Monsters in the Dark
Page 40
I would never feel normal again. I descended into the realm of lunacy.
Lunacy.
That’s what I felt for Q.
Love and hate entwined so intrinsically, plaiting together into one sharp-edged, life-consuming feeling.
Q had created an entirely different emotion—one I’d never be free of: utter madness. I would never be free from the craziness of falling for a beast.
I dropped my eyes, realizing I stared at Q with my face projecting every racing conclusion.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, keeping his voice low and coaxing. If anything, it was worse than his normal volume. It whispered under my clothes, licking around my nipples.
I clenched my thighs together, glaring at my hands in my lap. Tears bruised my eyes; self-pity made me shake. I’d never wanted an orgasm so much in my life.
The sound of heavy machinery cranking shook the helicopter. The rotor blades picked up speed within a moment.
“Tess…” Q shifted forward in his chair, linking his hands between his open thighs. The position was so like when he put the tracker on my ankle when we first met that I whimpered. Even that first meeting, I’d been wet for him. My body had no self-control toward this man. He made me weak. He made me dependant.
“Nothing. I’m thinking nothing.” My stomach swooped into my feet as we took off with an all-powerful soar. The helicopter acted as if it had wings, not metal blades keeping it airborne.
Q never took his eyes off me, frozen into position; the only thing that changed was his fingers. They grew white with how hard he clenched.
His proximity made me shiver and ache and scream inside. My body was swollen and driving me to the point of insanity with the need to release.
I’m sick. I must be. No person could make another exist in heightened flames of lust. I had a temperature, my mind consumed with my fucking obsession that was Q.
Q sucked in a breath before unlocking his unsteady hands and reclining into the chair. “Are you feeling okay, Tess?” His eyes were guarded, face closed to me, but his body fermented with tightly reined lust.
I snorted loudly, twitching in the chair, cursing the lashes on my thighs, hexing Q for leaving me this way. “What the hell do you think?”
Q didn’t move for a full minute. One torturous minute while our eyes locked and our minds connected and our subconscious bellowed at each other. Our minds made love, we ravaged, we ruined, all while not touching. But it wasn’t enough.
It accelerated my heart. It made my pussy seep eager wetness. It pretzeled my mind into someone I no longer recognised, but it didn’t give me what I needed.
“Why did you tell the captain not to disturb us?” My voice was barely noticeable over the rotor blades, but Q heard me.
He stilled, surging with carnal tension. He watched me from a lowered brow, letting me trap myself, walk right into whatever web he cast. “Why do you think, esclave?”
Esclave. The one word that was hyperlinked to my pussy.
My eyes snapped shut as a wave of my denied orgasm clutched my entire body.
Oh, fuck. Fuck me, I couldn’t do it.
“I’m done,” I choked, twisted with longing and fogged with confusion. “I’m going insane!” I grabbed a handful of hair and pulled, trying to find some relief from the ceaseless buildup.
But the pain only amplified my desire, sending another throb pulsating through my body.
The helicopter blades whirred and wound the cabin with sexual tension. Q sucked in a breath, straining against his suit. He sat so still and looked so unaffected. It wasn’t fair. He came. He came all down my throat and all over my breasts. It’s my turn, dammit!
I was too far gone—too consumed by a bodily need.
Scrambling out of the luxury leather, I dropped to the carpet and crawled.
I fucking crawled in a two thousand euro designer skirt, zeroing in on the one person who held my cure.
Q’s face shot to unreadable, pale eyes glowing in the morning sunlight from the window. His lips parted, sucking in a noisy breath. “Get up,” he growled.
I whimpered and shook my head, keeping my shoulders hunched as I traversed the small distance. Every whiplash, every bead bruise, every cell in my body throbbed.
He sat straighter, using the armrests to hoist himself upward. His fingers turned white around the leather, gripping hard. “Stop. Have I ever asked you to crawl or be any less than a woman?”
