And there it was.
She’d taken it.
She’d taken her freedom with no begging or trading or cajoling. She’d done what I’d hoped.
Simplicity and truth sliced through all the cages and nightmares she’d built for herself. Granting her truth, letting her see things in a totally different light.
Her body flushed, releasing the guilt of what she’d done to the other girls. She shed the horror of hurting them. She finally came to terms that it wasn’t her fault. None of it. None of them had any choice.
Her sigh was full wonderment and joy.
Freedom.
It was done.
Thank fucking God.
Throwing the pill from my palm into my mouth, I grabbed the back of her neck. She shoved my chest, but she was no match for me. Slamming my lips against hers, I forced the second and final drug onto her tongue. The taste of her unlocked all the padlocks I’d surrounded the beast with, and I knew I had seconds left before I undid all the good I’d managed to do.
She growled, trying to bite me, but it was too late. She choked, swallowing the final stage in a rush of rage.
The moment it was done, I bolted.
Get out. Get out.
Charging out of the bathroom, I shot down the hall and ran. I ran until I had enough distance to talk myself out of going back if I snapped.
Out of breath, out of control, hanging onto sanity by a thread, I braced my back against the wall and yanked out my cock. My boxer-briefs tore with the violence of my touch.
The second my fingers latched around my length, the world ceased to exist.
I dropped the cage, unravelled the chains, and let the monster free.
Bashing my head against the wall, I fisted myself and jerked. I strangled my cock as if it was another demon deserving to die. I punished it. I fucking hurt it. I moaned and groaned and thrust like a beast possessed into fingers that only brought pain.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. All I focused on was the arching, sparking, seething need in my balls.
With my other hand, I grabbed the tight aching things and with a roar, gave myself over to what I’d wanted since I kidnapped Tess from the hotel.
I came.
Thick white spurts, arching through the darkness, splattering against the floor. I growled as heat built and cramp stole my legs from under me. With each wave, I kept up my brutal torture on my body. I wrung its fucking neck, brutalizing it for making me so subservient to horrible desire.
As the last ripple erupted from the tip, I slid down the wall.
My heart was a frenzied lunatic.
Sweat covered my entire body and a chill turned my shivers of pleasure into shivers of cold.
But despite feeling guilty, sick, twisted, and completely fucked-up, a small smile graced my lips.
I’d done the unthinkable and won.
I’d had the opportunity to ravish a slave.
I’d had the chance to be the monster I’d always wanted.
But I hadn’t.
I’d kept her safe.
And she was free.
Our monsters found solace in each other’s perfect heart, the devil himself couldn’t tear us apart,
You belong, I belong, our twisted souls forever
It was like waking from a nightmare.
Clouds parted, mists dispersed, clarity took hold. But it wasn’t a nightmare. I’d lived it. I’d breathed it. My heart raced, my body had bruises that weren’t there before, and my mind…my mind was…empty.
I was weak and wobbly but beneath the rush and sickness of adrenaline lived a small incandescent ball, lodged in my heart, growing bigger and bigger. Every breath it grew brighter, swallowing the darkness and weakness inside. I no longer ached for the girls I’d hurt. I no longer felt crippled by guilt. I didn’t seethe with rage at what they’d stolen from me. I didn’t fight constant tears at the thought of disappointing Q.
All of that was overtaken by wondrous liberation.
The nucleus of the old me—who’d fought and won and returned to a master who turned out to be my soul-mate—sprang back into power. It was like spreading crumpled wings, learning how to fly again.
The moment Leather Jacket had run, I’d claimed my freedom. Everything seemed less oppressive. The guilt was still there…just liveable. The memories still haunted but they were ignorable.
Leather Jacket had razed my self-confidence to the ground, but by letting me win—he’d given it back.
My hands curled at the thought of running after him. I wished for a gun and a bullet etched with his name. I wanted to chase him. I wanted to kill, but the luminosity inside demanded no more blood. No more tarnish or slime or death.
Serenity. I’m free.
