Q rubbed my back and ass as if I were a prized horse he was about to mount. “It’s a clothes peg. And before you ask, everything I use on you tonight is what I’ve found around here. I didn’t come prepared—but I do know pain is pain—regardless of what causes it.”
He dropped his head, dragging his teeth over my hip. “Now shut up, esclave, and let me savage you.”
My eyes watered; my clit burned and thrummed with every heartbeat. The cinch of the peg kept me on edge, compounding the orgasm I desperately wanted.
Having Q touch me gave a small sense of relief. If he stroked me, he wasn’t far enough away to whip or use any other item he may’ve found. But then he stepped away, leaving me cold and totally vulnerable.
Oh, God.
The first strike bit into my skin like a thousand insects.
Insects.
My legs gave out—the table supported all of my weight.
My mind split into two pieces. Flashbacks swarmed.
“We’ll beat you bloody, pretty girl.”
“I’m going to fuck you, puta. You’re next.”
“Hurt them, or we’ll hurt you.”
The horror of Rio sucked me backward, then other memories came thick and fast.
“How long have you wanted this, Tess? How long have you wanted to be fucked?”
“I’m in love with you. You’ve stolen everything but given me so much in return.”
“Your pain is my pain. You honour me by letting me mark you.”
My body wanted Q’s dark medicine but my mind fought off the lustful haze, running away from pleasure into grief.
No! I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay strong.
“Tess.” Q leaned over me, tapping my cheek. “Reste avec moi.” Stay with me. “Only concentrate on now. Not then. Claim it back.”
I moaned, cursing myself. I thought I was free. I felt as if I had too many layers. Layers upon layers of complications. I’d freed myself from one, only to find another.
The pool table creaked as Q leaned on it, brushing away a curl from my eyes. I looked up, locking onto his gaze. Brandishing whatever he’d used, he trailed it down my back, making me shiver. “I’m going to punish you every time you let your thoughts drift.”
My nipples stiffened against the felt. Seeing Q destroyed all my thoughts, granting me strength to embrace what I needed. I nodded.
“Every time you shy away from pain, I’ll punish you. It’s for your own good. ”
I nodded again, not trusting my voice.
Q gave me a look so full of adoration and togetherness, I knew I wouldn’t have to fight to keep my thoughts in the present. He’d taken me utterly hostage.
“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning off the table. His fingers found my pussy again and I arched my hips into his palm. A single finger pressed inside, conjuring liquid and need, while his knuckles knocked the peg on my clit. Intense stars bolted down my legs.
The next hit came as a total surprise, across the back of my thighs.
More insects filled my mind.
Spiders.
Termites.
Beetles.
Just like my hallucinations in Rio.
A headache built behind my eyes, trying to ignore the past and focus only on Q.
Q removed his touch, smearing my dampness over my lower back. “Tess....” he growled. “Don’t make me warn you again.” His voice resonated with anger. “Conquer your fear.” He struck. “Rule your pain.” He struck again. “Find pleasure in your terror.” And again. “You’re stronger than this.”
His voice was a spotlight in the never ending void sucking me down. I latched onto it, holding tight.
He hit me again. Different spot. Different pain. The fear came thick and sickly sweet, but I managed to ignore the memories.
Q might hurt me. He might bruise, make me bleed, and completely consume me, but he would never destroy me. He’d protect me to the brink.
Moving away, he struck again, focusing on the left side of my ass where he hadn’t spanked. His breathing grew heavy and hard. “Fuck, Tess.” Q squeezed my ass cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
His voice was the key to completely freeing me—the reverence and wonderment in his tone. Something changed inside. Something swift and fleeting. The last remaining proverbial chains clanked away, smashing into the glass walls, leaving me finally, finally unencumbered.
I sighed as I managed to refocus completely on the present.
The peg between my legs went from torturing to tempting once again. I bucked my hips, wanting more of the throb.
