X: Command Me through Alexander's Eyes - Geneva Lee Page 0,49

who deserves more—more than I can give her, more than I can ever be. I suspect that if I spend every day trying to achieve the bare minimum of what a woman like Clara should expect, I still will come up short.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t have my little fantasy. Imagine what it might be like to have her under my control completely. She told me she can never do that, so that’s all this will remain—a sick dream from my bastard brain. It might only be in my head, but my cock isn’t getting the memo. Visions of Clara bound and helpless draw my mind away from my seething anger, sending the blood boiling inside me straight to my cock.

By the time we reach her flat, I’m rock hard and over-heated. I toss my tuxedo jacket in the seat. Norris opens the driver’s door, but I wave him off.

He might not be responsible for what happened this evening—I believe the fault lies entirely with my family—but I might take it out on him all the same. I’d rather not.

“I’m going to stay the night,” I inform him.

“Sir,” he starts.

I hold up a hand. “Many Londoners stay the night at their girlfriends’ flats.”

Two could act casual.

He lifts a bushy eyebrow as his mouth flattens into a thin line. I can’t decide if he’s annoyed at the not-so-subtle dig or trying not to laugh.

“Let me do something normal,” I say quietly.

“I’m not certain showing up to Miss Bishop’s house in a limousine after a ball is terribly normal,” he says. That settles it. He’s trying not to laugh. “I’ll leave you to it.”

I have no doubt he’ll be parked around the corner all night, watching. There’s no sense in fighting him about it, though.

I take the stairs to Clara’s flat two at a time. I don’t know if I want to kiss her or shake her. I definitely need to fuck her.

The only trouble is: she’s not there.

An hour passes—or maybe a few minutes. I can’t tell. I’ve managed to convince Norris to go back and look for her, but he left reluctantly. He’s going to need to get used to prioritizing her safety over mine because she’s much more important, at least in my book. Every creak in the old building, every tenant moving about in their flat sets me on edge. When I finally hear soft footsteps on the stairs, my entire body goes rigid. It’s her. I know it. I can feel it. Still, relief floods through me when her silhouette appears in the stairwell, her shoulders slumping downward, shoes in hand.

“Clara.” Her name tastes wonderful on my lips. She’s here. She’s safe. She starts at the sound of my voice and drops her shoes. For a second, she stares at me with a strange expression.

It’s just long enough for my relief to turn to anger. What was she thinking? Walking through London alone? Leaving without a word?

She must sense my rage because she scampers toward the door, keeping her eyes turned from me.

“Where have you been?” I demand. She’s not getting away from this that easily. I’ve got her back against the door before she can find her keys. She looks tired, not just from the hour, though. There’s a sadness in her eyes that twists my insides. One night with my family. That’s all it took to hurt her this badly.

“Walking,” she says wearily.

It still doesn’t excuse how stupid she’s been. I rake a hand through my hair to keep myself from shaking her. Can’t she see that things are different now? “You leave without a word, and then you walk home?”

“You pushed me away,” she whispers, something dangerous sparking in her low voice. “I didn’t run. I made the choice to leave.”

And now she’s challenging me. I can’t blame her exactly. It’s one of the things that draws me to her. She doesn’t wait around to be kicked by anyone—not even the King and his courtiers. But I’m not them. Why can’t she see that? “You came with me. I expected you to leave with me. I need to know where you are. That’s not a request, Clara.”

“I’m not a child. I can take care of myself,” she snaps.

“That was before,” I say. How do I ask her to change and stay the same? How do I help her see that choosing me was dangerous? That she has to think more than she did before? “You made a choice, Clara, and when you did