Simon’s POVHeading back to the Manor, I felt like an excited teenager who had just had his first kiss. In my head, were sounds of symphonies and Melodies’ that played endlessly.After the kiss, Catherine retreated into silence and I, occasionally stealing glances at her as we drove back, supposed she was hosting guilt over the kiss but unexpectedly, I wasn’t. I felt ecstatic, euphoric, fulfilled and there was not a single doubt in my heart. I was smitten by Catherine Kent and I knew now that I could not stop.“Simon” I hear Olivia’s voice pop out of the darkness, once I walk through the door with Catherine. “Goodnight Simon” Catherine dropped immediately, not sparing another look at Olivia and hurried away from our presence.“Hmmm” Olivia hummed. “You look mighty happy”I shift my eyes from Catherine’s disappearing back view to Olivia and I meet her mischievous smile. “Wipe that smile off your face….we only went for a drive” I lie, motioning towards the bar, where she stood. Still
Alexander’s POVSoaking in the chamomile, scented bath water, Olivia had her legs extended, her toes running imaginary lines down my naked torso. We had concluded our seventh round of climax and orgasms and landed in the tub, and still I could not shake off the relentless thoughts of Catherine Kent. She was a different woman last night; I could not help but wonder Simon’s role in her uncommon boldness. Had he been wayward with her? He could not have, he would not dare touch my bride! I roar inwardly.You practically gave him permission to Alexander, stop with the tantrums.“Alexander….” Olivia’s voice caves through my unyielding thoughts. I snap out of my mental fog and meet her eyes. “You never stray when you’re with me, it’s the second time you’ll do it now…”“Richard… he’s a pain in my ass” I lie; I could not possibly tell Olivia Clarke that I had been haunted by thoughts of the blue-eyed angel the entire time I was inside her.“Richard is a fly; you’ll crush him easily….” She dip
Alexander’s POVAs far as Sussex sports was concerned, the annual Clifford Race was more than just a race; it was a spectacle, a testament to Clifford’s significance and repute. My best part of the Race was showing Arthur Clifford that I was good for something, walking off with their trophy, wearing their glory on my back.Like every other year the crowd's anticipation was palpable and amidst the sea of roaring engines and flashing lights, one name echoed louder than the rest: Alexander!“It’s the 50th season of the Clifford Race and we have Sussex’s most seasoned drivers on the field ready to battle it out for the winning spot… Reigning champion Alexander Clifford would be riding the latest Cliff 500 and new on the track is Simon Clarke… a known face in the Clifford Empire but a rookie on the field” The commentator’s voice surged from the microphone.“Alexander! Alexander! Alexander!” The crowd chanted my name across the field as we sat strapped in our vehicles ready for the Race.It
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