need to be inside you.”

She shakes her head. Not like this. Not taking.

Together.

I wrap my arms around her and lift her to the counter. The pause gives me time to gather myself. I find my control. I find her. My cock is still hard, still desperate to be inside her. I tenderly move it across her swollen sex and watch her, hoping she understands this is about something else. She stares for a moment before wiggling her hips to slide herself over my cock.

I let her take the lead. I can’t help feeling like I’m coming home as I join with her. This isn’t about fucking. This is connection. She clings to me, her eyes locked with mine, and I know neither of us can deny everything between us has changed again. There’s no longer a path without her—there’s no future that exists outside of her and me. I don’t know how to do this. She has to show me how.