"You're not the dangerous one..." View in browser

Hello Love,
Confession: this chapter almost didn't make it! I should have known when one kid came down with a cold, the other would follow--and sure enough, now I've gotten it! Let's just hope I didn't miss a bunch of typos. Somehow, I think you'll forgive me when you see this scene through Alexander's eyes ;)

I planned on sharing all sorts of news with you at the end of this email, but the cold meds are kicking in, so I guess you'll have to wait a little longer for all the amazing announcements I have coming. 

XOXO,

G

P.S.  Remember, if you missed a chapter, you can click on new "past issues" in the toolbar to read them!

Part 5

An understanding

I play it safe and book my favorite suite at my favorite hotel. Then, I have a fresh suit delivered. The last thing I want is to return to the palace and the sham of a life being forced on me. It’s easy to sleep. Tomorrow Clara won’t merely exist in my dreams. She’ll be in my arms.

When Norris phones to say he’s on the way the following morning, I head down to meet her. It’s best to do it like this before I can talk myself out of it. Because as much as I want to take her to bed, I know this is a mistake. Even with all my precautions, we might get caught. The lift doors slide open, revealing her and erasing my doubts.. She’s wearing a long, blue dress that covers too much of her body while also clinging to her perfect curves. She’s a walking wet dream and I wonder what I’ll find when I strip away the veneer of propriety she’s worn since we met. I’ve seen glimpses of something primal and responsive when I touched her before. She submitted naturally to my kiss. 

And then she said no. 

Clara Bishop is a mystery I want to solve if only so I can make her unravel.

With my mouth.

With my hands.

With my cock.

I know she wants that, too, because she stares at me with wide, innocent eyes that dare me to show her a world she’s never known. 

“Clara.” Holding out my hand, I wait for her to cross a line she’s never strayed past. She’s not the type to sleep with a man she barely knows. Maybe that’s why I want to fuck her so badly, but I suspect one taste of her won’t be enough. I have to stop myself from licking my lips at the thought, and when she takes my hand I nearly drag her into the lift where I can finally do just that. 

Instead, she follows me to it with a trust I don’t deserve, but the moment the doors shut behind her—the moment I finally have her to myself—she whips around like a wild animal who’s fallen into a trap.

“Is something wrong?” Have I misread the situation? A moment ago she seemed so willing, as certain of this as I am. Now, she’s staring at those doors like she’s made a terrible mistake.

“I should have said thank you to Norris. It was rude of me.”

Her horror steals a smile from me because it’s the last thing I expect her to say and somehow it proves that she’s as civilized as I’d imagined. But Clara is different than the false friends I’ve known my whole life, she seems genuinely upset with herself. 

Norris is more my friend than most people who boast the title publicly. It means something that she sees him—that she remembers his name. Still, I’m not about to let her obsess over it not when we’re finally alone.

“I’m sure the salary I pay him makes up for any perceived impoliteness on your part.”

“It was still rude.” She frowns before determination sets in. “Please give him my apologies for my behavior as well as my thanks.”

I make a note to do just that. For some reason, I want Norris to like her. Probably, since he’ll be shuttling her around. I don’t think one day with Clara is going to get her out my system. 

Her frown fades into that artless vulnerability that drew me to her that day at the club. She’s overthinking things like she did when she told me no at Brimstone. “I thought perhaps you’d come to your senses.”

I don’t mean to say it. Somehow I keep warning her, but like last time, it only pulls her closer. In the enclosed space, the scent of roses dances across the air. “Have you come to yours?”

“You’re not the dangerous one.” I take a step toward her, wanting to breath her in deeper, but she’s the one that inhales sharply.

“Maybe I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

I think I want that as much as I want her to be the innocent lamb. I want to see every side that she hides from the world. “I guess I’ll have to strip you and find out.”

“Where are we?” she asks, looking around the lift for clues. It’s a charmingly naive question. 

Where does she think we are? I thought I’d been clear about my intentions to fuck her until she could barely stand. Or maybe she knows where we are but is clinging to a modesty I plan to systematically destroy over the next few hours.

“The Westminster Royal,” I tell her.

“Swanky hotel.” She sounds impressed, which pleases me. Partially, because I rather like their suites, but mostly, because I want to rip her knickers off.

“They appreciate their guests’ privacy, which is something I appreciate.”

“Do you check in under a false identity and leave under the cover of night?” There’s laughter in her question that she doesn’t let loose, so I laugh instead.

“It’s not quite so clandestine as that. Although most of the staff only knows me as Mr. X.”

“Does that make me Mrs. X for the day?” She claps a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening as she realizes what she's said.

