The New York Times and USA Today Bestselling series continues...
As the world tried to tear us apart, Alexander fought for me, claiming me as his own. I belong to him—body, heart, and soul. I found strength in his dominance. In his control. In his love. Still I could always feel it: the darkness creeping toward our joy, threatening to overcome us. But I never imagined it would end like this. I thought I knew what marrying Alexander meant to my life. To my independence. To us. I was wrong. Ripped apart by tragedy, fighting for love, Clara and Alexander face their darkest hour in the stunning conclusion to their saga…
Command Me
Alexander circled around me, and I felt like prey under his ferocious gaze. He could protect me—or tear me limb from limb—and from the faint smile playing on his lips, I wasn't sure he'd decided which he was more likely to do. He stopped behind me, leaning close, his lips brushing against my ear. “If you knew what was good for you, you would run.”
My mouth went dry even as my panties grew wet. “Am I in danger?”
“People around me tend to get hurt,” he whispered, his breath hot on my neck.
My thoughts flashed to the dozens of women he’d picked up since he’d returned home. I couldn’t recall seeing any of them photographed with him more than once. Had he charmed them into his bed only to discard them by morning? Something about his words struck a warning chord in me though.
“Will you hurt me?” The words felt like a dare rather than a question.
“You’ve been reading the tabloids,” he said. “Don’t believe everything you read, Clara. I have never done anything to a woman that she hasn’t asked for…begged for.”
I spun around to face him. I wasn’t certain if I was angry with him for being so cocky—or if I was mad at myself for being so turned on. But my questions died on my lips as I found myself fighting hard against the dizzying effect he had on me. It was unfair that his power was coupled with such a godlike face.
I took a deep breath, refusing to look away from him. “Do you like that? Do you like women to beg?”
He loosed a low, gruff laugh that made my core clench. “I enjoy making women ask for more. I enjoy making them whimper and cry out and call my name, and I’d very much enjoy making you beg.”
“I’m not really the begging type,” I said, even though my words were as weak as my resolve was becoming.
“You could be,” Alexander said. “I can see it in your eyes: the desire to be commanded and taken. You’ll enjoy it when I fuck you.”
Yes, please.
Alexander trailed a finger down to my collarbone, and my body tightened in anticipation, recalling my dream. Then his fingers curled around my neck, his touch light but assertive. He was in control, and when he drew me closer, I molded into him instinctively. I could feel his cock pressed against my belly, and my body responded with a twinge that tingled through my nerves until my sex felt swollen and ready. I waited for him to make a move, no longer a slave to conscience or rational thought. Instead, a hundred scenarios played out in my mind. Over the table. On the couch. Against the glass window. He could have me any way he would take me.
But instead he withdrew from me. “You should go.”
His sudden rejection rocked through me, nearly knocking me off my feet. I swayed, momentarily disoriented by the abrupt shift in his demeanor. “I probably should.”
A man like this—one that confused me and mesmerized me, thrilled me and terrified me—was no good for me. I forced myself to consider that even though I was crushed, Alexander was bad news. I’d known that all along, so why was I here now?
Alexander turned from me, hiding his blue eyes and the deep secrets reflecting beneath their smoldering surface. “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.”
Again he moved closer and I felt his heat radiating from him. It seeped into me, making my blood broil. The passion coursed through my veins, heating my flesh and slowly engulfing my senses until there was only him.
He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “But if I do that, it will only ruin you.”
“This isn’t an old novel,” I snapped, hoping he didn’t catch the break in my voice. “I’m not a hapless virgin.”
His hand flew out and caught my arm, pulling me against him roughly. “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 more is something a man like me can never have.”
“Because I’m not royalty?” I asked, feeling daft for even suggesting something so antiquated. I knew this wasn’t a game. He wanted me—almost as much as I wanted him. A man like Alexander could have anything he desired, so why push me away now?
“I think they'd be more pissed that you're American, but really no one cares about that,” he said with a dark smile. It faded from his lips, but the darkness remained in his features. “Because nothing beautiful can survive around me. Do you understand that? They’ll destroy you, and if they don’t, eventually I will.”
His assumption that I couldn’t handle him had me furious at a level I found hard to express. Apparently, he wasn’t only arrogant when it came to his conquests, he was also full of himself when it came to all women.
“Maybe I can take care of myself.” I twisted away from him, but his grip remained firm.
“Maybe you can,” he admitted. “But don’t tempt me into risking it. I can’t be held responsible.”
He dropped his hold of me then and I saw the dare in his crystal blue eyes. He wanted me to run. He expected me to run. Instead my hand shot out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down until our lips met. A growl vibrated through his body as our tongues met, and I shivered both at the sound and at the primal urgency of his touch. His hands slid down, cupping my ass and lifting me off the ground as the kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping across my teeth before it thrust inside my mouth, drawing out mine. He sucked it slowly until my legs wrapped more tightly around his hips, my body desperately searching for relief from the mounting pressure in my core. Despite our clothing, I circled against his hard cock, rocking against it when I found the right spot. Somewhere my sensible side, no longer able to stay silent, began admonishing me, her tone shocked and her eyes wide.
Shut up, I commanded her.
Still holding me up, Alexander’s hand drifted up and caught my ponytail, tugging it back so that my lips broke from his.
“This is your last chance,” he warned. His eyes burned into me, but once again I felt frozen—totally under his control.
Geneva Lee prefers fantasy to reality, especially fantasies involving powerful, dangerous, and sexy men. You can find her devouring a good romance while avoiding the laundry and the children. She lives in Seattle with her family.
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