His face grew black with fury as I slowed and knelt between his open thighs. His body heat murdered the rest of my coherent thought. He wanted to own me? He possessed me in that moment.
I raised my eyes, fearful of what I would see in his. Then I jumped as he reached down and grabbed my triceps.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers biting deep. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care because my master was touching me, and my body was too swept up in pleasure to be scared of Q’s wrath. He teased me, used me, and denied me this morning. I couldn’t be expected to work, or function as a human being without him saving me from this pleasurable agony.
Soaring high above patchwork farms, quaint villages, and thatched cottages, I bared my soul to him. “I didn’t mean to take control away from you. I wanted to give you pleasure. I wanted to show how much I care, how much I believe in you.”
Q shook, his face darkened further; his fingers turned to talons, cutting off the blood supply around my arms. “You took away my control. Do you know what happens to women like you if I lose it?” He shook me. “It’s the one thing I’ve been able to rely on my entire life, and yet you shattered it with my balls in your hands.” No other man had a voice like Q. Dark, dangerous, laced with a melodic French accent. Being reprimanded by him was pure audio perfection.
He stood suddenly, hauling me to my feet. I wobbled in his grip, staring into his turbulent eyes. “Pourquoi tu dois me pousser comme ça?” Why must you push me so?
“Because I need to break you to make you mine.” My voice thickened with strength. It was true. More than I knew.
Not caring that Q might make my punishment worse, I wriggled in his grip until his fingers loosened. The moment my arms were free, I reached for my top button and undid it with rattling fingers.
Q’s eyes dropped to my chest, absorbed by my jerky fingers.
My body was heavy, melting, sparking with the closeness, the threat of being taken. I would make Q fuck me. I would.
He didn’t try to stop me as I unclasped the remaining buttons and pulled the soft material from my waistband. I stood in front of him, shirt spread to reveal the black lacy bra with tiny diamantés on the straps.
With my pulse skyrocketing, I traced a cross over the swell of my breast, directly above my heart. “I give you my oath that I will obey you. I won’t force you to give me what you’re not ready to give.”
Q stopped breathing; his eyes locked onto my exposed skin. His wet tongue licked his lips, tasting me from head to toe without even moving. My eyes dropped to his trousers, a heady thrill heating me at the hard bulge straining against the material.
The helicopter banked to the left, sending us leaning into the curve. His gaze connected with mine and the lust simmering in his eyes changed from pale to glowing, burning, searing.
His hand shot out and captured my chin, holding me tight. His chest pumped and the cords of muscle in his neck shot into stark relief. “Esclave—” His voice positively stroked my pussy, rippling over my skin.
My mind swam, and I rushed to finish what I wanted to say. “I promise to obey, but I don’t promise I won’t make your life hell. You swore you’d give me what I needed. You broke your oath because I need you now. I need you so much I can’t think straight. I need your tongue. I need your fingers, your cock, your voice, your scent. I need you all over me, in me, and around me.” I panted by the time I finished.
He didn’t move, eyeing me as if I were a messy business merger that refused to go his way.
“Did you stop to think for a moment why I a
sked the captain for privacy?” Bowing his head, he kissed the concealed bite he gave me earlier. “It’s because I know the pain you’re in. I’m just as tortured. If I didn’t fuck you before we got to Paris, we would both end up in national news for public indecency. I’m done, too, Tess.”
He ran his nose up my neck, heading toward my ear. I shivered when he nipped at my lobe. “Arrêter de me supplier, je vais te baiser” Stop begging, I’m going to fuck you.
It wasn’t Q who lost it this time. It was me.
I launched into his arms, climbing him, scratching in urgency. My lips descended on his, and for the first and probably only time, I initiated sex between us. And for one precious moment, he let me take from him.
The moment my tongue entered his mouth, he snapped.
My stomach rolled, and I found myself flat on my back on the helicopter’s carpeted floor. Q cradled my head so I didn’t knock myself out, and somehow he kept the brunt of sprawling backward to a minimum. But that was as far as his chivalry went.
