Page 84 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

“Believe me, I noticed.” I dismount, ready to throw her over the saddle if necessary—no matter how barbaric the gesture. Pulling on my helmet, I toss it to a waiting servant. “I need to get you away from these bloody people. I want you all to myself.”

“Where are you taking me?” She takes my hand, and I know I have her. Blessed relief washes over me.

But we’re still on display. I need to get her away from the prying eyes all around us. They were all asking that question, too. “You’re asking the wrong question.”

“I am?” She bats her lashes at me, and the innocent gesture fans the primal instinct I’m trying to keep under control.

At least until I have her alone. “You should be asking what I’m going to do to you.”

That gets her full attention. Her mouth drops open, giving me even more wicked ideas.

“Ever heard of the term saddle sore?” I continue. “If I don’t ride off with you right now in front of all these people, tonight they’re going to wonder why you’re walking so strangely.”

She blinks as if she’s processing what I mean. I watch as it becomes clear. “So the ride is an alibi?”

“It’s all part of what I plan to do to you.” I yank her to me before she can concoct another question and silence any further objections with a kiss. There’s no further resistance when I lift her onto the saddle. She carefully arranges herself, pushing her skirt under her sumptuous ass—as if that will do her a bit of good. The truth is that I want her to be sore and raw. I want to see her delicate skin red and tender because then I can make her feel things she never imagined, even in her wildest fantasies. A gamekeeper appears to collect my gear. I think better of giving him the riding crop. I’m not certain how Clara might respond, but today, after everything, I can’t help considering its use. My balls ache as I consider what it feels like to take it to her. I pass the rifle to the waiting gamekeeper before mounting the horse behind her. Wrapping one hand over the reins, I coil my other arm around her waist. She settles against me, and it’s as though a missing piece locks into place.

“Alexander!” My father’s sharp voice slices through the moment. “We have guests.”

“Clara is my guest,” I say, uninterested in pursuing another fight with him. “I’m taking her to see the grounds. We’ll be back for dinner.”

He scans her with disapproval. “I expect you to be properly dressed at the table.”

“C’mon,” I say gruffly, hating him more for making her feel inferior. He’d done the same to me my whole life, but it’s different somehow when he does it to Clara. I needed to get her away from him, from all of it. I press the horse faster until it’s behind us: the house, the expectations, the family. I don’t slow until we reach a valley that dips low, obscuring the estate. It was June, but the country air held the remnants of spring this afternoon. The skies overhead were grey, even though there was no other sign of an impending rain shower. Then again, out here, a storm could strike at any moment with even less warning.

“Beautiful,” Clara whispers, and I wish I could see the world through her eyes.

I can see her, however. In my arms, she’s all I see, and I have to agree. “Yes.”

“You have me all alone,” she says, settling into my embrace. “What are you going to do to me?”

I allow a breathy laugh as I move to kiss the freckles on her neck. “Not yet, poppet.”

Instead of relaxing, though, she goes rigid. I tighten my hold on her, assessing where things have gone wrong. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I nearly forgot that she spent the morning in a den of vipers.

“You’re unhappy,” I finally realize.

There’s a pause before she nods. “I don’t belong here.”

“Oh poppet.” It’s a feeling I know all too well. “Neither do I.”

There’s no escaping it for me, though. If I can stop being so selfish, she might still escape. Except I am selfish, and no part of me wants her to break free. “But you are wrong about one thing. You do belong here with me.”

Clara spins in the saddle, twisting her body so she can claim my lips. Does she sense that I belong to her as much as she belongs to me? Judging from the reckless hunger in her kiss, she must.

“So are you going to take me for a roll in the hay?” she asks when we break apart.

“I’m planning much more depraved things. And I’ll start by…” I slide my hands from her waist under her skirt, stopping on the elastic lace of her knickers. “You are such a tease in this little skirt. I’ve had blue balls all morning thinking about your barely covered thighs. Do you know what it’s like to spend the whole day hiding an erection from half the monarchy?”

“I can’t say that I do,” she says breathlessly.

“Exactly.” I rip them off her, sliding the ruins lace roughly from her and shoving it in my pocket. It feels like a trophy, but she’s the true prize. I lift the back of her skirt and examine my reward appreciatively. “This gives a whole new meaning to bareback.”

Her body softens in submission, waiting for me to take her. But I’m not ready for this to end. I want to tease her. I want to torture her. I want to make every nerve in her body sing with hopeful arousal.

Pressing my heel into the horse’s side, I urge us forward slowly. Her bare skin slaps against the leather. There’s a slightly wet smack with each beat of the hooves beneath us. I resist the urge to stop and bury myself inside her slick heat. It’s harder to resist the temptation when she starts to squirm. Her hips trying to signal that she wants my hand to move from its place on her belly to the want between her legs.

I grind my cock into her backside instead, knowing this will both drive her wilder but also let her know she’s not alone in her desperation.