Page 12 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

She sways as I let her go. “I probably should.”

Clara studies me for a moment like I’m a puzzle she can’t piece together. I want to take her hands and guide them to all my parts. I want her to put me back together. I want to be the man she hopes to see now.

But that’s impossible. “You asked if I would hurt you, Clara. I can’t lie and say that I won’t. I want nothing more than to strip you bare and pin you to that wall. Hold you there until you beg for my cock, and when I finally give it to you, you’ll beg me never to stop.”

Despite my intentions, I step toward her. I’m trying to give her a choice, but even I don’t know what it is. I’m warning her away. I’m asking her to stay. I tell myself that I don’t know what I want, but it’s a lie.

I don’t want Clara to walk out that door.

I run a hand through my hair, shaking the thought from my head. It’s unfair to do this to her—to drag her into my life when I can’t be what she needs. “But if I do that, it will only ruin you.”

“This isn’t an old novel,” she retorts, but I hear the way her words break like I’m breaking her. “I’m not a hapless virgin.”

I don’t think. I need her to see that I want her, but that I’m giving her up because… I grab her and pull her against me. “I’ve thought about your lips all day. I’ve pictured you on your knees with that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock, sucking me off. If I had you now, I would want more. Once wouldn’t be enough. But enough is something a man like me can never have.”

“Because I’m not royalty?” she asks, her lashes fluttering like I’ve overwhelmed her with my mood swings. The feeling is mutual.

“I think they’d be more pissed that you’re American, but really no one cares about that,” I say darkly. I try to smile, but it can’t ease the situation I’ve created. How had I expected this to end? “Because nothing beautiful can survive around me. Do you understand that? They’ll destroy you, and if they don’t, eventually I will.”

“Maybe I can take care of myself.” She twists in my grip, but I hold her. I’m not ready to let her go. Not yet.

“Maybe you can,” I admit. “But don’t tempt me into risking it. I can’t be held responsible.”

I drop my hold on her, hoping she’ll leave before I change my mind. Instead, her hand shoots out, and she grabs my shirt. The growl I’ve been holding back escapes as our lips meet, and I feel Clara shiver. Her body feels so fucking amazing in my arms. I want to explore it, and I slip a tongue into her mouth in invitation. When she accepts, I slide my hands down and lift her off her feet. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, giving her a preview of what’s to come. She has no idea all the places I plan to explore. She’s strong, but there’s a natural submissiveness to her. I feel it in how her legs wrap around my waist and how her body molds to mine like she can fit herself into my life. I want it to be true. If only so I could take her now. Clara’s hips rock against me, and I know she wants release. Her movements are urgent, as raw and vulnerable as she is. Even as I continue to taste her mouth, I know the truth.

She may not be a virgin, but she might as well be. She’s never been fucked by a man like me. She has no idea what to expect, and as much as I want to show her exactly how good it feels to be owned, she might not be ready. My hand reaches for her ponytail, and I pull until her mouth breaks free of mine.

“This is your last chance,” I warn. I can feel her slipping under my control. She’s going to be mine. And then pain flickers through her eyes.

“No,” she whispers.

I don’t want to let her go. I want to kiss her until her no becomes a yes. I’d seen it there. What changed? Lowering her to her feet, I spot the tremble of her legs, but I don’t trust myself to steady her.

“You’re a smart girl.” I pause, wanting to ask her why. Instead, I kiss her forehead. One final taste. “Norris will see you home safely, and I’ll have my people work on getting rid of those reporters.”

“Thank you.” The regret I feel coats her words.

“Goodbye, Clara Bishop.” I stop myself from telling her I don’t want her to go.

She backs away from me as though she can’t trust me not to follow her. When she reaches the door, there’s nothing left to say except one thing. “Goodbye.”

The glass panel closes behind her, and I force myself to stay here. In this room. In this spot. It’s more difficult than I’d imagined. Maybe that’s because this is the second time we’ve walked away from each other. Maybe because this time she said no. I respect that. At least, I want to. I’ve almost fooled myself into thinking I could let her go. I’m out the door and on my way down the stairs before I realize I can’t.

I can’t explain it—to myself or her. But I’ll make her understand.

Clara Bishop belongs to me.