The moment he had me beneath him, he kissed me like a monster possessed. His tongue speared my lips and stole every last drop of oxygen in my body. My eyes slammed closed, and I clawed at his immaculate suit.
I need this off. I need his skin.
Every part of me boiled; desperation made me feral. I grabbed his tie, pulling him so hard against me, my breasts bruised and my neck, already tender from strangulation, spasmed with pain.
Q bit my lip, not drawing blood, but in a warning to let him go. He reared back on his elbows, digging his hips harder into mine. “You’re determined to make me hurt you. I’m trying so fucking hard, but you don’t seem to care. You’re reckless with your life, esclave, so why should I hold myself back?”
My blood thrilled, summoning every dark recess to gush with want. “If by hurting me I get to possess you in return, then yes, I’m reckless, but only because I need you like I need air.”
“You need this?” His eyes glinted as he rolled his hips against my pinned legs. The tight skirt held me hostage when all I wanted to do was open my thighs and welcome him to take.
I wished Q had a pair of silver scissors to cut me free, tear off my fanciful knickers, and fuck me like the slave I wanted to be for him.
“How much do you need to be fucked, Tess?” His head lowered to graze along my cheek, breathing me in. “How crazy does it make you, thinking about my cock deep inside, pounding you, stretching you?”
My complete education flew out of my mind. Speech was an impossibility as images of Q slamming into me berated my thoughts.
I cried out as he shifted and caught my barely covered nipple in his teeth. I bowed as his hot mouth closed over the highly sensitive nub, and my pussy squeezed.
“I think you need me badly. I think I need to show you how good my cock can feel.”
“Please. God, yes. Show me. Now.”
He collapsed on top of me, lips crushing mine. I opened my jaw wide to submit to his all-demanding kiss. Q panted, running his hands all over my body. His five o’clock shadow acted like match paper to my spark. We detonated. Had the helicopter plummeted to earth, we wouldn’t have noticed. We were wrapped up, consumed by each other.
Q broke the kiss, levering himself off me.
Breathing ragged, he ordered, “Get on all fours.”
When I didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed my hips and flipped me over, hoisting my ass up until I rested on my hands and knees.
The second I was steady, urgent fingers pushed my tight skirt up and up, forcing it higher until the cute slit on the side split with a loud crack. “I want to rip this into shreds, but I can’t have you showing the world what’s mine.” Q gave a final push and the skirt gathered on my hips.
The moment my ass was exposed, he spanked me hard, sending jolts of pain radiating through my body, but I existed on a painful plateau already, and his palm print bloomed into deliciousness.
My eyes glossed even as I pushed backward, imploring Q to strike again.
Vibrating with lust, he leaned closer and licked my smarting ass cheek, soothing away the sweet pain.
With a growl, he plucked the small G-string with his fingertips and pulled. The material tightened around my pussy, pinching my clit, making me burn. Then with a jerk of his head, Q sliced through the lace with his teeth and the G-string existed no more.
He brought the fabric to his nose and inhaled deep. “Fuck me, you smell incroyable.” With a dark glint in his eye, he balled the scrap of lingerie and shoved it in his pocket. He caught me watching over my shoulder and said, “Now I’ll always have you close, esclave.”
My cheeks flared, but my heart fluttered just the same. Q wanted a part of me on him at all times. I wanted the same thing. I wanted to wear his scent. To wrap myself up in everything Q.
Q cocked his head and reached for his fly. Never dropping eye contact, he undid his belt buckle and slid it slowly from the waistband.
I started to shake. My fingernails clawed into the carpet, expecting another round of belt abuse. It’d only been four days since Q welcomed me home with the aid of his belt and some ice-cold champagne.
Q bared his teeth, eyes flashing with irritation. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m not such a bastard to hit you on top of bruises that are barely healed.” Deliberately he tossed the leather to the side.
