Catherine’s POV I barely recover from the force slam of his German door when he pinned my back against the door, hinging one hand on the door and fiercely gripping my hip with the other. “I am not a patient man Catherine Kent and I hate to be dissed. If I tell you to be in my bed naked, I expect you to be in my bed naked” My heart sprints under my chest, holding his piercing gaze “Do you understand?” The heat from his low husk feathers my ear and my breath starts to skitter from my mouth. I gasp when I feel his hand slice my thighs apart; I am hot between my legs and he has not even touched me yet. I suck in a deep breath, biting down on my bottom lip. He narrows his eyes at me with a low growl and I snap my lip out immediately. I plaster my palms to the door as his hand slides up my peach mini dress, to the apex of my thighs. “Uhn!” My jaw drops in a loud yelp when he shoves a finger into me, forcing my hands off the door to plaster his shoulders. “Every time I call; y
Catherine’s POV It doesn't exist, it’s all in your head- a soft still voice in my head would say each time I scribbled into my forbidden diary. It only exists in your imaginations and the pages of your romance novels, never in real life Catherine- the still voice always said each time I wrote out a wild sexual desire of mine but she was wrong, dead wrong. It did exist, a pleasure so wild, so dangerous, so awakening, so intense, so crude, so maddening, the dangerous paradise of pleasure existed and Alexander Clifford just proved it. My body still tingled from the tantalizing feelings of Alexander’s touch; my skin still recited every rhythm of his plunge and my nerves still shivered from the remnants of the stimulus. My goddess was pleased but I, Catherine Kent, daughter of Dominic Kent was weak; weak to every bone in my body from the shattering heights of pleasure; pleasure, a two edged sword both tantalizing and wrecking. Serves me right! I finally got a taste of the wild and I
Catherine’s POVI sniff back the pool of tears streaming down my eyes. I don't even know why I am crying. Maybe it’s because we just shared a wild ride of sexual bliss.Maybe it’s because I saw a glint of tenderness in his eyes, sitting by my bedside, maybe because he didn't send me back to my room and allowed me have a long rest and shower in his bedroom. Maybe because I thought we shared something and exactly two hours later, he is flirting with his temptress step mother!“Here” A familiar voice cuts into my sobs. I turn and its Simon handing me a tissue. He had followed me out to Patio.“Thank you” I grab it and begin dabbing my wet face with loud sniffs. He takes the seat next to mine and I can feel his stare on me. “I want to ask why you’re crying but I get the sense I know why” Simon, so softly says.I take one loud sniff as if I am drawing courage for my next words. Taking his eyes, I blurt. “Is your sister having sex with Alexander?His eyes widen as he falls back a gap from
Alexander’s POVShe scooted into my office in a velvet Tea length Challis, spaghetti strap dress, classic cleavage, a little glimpse of her C-cup, not too much. Expected. Hemline grazing her mid-calf, my eyes scroll up to her wasp waist, could fit in my two hands perfectly, tempting. My eyes shift back to her face. Her blue eyes evident, almost out of her half caste face, long sharp nose and supple lips. Kissable. Full black hair, long and tousled, shielded the sides of her face. My eyes cruise down her legs; slender, smooth, running down to a nude Suede ankle strap sandals, exposing glossy, trimmed, curved toenails. Her slender arms dangled freely at her sides. She was drop dead gorgeous, if I was into a fucking angel but I am NOT. I conclude my quick assessment of her petite frame. She’ll do. A pretty little obedient wife to continue the Clifford lineage.One hand up, I gesture her to sit, my eyes following her footsteps, something suavy about it. Something almost appealing.I stre
Alexander’s POVShe let up her eyes, it’s just a little bit wet. Don’t cry Angel. I hate that too.She’s nibbling on her lips again, her unintentional seductive jab. Stop nibbling angel. Do you have any idea the damage you’re causing, the trouble you’re calling?“I have…a lot of concerns” A bit of struggle in her tone.“Oh…Please share” I shrug, unmoved. She swallows. Her lips move first, exposing red tongue. Crimson red like she had just had a lollipop . Damn, the things I could do with it.“Number 1” Her soft voice interrupts my mind savagery.Masking my dirty thoughts, I anchor my devouring gaze on her. “Yes” Waiting.“No expectations of companionship?” Her eyes take mine, gauging them.“Yes” I rasp, almost flipping.Her eyes fall again. “No expectations of romance?” They snap, nearly bulging out, her voice trips.“Yes” I rasp again, ignoring her fast shifting emotions.“No expectations of passion…no expectations of loyalty…you could keep a concubine and I am not to complain?” Her
Catherine’s POV His sand brown hair settled perfectly in a classic side part; soft and sleek, well-groomed, slightly darker brows and trimmed lashes that matched his short stubble beards. Sparse freckles lined his under eyes, nose straight and pointed, thin lips sliced to form a dominant smile,exposing snow white teeth; His broad arms spread in his Oxford suit and tapered pants cuddled his firm calves, Damn, he looked delicious; I purred, as my eyes paraded the large sized portrait picture of Harry Clifford hanging in the Clifford mansion. A mixture of dominance and sex exuded; just like I pictured in my fantasies; a white fantasy God, perfect for resurrecting my stowed dangerous fantasies and lighting a spark in my pathetically boring life. My teeth dug into my lip, shamelessly tearing at the black cast portrait. Dominic Kent had insisted I marry, he put his foot down and bullied me to submission. He wasn’t in love with the Cliffords, he was in love with the Cliffords money;
Alexander’s POV Harry Clifford, the chosen brother, the best of the Clifford genes, loved, celebrated, doted on, the child everyone wanted and me neglected, ignored, overlooked, not his worthy opponent, not his second, not even his spare but invisible. Harry Clifford, now hanging on the wall, nothing but a fucking portrait on the wall. Obliterated from the world. I blow a huff, digesting the giant portrait of my brother in his favorite place at the Clifford Manor. The boring, dandy, depressing study, an empty room of books and echoes. I often wondered why he loved this place so much and now I wonder what it will be without him. I had taken the next flight out of Spain back to Sussex; leaving Olivia to simmer in the Clifford Manor, until I was well away. We couldn’t have anyone finding out about our affair, especially not fresh after her husband’s death; people would crucify us, Olivia more than me. Not that I cared for people’s gossip but Olivia definitely needed a breather, so be
Alexander’s POV “Are you making this shit up?” I tackle him, walking him over with crude eyes. He shakes his head. “The constitution exists, all three hundred pages of it. I can have it sent up right now” He appears serious. My blood heats up another degree, my veins feel like they could pop out from my skin. Three hundred fucking pages of disaster about to ruin my life. No freaking way. Simon continues amidst the chaos in my head. “And the union has to make a year for it to be acknowledged or you would be removed as Clifford’s forerunner immediately and then Clifford Empire would….” “Shut up…shut up…shut up” I nearly want to bite his head off but he saves himself with a swift retreat. I drag my feet. “This is bullshit…bullshit…bullshit” “Alexander I don’t believe it would be hard to find a happy Mrs. Clifford. There would be at least a thousand offers, you have nothing to worry about” “So what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Now that the fucking constitution has me fuc