Alexander’s POVI struggle with the buttons on my shirt as I muttered curses under my breath at the mental picture of Richard Clifford. I had returned earlier than I was meant to, thanks to uncle Richard. He had thrown the first punch in this battle, I hope he was ready for how Alexander Clifford retaliates.“Hey baby” I hear Olivia Clarke’s scaly voice creep into my bedroom. I turn, and she is glowing in her little black dress. How did she know I needed her? I sigh, surrendering to her like she is water in a desert.“Who has gotten my baby so rumpled…huh?” She snakes her arms around my neck and I get filled with immense satisfaction. I inhale my usual dose of acceptance. With Oliva Clarke, I could be myself, my reckless, rugged self without a single care in the world.I draw her in so her relishing bosom grazes my chest. “Richard fucking Clifford thinks he can mess with me”“Oh dear…that fool, he has no idea who he is messing with….” Her finger begin a walk down my torso, her usua
Catherine’s POV After another unbelievably deafening quiet breakfast and Alexander’s usual vanishing. I took to the poolside; stretched out in my orange swim suit on one of the blue Chaise lounges lined up, reading one of the novels I had snuck into my bag after Lydia Kent re-arranged my things over a hundred times. You don’t need these things Catherine, you are going to be a wife now, it’s time to grow up—she said. Thank God I didn’t believe her. I had been taught that a woman’s desire for sex was to be controlled and managed to a reasonable extent so her suitors don’t think her to be lose. Growing up to see how women had been taught to restrain their desires and shamed for exposing them, even in marriage always made me feel different about myself. I couldn’t recall Lydia Kent start up any fire or exchange any romantic gestures with Dominic Kent. I often judged myself for my desire for the wild and dangerous. Sometimes I was even ashamed—a good Kent daughter, a good girl sho
Alexander’s POV I did not miss her neither had I questioned her absence all day. She had only popped up into my head for about five minutes at different intervals of the entire 24hours of the day and in all of those minutes, I had dismissed the thoughts of her decisively until now. Simon had just pulled into one of the designated gravel patches in expansive parking lawn of the Clifford Manor in the cold night after the sun had disappeared from the sky; the grass, lush and velvety under the moonlight. It wasn’t the flashing hazard lights that got my attention, neither was it his unusual swagger. It was her-Catherine Kent, bursting with giggles right next to his driver’s seat. Overhead them, from my bedroom balcony, my eyes narrow into the darkness, scrutinizing them as Simon gingerly headed to her side of the door, unfastening her seatbelt, carefully maneuvering her out of the car. He draped her unsteady body on one arm as he shuffled between shutting his door and keeping her on h
Catherine’s Pov I stir slowly, the soft bed caressing my skin, my mind swimming up through layers of thick fog. The dim light filtering through the white curtains painted the room in muted tones, and I squint, trying to make sense of my surroundings. My head felt as heavy as two giant timber logs tied together, and my mouth felt dry, like cotton. I shift, and my limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. I was not prepared for the shock that slammed my bones when my head made a sluggish left-turn. Shit! I exclaim inwardly, it’s Alexander! He’s here, at my bedside. His intimidating, devil-stare piercing into me. I could see invisible bullets shoot from his eyes, reducing me to a scared puppy. “You’re awake,” His crude husk drive cold shivers down my spine. I blink, trying to piece together the fragmented memories of last night, gently they flooded in; the bar, the loud music, the dancing, the drinks-too many drinks and Simon, yes Simon. My eyes follow his ascending form, his devi
Alexander’s POV “Catherine Angel Kent!” I exclaim weakly, my eyes constricting with concentration and shock at what I believe to be the legible gothic-like writings of Catherine Kent. I am stunned, mortified, suspended in sky-scraping shock as my eyes make swift zigzag shifts over the brown pages of Catherine Kent’s diary. Pages upon pages of sex; wild, dangerous, and many impractical notes of sexual pleasure. My head spins, engaging my raging thoughts. No Angel could create such a book. This surely couldn’t belong to her but why would she have it in her possession anyway? Sitting there by her bedside, listening to her soft breaths and tossing about different thoughts of how to punish her for her wayward behavior, I had wandered into her night stand; I don’t know what I hoped to find, but seeing the latched black diary laced with an aura of mystery; curiosity had propelled me to lift it while she laid unconscious. A knock invades the quietness of my study and the ruckus of m
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 POV I 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 bac