Nothing in the world could make me give it up.
I turned toward the bath, surveying the dark bathroom with the detachment of a dream. Liquid drenched every inch, creating a gloomy water-world. My naked body rivuleted with droplets as I practically paddled toward the huge bath.
Staring into the still rocking waves, I waited for terror. I waited for flashbacks of being held under and choking but…nothing.
No memory came to fill me with horror; all I remembered was Leather Jacket releasing me and running. If his intention had been to kill me and finish the job—he should’ve stayed away, because now—now I remembered the good as well as the bad. I’d been reminded of everything that I’d lost.
Crushing, joyous tears travelled up my spine, blurring everything. I’d never felt so emptily happy. Thoughts echoed with no rebound, my mind could focus on one thing and not be swallowed by the past.
The silence was ten times, no a hundred times better than my tower. This silence had no walls or cages. This silence came with no stigmata or consequences.
I’m free.
Q.
My heartbeats danced. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to test my conclusion that I was strong enough for him. Would pain still make me run? Somehow, I didn’t think it would.
Where was Q? It seemed an age since I’d seen him—the longest we’d been apart since he rescued me.
Maybe this time it’s your turn.
My eyes flared. Did Q need rescuing? Had I been so wrapped up in my sad little world that I’d put too much on him. The answer was too loud to ignore.
Yes.
It was my turn to give him what he wanted. My turn to give him the relief he needed through pain. But…not yet. I wanted to exist in this precious, perfect moment a little longer. I wanted to solidify the truth and realign every piece of me that’d been scattered by Leather Jacket. Puzzle pieces slotted together, building the complete picture. I was back. My self-worth and belief was miraculously returned.
Sweeping a leg over the tub, I sighed as every muscle unlocked and melted, sliding into the hot water.
The heat cushioned me, hissing against the minor burns on my breasts from the wax Q used and flaring the remaining spanks from before, but I didn’t care. I let go of everything, drifting in happiness. I’d won. I’d done it. I’d survived.
Then something cloud-like crept over my mind.
Something warm.
Something soft.
Something sweet.
“Tess?”
That voice. All depth and gravel and sinfully French.
I stretched as the one syllable of my name echoed in my limbs. I’d never felt a word before, but I did now, and I wanted more. I wanted sonnets whispered in my ears. I wanted lullabies murmured in my mouth.
I opened my eyes.
The bathroom was still dark, but something seemed to be wrong with my brain. I no longer saw darkness; I saw fractures of light, sparkles, glitter in the grey.
“Wow,” I whispered.
Something touched my cheek; I shivered instantaneously. It was too much. Too damn delicious. It was as if the sun trickled through my skin, sending rays directly into my heart.
My eyes travelled up and I blinked.
He was stunning.
He was dazzling.
He was poetically spectacular.
Q’s gorgeous lips spread into a gentle smile; his eyes were pale perfection in the gloom. “Tu vas bien?” You okay?
My entire body rippled. I gasped as a rush of lust intoxicated me. All I could focus on was his mouth—his stupefying, scrumptious mouth.
I blinked again. What’s happening to me?
All I wanted was his lips on mine—his tongue licking and desiring.
His jaw held tiny droplets, his naked chest spangling with grey and silver rainbows. I became hypnotised by a teardrop running down his abs.
Those abs!
His tattoo came to life as inked sparrows ruffled their feathers, darting free from the swirling clouds and barbwire.
I couldn’t look away, completely enthralled by the magic Q performed. How did he do that?
Something firm and controlling pinched my chin, guiding my eyes up, up. I locked onto Q’s gaze, sighing heavily. How could one person carry so much?
“Pain and need and love and confusion,” I whispered. His soul reached through his jade eyes, drenching me with everything he lived with.
I bit my lip, jolting at the shock of how smooth my mouth was, how tasty the bathwater was on my tongue.
Desire unfurled faster and faster in my belly.
Q frowned, impossibly making him more roguish and handsome. “Tess…? How do you feel?”