Q dragged his punishment of choice over my burning flesh. “I’ll give you one guess as to what I’m using on you.” He rocked against me, bumping his hot cock on my hip. Another flick of his wrist delivered more intangible pleasure-pain.
My mind raced. What did he have? What caused multiple burning marks on my skin? The sharp sting hinted he probably broke my skin.
“Um, a ruler?” My voice barely made a sound.
Q chuckled. “Wrong guess.”
The pain came again, and euphoria that I’d forgotten blanketed over me. It turned everything gooey and slow and hushed. Only the crack of Q’s strike and the scalding heat remained.
The peg became my best friend, building me higher and higher, pinching me closer to an unbelievable orgasm. Something uncoiled in my core, growing and growing, wetter and wetter.
He hit me again, lost in his world.
Time ceased to have meaning as Q turned me from submissive to slave. With each strike, I welcomed the fire, transmitting right into my belly.
The next hit me hard. The first wave of an orgasm slipped through my control. I didn’t know if Q would let me come, and I was incapable of asking. I wasn’t human anymore, just lust.
Q paused, reaching from behind to push one firm finger inside me.
I cried out, tears running from my eyes at the joy of being touched.
“Do you want to come, mon coeur? Do you want to explode for me?”
His voice sent me closer and closer to the edge of no return. I nodded, creating static electricity with my hair rubbing against the table.
“In that case, viens pour moi.” Come for me. Withdrawing his finger, he shifted closer, bringing his gorgeous hardness against the back of my thighs. It branded me hotter than anything else. I wanted it. I would cry if I didn’t get it.
Fiery stinging spread on my ass, hurtling me down and down into myself where nothing else existed but senses. I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe. My body turned inward, focused only on Q and the peak and pierce of what he did.
Another hit and Q’s fingers crept up between my legs to my pussy. I moaned as the peg kept me wobbling on the very edge of release. With a vicious pull, he tugged it free, releasing the floodgates of blood and ecstasy. I screamed as his fingers slammed inside.
I lost it.
My hips bucked of their own accord, grinding onto Q’s two amazing fingers. My swollen clit required no stimulation—skittering into waves upon waves of pleasure.
Q groaned, stroking my inner walls, forcing my body to shatter into infinity. “Fuck, you’re tight. Keep going. Come, Tess.”
The crest was a tsunami of bliss, crashing with power. Q thrust in perfect rhythm with my contractions, drawing out the orgasm until the last wave smashed into me like a wall of fire.
Once the last ebb rattled my body, Q placed the item he used beside my head, folding his body over mine. His heat made my raw and delicate skin simmer with pain but I loved his weight, his authority. “I told you, you’d come on my fingers. Guess what the next one is, esclave.”
I mumbled something, opening extremely heavy eyelids. The first thing I noticed was the whisk. A whisk?
My eyes shot to Q’s. “You—” My voice was broken from his erotic torture. “You used that on me?” It made sense, the caustic threads of pain—multiple stripes. I hurt everywhere: my cheekbone and hips hurt from the unforgiving table and my shoulders burned fr
om being tied while my ass felt like flames would combust at any moment.
He nodded—his eyes as pale as I’d ever seen. “Yes. You should see your skin. It’s a crisscross of perfection.” He pressed his erection right between my cheeks. “You didn’t answer me. Tell me how I plan to make you come next.” I knew what I wanted, but I had a feeling Q meant to drag this out. Having him inside would be the last thing I’d earn. I had to try, though. “Your cock. Please fill me, maître.”
He followed the contour of my shoulder, nibbling gently. “You haven’t earned that yet. I’m having too much fun.”
Climbing off me, taking his heat from my wounded ass, he circled the table and untied the rope holding me down. The instant I was free, he came back around, holding the leash like I would run at any moment. Even if I was terrified of what he had planned, I couldn’t run. My legs weren’t functioning; my pussy still shivered with fading echoes of my release.
