Page 96 of Wicked Queen

“I’m frustrated, Poppet,” I told her truthfully.

“With me? Why?”

It was artless and naive, and it only made me want to take her more.

“Because you’re breathtaking in that white silk that shows every inch of your body. Your nipples are hard and every man around us is eye-fucking my wife while she’s in my arms.” I moved my mouth to her ear, eager to catch every soft noise she made as I spoke. “They’re wondering what it’s like to touch a queen and they know that they’ll never experience a woman like you. But that’s not why I want to punish you.”

“Why?” she murmured, and I knew she was as turned on by my words as I was by her body in that dress.

“Why do I want to punish you? Because you’re being a gorgeous little cocktease. Because you’re making me so hard that I have to keep my jacket buttoned so people don’t see how hard you make me. Because other men are looking at what is mine.” I paused and breathed the most important reason, “Because I can.”

I didn’t ask her if it was okay. I took her hand and led her from the party—from our friends and family and guests. There was no way I would make it through this evening without touching her, tasting her, claiming her. I nodded to one of my men who stopped his conversation mid-sentence and walked away from the guest to clear a path for us. A few more followed, blending in with the crowd until we reached another gallery. Clara didn’t notice until we were suddenly alone.

She eyed the men as we passed them without a word.

“Subtle,” she teased.

There were more on the other side. They’d all been briefed that I needed a moment with my wife privately. When we came into the sculpture gallery, Clara looked around in surprise.

“We’re alone,” she said.

“Yes.” I ran a finger from her chin to her breastbone, enjoying how her nipples beaded even harder as my touch grew closer.

“You planned this,” she accused.

“You did tell me where the party was,” I said, feeling not the least bit apologetic. The moment she’d said the V&A, I’d thought of the sculpture gallery and fantasized about this moment. I couldn’t have planned for how she would look, although I should have thought of it, or how the men would react to seeing her like this.

“This dress is terribly inappropriate,” I told her. “I nearly died when I saw you in it.”

“You could have told me to change.” She frowned, shifting to peer down at herself.

“I like inappropriate. I like how the other men watch you—how strong and confidant you are”—I kissed her shoulder, sliding the thin strap off it —“because I know that the only man you’d bow before is me.”

“You are my King,” she whispered, her breath catching as my teeth sank into her shoulder.

I didn’t bite hard, given her attire it would be impossible to return to the party without everyone whispering. My cock twitched at the thought. I wanted them to know. Part of me wanted to take her perfect body and show them all what only I could do to it, but I would never share her in that way. It drove me wild enough to see her walking around in this excuse for a dress.

But I couldn’t allow her to leave without laying my claim.

“There’s something I need to do.” I slipped the other strap down, hooking it so that the entire dress hung from a single finger.

She was breathing hard, her eyes glued to my face but flickering occasionally to the cameras in the corner.

“Does it bother you?” I asked, testing her. “Knowing someone might be watching?”

Her jaw tensed and then she shook her head. “No.”

“That’s a good girl,” I praised her, “because I make those decisions, don’t I?”

She nodded, starting to catch on to the unfolding scene.

“The cameras are off. I would never expose you—never share you. You are my treasure.” I angled my face so that our lips nearly touched. “But tell me, does it excite you—the thought of others watching me claim you? Showing them all that you belong to me. You may speak.”

“Yes,” she said weakly, sounding torn.

“Don’t be ashamed. It feels good to be owned. It makes you proud, my pretty Poppet, and you should feel that way when you’re possessed.” I savoured the way her throat slid as she swallowed this, wondering how it felt burning inside her. “But I won’t allow it, even if I would love to show you off.”

Clara whimpered, and for a split second I thought she might collapse.