How did I feel? Amazing. Lusty. Powerful. Consumed.
I stretched again, arching my back as water lapped around my body. I wanted to moan with how good I felt. I’d never been so warm or contended or horny.
My eyes snapped to Q’s. Him. I had to have him.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured.
Q froze, his eyes searching mine. Slowly, his lips turned up into half a smile.
I pressed my thighs together. I couldn’t stop my body from overheating and needing. I’d been cursed or charmed—some sort of potion lived inside. I had no other explanation for how much I needed him.
I laughed, throwing myself headfirst into whatever spell I was trapped in. My voice fell from my mouth, tinkling and chiming like a bell. Was that truly me? I sounded magical. I sounded like a princess straight from a storybook.
Who was I? Sleeping Beauty who’d been woken by her prince?
My eyes locked onto Q’s. No. I was the one who’d fallen head over heels for a beast who spoke in foreign tongues.
Tongue.
A flush of heat and wetness built between my legs. I would give anything to have his tongue on me. I wanted his head between my thighs. I wanted his fingers clawing at my hips. I wanted to be used, bruised, adored.
Q cocked his head, chuckling under his breath. “I think Franco miscalculated the dose.”
I shook my head. I didn’t understand. All I understood was his voice had the power to make me come. The deep tenor vibrated through my heart, sending tiny orgasms exploding in my veins.
I needed to be touched. I needed to be kissed.
Kiss him. Let him know.
Launching upright, I splashed a wave over the tub. Q jerked back, but wasn’t fast enough. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I dragged him down toward me. His hand slipped on the rim, plunging his arms into the water, landing on either side of my body.
His mouth opened to curse, but I swallowed whatever he said. My lips stole his, and the moment I tasted him, I went a little mad.
My core squeezed with delirium, demanding to be filled. My eyes rolled back at the sheer bliss of kissing.
He tasted like freedom and violence and pain.
Pain…
A slight hiccup in my magical world before the cloud in my brain smothered it with need. Yes, I wanted pain. I wanted his roughness. I wanted his whips and chains and feral love. I wanted him inside me.
“Esclave…wait…” Q tried to speak, but he only gave me the opportunity to slink my tongue into his mouth. Joy bounced and fizzed in my heart, demanding more.
I moaned, dragging him closer. My hands dug into his hair, tugging with sharp-laced desire. His mouth opened, either in shock or passion—I didn’t hesitate. I thrust my tongue deeper into his mouth, willingly drowning myself in all things Q.
I wanted to cry at the deliciousness of the kiss. His lips. His heat. The silky, satiny wetness. The scorching, sizzling heatness.
Oh, God. My core burned; my heart fireworked in my chest.
Q groaned as I bit his bottom lip. I wasn’t gentle, bruising his lips with mine, dropping my hands from his hair to his face, holding his sculptured cheekbones, rasping my fingers on his stubble. I wanted to consume him.
His tongue lashed out, licking, teasing. His body leaned closer, pushing me further into the water. His hands on either side of me fisted, prodding my sensitive sides.
I moaned. My heart no longer existed in my chest. My entire ribcage was full of nymphs and pixies all casting spells, spreading their lustful dust.
“Q…” I needed his touch. I needed his mark. I needed so, so much.
His lips pressed harder, bringing smoothness along with roughness from his five o’ clock shadow. His head tilted to kiss me deeper; my lips burned with a glorious rash from his mouth on mine.
I never wanted the kiss to end.
But Q pulled away.
I wanted to cry. I never wanted to leave this enchantment.
His fingers cupped my jaw, holding me steady. Rockets and gunpowder detonated where he touched. My vision coated with a haze of amethyst and plum. Shades upon shades of purple. My favourite colour.
“You’re high,” he whispered.
If he meant feeling the best I’d ever felt, then I agreed. I was on a kite, soaring high, higher, embracing the sun and making the stars my home.
I shook my head. “High on you.” I craned my neck, seeking his lips. Tears tickled my spine at being denied a kiss. “Kiss me. Q…I want you so much.”