Q helped me stand, rubbing my lower back as I hissed with discomfort. When I stood upright, he looped his fingers in the silk around my wrists. Jerking me close, I slammed against his naked body. His mouth brushed against my ear, whispering, “My tongue, esclave. That’s what’s next.” He nuzzled my hair away, scraping his teeth on my brand. “You’ll come so fucking hard. You’ll beg me to lick while I hurt you. Because that’s who you are, Tess.”
I winced as his teeth led a threatening trail down my neck. Who was I? I didn’t even remember my birthday or hair colour—Q’s lips were venom poisoning all my thoughts. “Why? Why will I come while you hurt me?” I honestly wanted to know. Had he made me this way? Had circumstances evolved me? Or had I been born with all these black complexities?
Q kissed me. His lips sealed over mine with domination, spearing his tongue into my mouth. I opened to him, loving the vicious but worshipping affection.
Then I screamed as a harsh hand landed on the sore skin of my backside. Q tore his lips from mine, murmuring, “Because you’re mine. My little monster. And I refuse to let you forget it.”
My knees wobbled.
Pushing me away, he smirked. His fist wrapped the leash around his knuckles before striding forward into the dark.
I had no choice but to follow. Walking through such a gloomy unfamiliar room had my instincts screeching on high alert. I wanted to turn on the lights, but the bold way Q directed me kept me trusting—safe.
We stopped beside a wall, the light from the chandelier over the pool table wasn’t able to spread its feathers of light this far. I squinted, vaguely making out a heavy hanging piece of art in the shape of something unrecognisable. Reaching out, I touched it. It was made from hollowed metal judging by the cool slick surface.
Q stretched upward, reaching for the mooring point. The ceiling slopped, making one end of the room high, while the other was touching height. Looking closer, I noticed the industrial looking hook holding the floating piece.
“What are you doing?” I asked, giving in to the temptation of gawking at Q. Fully stretched, completely naked, his muscles bunched as he unhooked the chain and lowered the sculpture to the ground. His biceps trembled as he dragged the piece away, leaning it against the wall.
Collecting a handful of what looked like fabric ropes, he strolled back.
Coming to stop in front of me, he stood proud and almost narcissistic in his perfection. He’d fully embraced being in control—doing what he wanted.
“Remember what I once told you? How I wanted to eat you for days and there would be nothing you could do to stop me?” His voice held a tone I couldn’t decide if I loved or hated.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” His eyes flashed.
“Yes, maître.” My belly twisted with anticipation.
Q held up the intricate web of ropes. “Do you know what Shibari is, esclave?”
I couldn’t take my eyes off his hands as he twisted and twirled the rope back and forth. He was a snake charmer, and I’d fallen completely into his conjury.
He took a step closer, ratcheting my heart rate. “It’s the art of rope and bondage. An art I’ve fantasised about using on you for a fucking long time.” His hand lashed out, grabbing my bound wrists. I struggled a little, knowing it was useless but wanting to spar with him anyway.
Denouncing him and toying with him made me wild in the past. I wanted all that he promised. Hell, I would tackle him to the ground to force his tongue to take me now, instead of making me tremble in wait. But I also wanted to make him hot. To give him his fantasy of taking me against my will.
“I won’t let you.”
His jaw twitched; head tilted slightly. “What did you say?”
“I don’t want any more ropes. But I do want your tongue.” Loving the flutter in my heart, I threw my arms around his head, jumping a little to get my bound wrists to clear his height. The moment I held him, I traced my tongue along his bottom lip, whispering, “You don’t need ropes to make me come.” Even though I’m dying to see what you do to me.
Q shuddered, kissing me hard. His tongue dived deep, conjuring a moan from my soul. His slick heat made me melt in his arms.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he grunted, walking me backward to smash against the wall. “It’s not going to fucking work.” Ending the kiss with a painful nip, he unhooked my arms. “You’re trying to get me to lose control, but for once in my life I’m enjoying straddling the line of right and wrong. I’m loving hurting you but also pleasuring you. And I know you’re loving it, too.”