I didn’t relax, and didn’t know if I suffered regret or relief at his decency.
“I’m going to punish you in other ways. Face away.” He motioned for me to look down and I unwillingly dropped my head.
Not seeing him was worse to my oversensitive body. Without knowing what he was doing, my imagination ran overtime.
The sound of a zipper coming undone sounded loud, even over the whirr of rotor blades. Q’s hot, hard flesh connected with the back of my thighs as he pressed against me and jerked down his boxer-briefs in one swipe.
I moaned, rocking toward him. I thought his thighs were hot, but they were Antarctica compared to the inferno of his cock. It hung heavy and hard between my open thighs, teasing me to the point of mania.
He groaned, fisting his erection, dragging the head through my folds. “Fuck. Will I ever get enough of you?” As he spoke, he captured my clit with his thumb and forefinger.
I jerked and liquefied. My pussy rejoiced at finally having stimulation. Normally I’d need more than a simple touch, but this time just the thought of his hand on me summoned the orgasm that lived behind my eyes, in my blood, and deep in my core.
“Q…yes, Q.”
He inserted the tip of his finger inside me before pulling back and replacing it with the thick head of his cock.
The heavenly bliss of being entered, expanded and stretched, sent my heartbeat whizzing. My head was too heavy to hold up, and I let it dangle, giving in to the overwhelming exquisite anticipation of Q fucking me.
He sank in another centimetre, his thighs rigid against mine. Another groan wrenched from his chest. “How is it I’m about to fucking come when I exploded in your mouth an hour ago?”
I bit my lip at the ragged wonderment in his tone. He wasn’t asking me the question. It was rhetorical. He truly didn’t understand the compulsion between us—I knew I didn’t. There weren’t words or rationality to explain our bond.
Happiness scorched through me like a sunrise. Me, Tess Snow, a woman from no worth or recognition, had a power over a sadistic legend like Q. And fuck, that turned me on.
Q spanked me again, slicing his large hand right across my ass. The previous belt marks awoke, tingling, searching for relief. Then he caressed me, leeching the heat away.
He repeated. Spank. Caress. Until my head swam and my pussy contracted around the small fraction of cock he let me have.
“Q!” I moaned. “Please. No more. I need you so much.”
His fingers dipped between my legs. I cried out as he smeared wetness around my clit.
“Shit.” Q’s muffled curse caused sparklers and fireworks to fizz in my blood.
“Merde, esclave, stop. For fuck’s sake, you’re ruining me.” Even with the ferocity of Q’s anger, I thrilled with the knowledge I was winning in some small measure—the former slave training the master. If I’d been a poet, I would’ve written how serendipitous it all was. How fate entwined and cursed us both.
Q gripped my hips, propping me higher. Pulling out, the heat of his erection nudged my ass; I jolted with urgency.
Sitting higher on his knees, Q muttered, “This is going to be fast and hard, and I don’t want you to say a word, do you hear me?”
I nodded, breathless already. “I’ll do anything you want, as long as you let me come.”
“You can come, but only when I say.” His nails imprinted crescent moons into my skin, digging deep. “But if you come before, I’ll punish you worse. I won’t feel regret or remorse. I’ll find a way to punish you that doesn’t make me suffer, too.”
He rocked, and his cock eased down my ass, between my spread thighs, nudging my core.
Words were beyond me. I nodded wildly, scrabbling at the carpet. The strands wrapped around my fingers and I held on for dear life.
With urgent hands, Q untwisted my coiled ponytail and grabbed a handful.
With a jerk, he forced my head back. My spine arched as he plunged inside me.
Deep.
Hard.
Excruciating fullness.
I opened my mouth to scream, but he clamped a hand over me, riding me, containing my cries. “Shush, esclave. Not a sound, remember?”
The intrusion was pain personified, the rocking endless bliss.
The way he took me held no remnants of the sometimes sweet man beneath the blackness. This was purely brutal and dark and animalistic.
I loved it.