His eyes hooded, filling with lustful smoke. “You do?”
I laughed at the absurd notion that I wouldn’t. I’d ride him for the rest of my life if I could. I’d glue my mouth to his so the only way to survive was to feed off each other.
I shivered in need so painful, even the water was a deadly tease. “So much.” Unlatching his fingers from my jaw, I guided his hand to my breast. I arched, pressing every inch of me into his palm. “You’re holding my heart as well as my flesh. Q—please. I want you inside me.”
His fingers stiffened around my breast, pressing delicate tissue.
God, that felt good. Too good. My blood became a highway, speeding along with sparklers, setting powder-kegs ready to burst.
His teeth clenched; his grip released me, then tightened. He looked torn. Confused. At war.
He can’t deny me. I wouldn’t survive it.
Needing to share the magic, I murmured, “I want you so much I can’t breathe. I hate this water because I wish it was you around me, in me. I’m wet for you. I’m drenched for your fingers and tongue. Love me. Q—please…”
Q squeezed his eyes. “Fuck.” His forehead furrowed as his large body shuddered. He tugged his hand from my breast, fighting me when I tried to keep him close. With an angry twist, he tore his palm away, breathing hard.
His gaze opened. “Vachement tentant.” So fucking tempting.” He shook his head, his lips pursed with restraint. “I can’t. Not when you’re high. I didn’t think it would be this bad. I just wanted something—I wanted you to enjoy it—to teach you how you used to love it.”
His hand suddenly swished through the water, cupping my pussy. His face distorted as he pushed a finger unapologetically into me.
God, yes. I screamed with sublime joy. My muscles clamped around him.
“Goddammit, esclave. You’re so damn wet. And now I won’t know if it’s because of your need for me, or what I’ve made you swallow.”
My hips bucked as he removed his finger. “It’s for you. All for you,” I panted.
His face twisted; fear crep
t into his eyes. “You do remember what happened before…don’t you?” His touch landed on my jaw again, wrenching my face to meet his. “Tell me—what do you remember?”
I nodded, distracted by the coils of damp hair whispering over my shoulders.
“Tess. Answer me. What happened?”
His voice was so amazing. Just like the rest of him. I sighed in perfect contentedness. “I told Leather Jacket to fuck off.” I giggled. It sounded crude and whiplash sharp, but it filled me with fire. “He tried to drown me again—I know he would’ve taken me back to hurt more women.” I frowned, vaguely remembering every fear and terror tripping over me the moment he shoved me under the water. I’d been so sure I would die.
My fingers curled. “But then I fought back. I fought like I’d forgotten. And—” I spaced out, thinking of the wondrous possibilities my future held, now I remembered who I was.
Q shifted beside me impatiently. “And….Shit, what else?”
I looked up, letting my hands float to the surface, dragging them through the water. “I won.” I shrugged as if he knew already. “I won. I’m free. I’m happy.”
His eyes dropped to my lips, darkening with need.
The urge to kiss him obsessed me, drumming my bloodstream with a war-beat. “Kiss me. Celebrate with me. I want you so, so much.” In a rush, I scrambled upright, trying to grab him. My fingers scratched his neck as he jerked back, keeping just out of reach.
His eyes searched mine, crawling deep inside me until he hammered at my heart. He touched me—right there. He reached inside my chest, cracked open the beating organ, and ripped it right from my body. I was his to devour. I wanted to be bitten, eaten.
Tears welled in my eyes. “Please…kiss me. I need you to kiss me.”
Q’s hands landed on my shoulders. His features contorted as he battled with things I didn’t understand. “If I kiss you, what then?”
“Then I give myself to you.”
His eyes blazed. “If we do this, we do it my way. Tu es à moi.” You’re mine.
“All yours.”
He lost his battle. “Ah, fuck it.”
He went from unyielding to slamming me backward into the water. His lips smashed against mine, forcing me to open wide for his invasive tongue.
Twisted Together Page 19