The Royals: Alexander and Clara: Volume One by Geneva Lee

Author:Geneva Lee [Lee, Geneva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ivy Estate
Published: 2020-07-19T18:30:00+00:00

We stayed like that for somewhere between a minute and eternity. Time had ceased to hold sway over us. Clara drew herself from my arms, turning over to face me. Our eyes locked and lightness tightened my chest. It was always the same. Happiness followed so rapidly by self-loathing that I could not separate the two from one another.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, drawing my lips to hers. The taste of her was honey on my tongue. When we broke apart, she glanced at me, an unusual shyness settling over her lovely features. “What did you mean when you said I wasn’t truly a submissive? Am I—” she paused—“doing something wrong?”

I tightened my hold on her, pressing her close to my chest. “No, poppet. It’s more complicated than that.”

There were things Clara didn’t know about my past. I couldn’t imagine she wanted the torture of knowing about every woman I’d been intimate with. Still the only way to explain what I’d meant earlier was to reveal something that might hurt her or, at best, scare her.

“The dominant and submissive lifestyle is not something that one simply turns on and off.” I paused, preparing myself for her reaction.

“You were in one?” she guessed in a quiet voice.

There was my Clara, always reading my mind. “Yes.”

She stiffened but didn’t pull away. It was a better reaction than I could have hoped for, so I continued. “It was brief and it occurred not long after Sarah’s death.”

“Did you love her?”

“No.” My denial was harsh, but I understood what Clara was truly asking. Had I been capable of love before her? “I’ve never loved a woman romantically. As I told you, I loved my mother and sister. That’s all.”

It pained me to say it, knowing it hurt her. Clara drew in a sharp breath as though she’d been physically wounded, but she didn’t speak.

“The girl who was chosen as my submissive was no one to me but a willing partner hand-picked by my friend.”

“This friend picked a girl for you? You can hardly run to the corner shop and pick up a submissive.” There was an edge to her words that pained me.

“It was a friend of my father’s who is a lifestyle dominant. I had heard the whispers, so I approached him. He understood the need for discretion and found a girl who could meet that need.” Perhaps the more cut and dried I made it sound, the less doubt it would give her.

“What did you do to her?” she asked, but I heard the true question: what will you do to me?

Answering this question was like walking a tight rope. “She helped me discover that while there were aspects of the lifestyle I craved, others did not suit me.”

“What did you do to her?” her voice broke as she repeated the question more insistently.

“I tied her up,” I admitted slowly. “Sometimes I took a cane to her or a paddle. Other times a whip. She craved pain—nearly unbearable pain. It was more satisfying to her than pleasure.

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