The hand not tangled in ropes came up, wrapping around my throat. “God, I missed you, Tess.”
My stomach flip-flopped at the ray of truth in the darkness of our games. “I love you,” I murmured, accepting his gentle kiss.
The softness morphed to tension again as Q pulled away. His lips twisted into a grin. “You’re going to look divine.”
Unknotting the rope in his grip, he ordered, “Stand there and don’t move.”
I stood breathing shallowly as he draped one long piece over my shoulders. It tickled my skin, slinking around my waist. His face darkened with concentration and I tried to follow his quick hands.
More twists, more loops. Each rope sent my body thrilling.
Q dropped to his knees, nudging my legs apart. Looking up, he said, “I’m not a master at Shibari, so this isn’t going to be perfect.”
I inspected what he’d done so far—the thicker knots on some points, the looseness of others. Rows upon rows of ropes, leading from my shoulders and back to my hips. “It looks like you know enough.”
He smiled. “I’ve practiced enough to know how to make a harness.”
My heart stuttered at the thought of him doing this to another woman. Fierce hot jealousy filled me. My fingers curled by my sides.
Q noticed. Of course he fucking noticed.
“Something you want to say, Tess?”
I bit my cheek. There were plenty of things I wanted to say, but—oh, screw it. “I hate the thought of your past. You’re mine.”
He chuckled. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.” He followed the contours of my body, threading silk around my thighs, knotting them intricately.
The black colour made my white skin come alive, like a canvas covered with lashes of paint, or even handwriting—a contract of ropes.
I hated the churning in my stomach. I had no right to be possessive of his past. We all had them—it was pointless to torture myself with who he might’ve done this with.
Trying to distract myself, I glared at his tattoo, letting the birds fill my vision as Q tied the last knots around my knees.
Standing, he appraised his handiwork. Prodding a finger in one knot, and testing the tightness of another, he finally nodded.
His hand fell to his cock, stroking himself, his eyes drinking me in. “I wish I had a camera. You’ve never looked more beautiful." Pulling me forward, he whispered against my mouth, “And I said I practiced. Not that I practiced on someone. This is a first for me,
too.”
A smile tugged my lips. He let me go to gather the chain from the statue he’d removed.
Undoing the carabiner, he smirked. “Turn around.”
Oh, God. Am I ready for this?
My heart thundered as I shuffled in place, facing away. I shivered as Q came close, hooking the carabiner and chain to the rope harness behind me. With strong arms, he suddenly picked me up, cradling me against his front.
“J'ai besoin que tu fasses quelque chose pour moi.” I need you to do something for me, he said, nuzzling my neck.
Having his hot breath on my skin undid all my worries. “Anything.”
“I’m going to flip you upside down. I’ll keep hold of you as your grip will be compromised because your shoulders are fastened, but you need to stay as still as possible.”
My eyes flew upward to the ceiling. He was going to secure me upside down, hanging? What did you think was going to happen? I seriously hadn’t thought this through.
I swallowed my fears, nodding. Q manoeuvred my body first to face him, then sideways. I held my breath as vertigo stole me.
From vertical to horizontal, I clung to his hips as best I could. From horizontal to vertical, his cock brushed my breasts. With undeniable strength he forced me upside down, holding me steady.
I clamped my arms around his thighs, cursing the ropes around my shoulders not letting me hug him.
I jolted as a rush of hot breath brushed against my core. Oh, God.
My eyes squeezed, hyperaware of his mouth so close. I wanted it. I wanted another orgasm. His arms bunched, holding my weight. He jostled me, keeping me pinned with one arm while reaching for the hook with the other. His attention was wholly on stringing me up and not on the part of me screaming for attention.
“Hold on. I’m just securing—” His distraction allowed me time to revel in his hot form against mine.
I clutched him hard, cursing my jitteriness at the newness of what was to come. His body stretched and tightened, straining on his toes to secure the chain back onto its original hook.
The ropes tugged my back, curving around my body, cocooning me in a prison of silk.
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