She doesn't expect my reaction. I don't either.

“I rather like the sound of that." Too much, and I'm not sure why. I study her for a moment as if I might find the answer written across her face. Instead, I only see her nerves coupled with want, and for some reason, I need to reassure her, which is why I say the last thing I should. “Mrs. X. She sounds rather wicked.”

Her tongue darts over her lips and I'm reminded of one of the many fantasies I've entertained about what she might do with that perfect mouth.

"Are you okay with that? With this arrangement, I mean." I check myself before she gets the wrong idea and ignore that I seem to be getting the wrong idea myself.

This can only end one way.

With a number of mind-blowing orgasms over the course of a few days, a week, maybe longer. But whatever lines we cross, there’s one firm boundary I’ll make sure we both respect. 

“I hadn’t expected...” 

“A hotel?” I want to explain that it’s for the best. It’s harder to get attached to a temporary bed. A hotel offers an anonymity of heart that keeps things from getting complicated. It’s why I didn’t go home with her last night. It’s why I didn’t see her to the door. We’re here for one reason. A hotel is a reminder of what that is. 

It’s also protection against the paparazzi that are still stalking her flat. I don’t want her to have to fend them off. That’s my burden, and one she doesn’t need to bear.

“Yes.” She doesn’t meet my eyes and I realize she’s trembling.

I don’t know if I’ve upset her or scared her or if its just nerves, but I need to. Taking her chin in my hands, I direct her gaze to mine and nearly lose myself in the gray ocean of her eyes.  “I wanted to be certain that no one found out about this.”

Clara wrenches away from me, turning toward the doors like she’s hoping they’ll open. What then? What did I say?

“What is it?” I press closer afraid that the lift will reach its destinations and I’ll finally lose her. “Why are you looking like I’ve got you in a corner?”

“I have a little self-respect, you know.” She glares at me and I try to keep my eyes on her face even as her nipples bead under her dress. Is she responding because she’s angry? Because that’s…fucking hot. My cock notices, too, and I shift my feet, trying to give it room in my slacks. “If you’re worried about being seen with me, perhaps it’s best that you let me off.”

“I can’t.” I’m suddenly glad I chose this hotel with its private lift. 

She crosses her arms, covering the proof of her arousal. “Try.”

“This lift only goes to the Presidential Suite. I can’t let you off until we reach it, but...” I press the red button she’d eyed a moment ago, calling her bluff. The lift shudders to a stop and she stumbles against me. “I think you’ve misunderstood me, and I’m not interested in taking a woman to bed who thinks I’m a liar.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“With pleasure.” I want her to understand this and if I have to spend the rest of the afternoon convincing her in this lift than she’ll find I can be quite persuasive. “I was under the impression you wanted the paparazzi to leave you alone.”

I pause and let this sink in. Clara shrugs her thin shoulders, unwilling to concede that she had wanted that only yesterday. Now I know one more thing: my girl is stubborn.

“I wanted to respect your desire for privacy,” I push. “By now, you’ll have done your research on me.”

She nods. Clara might not have known who I was when we first met, but that won’t be the case anymore. I have no doubt that we’ve both done our research. But while my intel is based on fact, I imagine what she’s read about me is a little more colorful.

“Reporters love to take photos of me with women and speculate on our relationships. Old friends become new flames. Waitresses become flings.”

“So you didn’t sleep with all those women?” she asks.

I bite back a smile. There’s no need to lie. “Not all of them.”

“Lovely.”

“I believe you told me that you weren’t a hapless virgin.” She wants to run, but I won’t let her. I back her against the wall and cage her between my arms. I won’t force her to do something she doesn’t want to do, but I will make her listen. “I assume we can be open about our sex lives.”

“We can.”

“Good, because I want you to be open with me, Clara. I’ll have you either way, but you’ll enjoy it more if you aren’t busy thinking I’m a dick.”

Her smile is a bit grudging, but bright.

“A smile. Now that’s lovely. I wonder if I’ll see that after you come when you’re still full of me.” She needs to remember why we’re here. She needs to remember why she came. It will be easier to remind her once she’s actually come. “So are we agreed?” 

“To share our sex lives?” she asks.

We might as well get this out of the way. “I need to know the women I sleep with are discreet. That they use good...judgment.”

She rolls her eyes and I know it probably sounds ridiculous. “I’ve been with one guy. My college boyfriend. And I’m on The Pill.”

So I was right about her sexual history. Mine is a bit more diversified.

“What about you?” she presses.

“More than one.” I don’t need to tell her how many. She won’t like it. “I’m always cautious, and I can assure you that I’m clean.”

This earns me another frown. It’s cute, but I prefer the smile. “And that’s important because?”

“I felt it should be addressed before I took you to bed, and because I don’t think I can wait until we reach the suite.” I can’t keep my hands off her for another minute. Pushing her against the lift’s mirrored wall, I show her exactly what she’s agreed to as I tug down the straps of her dress. A primal sensation rises inside me and escapes from my throat when I catch sight of delicate lace caging her full tits. “Your breasts are more perfect than I’d imagined.”

She slumps against the wall a little, but true to form, she dares to ask me, “Should we do this in the elevator?”

I brush my index finger over her lips, thinking of all the things I’d like to do to her in this lift. “Oh poppet, I know what’s worrying you. You’re worried that I’ll get my quick fuck in the elevator.”

“I don’t want you to get bored with me before you even get me to the room.” Her voice is small, shrinking to hide from me.

“That won’t be a problem.” I trace her collarbone. I’m ready to kiss her—to taste her skin. To taste every inch of her. She obviously needs to be reminded of that. “Your body was made to fuck, Clara. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She barely manages to shake her head. 

“It is,” I say. Men at Oxford University must be bloody stupid. They should have been bowing down to this woman not sticking their noses in books. “I find it very inspiring. I don’t know if there are enough flat surfaces to ride you on in the suite. But if it would make you feel better—” I continue to work her skirt up until it’s bunched at her hips. With my other hand, I slide a finger past the waist of her knickers lower and lower until I find what I seek. “—we can wait and go upstairs.”

Her eyes slam shut as I circle her engorged clit.  “We should...”

I take it as a compliment that she can’t finish the sentence.

“Perhaps I can offer a better solution.” I love listening to her little noises, but there’s something I want to do more. “I need to taste your sweet cunt, Clara. I’ve been thinking about it for days. Will you let me do that?”

There’s a moan mixed with permission, and I don’t wait for her to change her mind. I need to taste her. I need her on my tongue. My fingers close over the band of her thong and rend it cleanly. It snaps with ease as delicate and easily broken as I hope she’ll prove.

I drop to my knees and brush my hands down her thighs. “Spread wider,” I order, groaning silently when she acquiesces. “Beautiful.”

My hands move up, parting her so I can study her. Her skin there is silky and soft as petals and the delicate pink of a rosebud. I push a finger inside her, then another, enjoying the slick arousal I discover.

“Are you always this wet?” Fuck, I hope so.

I watch from between her legs as she shakes her head.

“Do I do this to you?” Is that too much to hope for? Because I’ll gladly do this to her over and over.

She nods, but it’s not enough. I want to hear her admit it. I want her to hand over that part of herself. “Say it, Clara.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what? What do I do to you?” 

“You make me wet.” She moans and my control nearly slips. I won’t take her here. There will be time for that later. I might want to destroy the last shreds of her modesty but one matter at a time.

“Good girl,” I murmur. She deserves a reward and I need to taste her. Leaning in, I find the rose-scent of her skin mingles sweetly on that delicate pink flesh as I draw my tongue over the swollen pink bed. Her hands splay against the wall as I lick her with slow deliberation. I’ve waited for this and in this moment, she belongs to me.

I need her to remember that though. Her breath is already quickening, her hips are bucking toward me. “Not until I say, poppet.”

Her whimper pushes me over the edge.I’ve been holding back, but I want to earn another moan, another little cry, another yes, please. I want to own Clara Bishop’s pleasure. I’m sure she’ll find that I’ll be a generous master. Now I need to prove it.

“Come,” I command before covering her with my mouth again. Her taste floods my tongue as pleasure rolls through her. I pause for a split second before continuing. She unravels again and now my cock is becoming painfully aware of the situation. But even though aftershocks rock through her, I continue to nibble her clit like it’s my own private, fucking feast.

She’s come twice but that was with my hands and mouth. It feels like a challenge to take her over the edge again, especially with nothing more than my lips and tongue, but I’m game for it. I drag the orgasm from her, but her resistance makes it the most powerful. 

“Now you’re ready for me to fuck you.” And God, am I ready to fuck her.

“Yes,” she whispers.

There’s no doubt. No hesitation. She’s given herself to me. I can’t keep the pleased smile from my face.

A Visit to the Amazon Spheres

Next week, I have surprises in store for you here! Because we're coming up on the FIFTH anniversary of Command Me! For now, here's some pics of the Amazon spheres I took when I toured the Amazon offices the other day! It was amazing-- and yeah, they're pretty much building a rainforest in the heart of Seattle.  mean, it is AMAZON, right?

If you like these little updates, make sure you follow me on Instagram or Facebook for more daily updates. See you next week with more X!

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