Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(13)

I wanted to be Q’s fingers. I wanted to be his flesh. I wanted to be his cock receiving such pleasure. I wanted everything about him, and yet he gave me nothing.

I trailed my eyes up his physique, over his rigid stomach, skittering over his intricate tattoo, along his chest, up his stubble-smooth chin and parted lips until I finally looked him in the eye.

It felt as if the world exploded on its axis, tripping, spinning, hurling me headlong into sin and debauchery.

“You want me. Don’t you, Tess.” Q’s voice dropped to gruff and midnight. Still stroking himself with one hand, he came forward and cupped between my spread legs.

I moaned as his touch acted like gasoline on an already blazing inferno. “Q, please,” I warbled, my tongue too heavy to form proper sentences.

His fingers were little sticks of dynamite, and I begged to light them for a cataclysmic explosion.

He swayed toward me, stroking himself harder, drawing drops of glistening pre-cum.

My heart roared in my ears. I fought the restraints. I needed to be free. I needed to lick and bite him. I needed to f*ck him with an urgency I’d never felt before.

Q tutted under his breath. “You want to be free?” He nuzzled my neck, licking at the sore skin from his earlier bite. “You’ll never be free again. Je te garde pour toujours.” I’m keeping you forever.

Oxygen no longer held merit as Q inserted two fingers deep inside me, pulsating in time with his strokes on his cock. I bucked, desperate to get closer. Fingers weren’t enough.

Take me! Own me.

Q groaned as he fisted himself, working harder. “Fuck, I want my cock inside you. To be deep in your darkness, your wetness, your f*cking sweet *.” He pressed another finger deep, and my back bowed.

I moaned, eyes squeezed shut against the siege of euphoria. “Do it. Please, God, do it.”

“So eager. So keen,” he growled, his hand working harder, fingers throttling his cock.

I moaned, nodding. “For you, yes. Always for you.”

He trembled, groaning under his breath. “Only for me, esclave. All mine.” He fingered me harder. His thumb found my clit, swirling in time to the tempo he set. Rocking, possessing, mind-shattering.

His thumb was magic, conjuring swirling, sparking energy to centre on his touch. My stomach tensed as my core tightened around him, demanding to be filled, to be satisfied and taken, but Q just kept up the maddening erotic beat. Thrust, swirl, thrust. His hand worked his erection, bringing more blood to his cock, so it heated and wept with clear liquid. Liquid I wanted to lap. His balls tightened, sitting high and full, straining with the need to come.

With his fingers still deep inside me, Q stopped stroking himself to fumble with one of the straps around my wrists. I groaned as the tightness released, letting blood gush into my hands.

He never faltered in his rhythm as he undid the cuffs around my neck and other wrist. When I was free, he placed my hand on his cock.

His velvety heat was like the trigger on my release. My body clamped around his fingers as the first ripple milked him hard. So f*cking good. My hand squeezed Q tightly. He hissed, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the heady thrill of finally giving in to the body-aching orgasm.

I felt eternally heavy as if gravity increased a thousand fold and then I let go, embracing the next wave of my orgasm, pulsing around my heart, wrapped tight around my spine and inner thighs, blazing with need.

Q slapped my hand away from his cock and withdrew his fingers.

No!

I gasped as the orgasm faltered, and, with no stimulation, receded like a pitiful wave.

“Why? Let me come. Please, let me come!” I begged, reaching for him with my freed arms.

He ducked out of reach, unleashing my ankles before standing again. Trailing his fingers over my torso, he turned his hands to claws, raking nails across me. He didn’t break the skin, but the burn activated the whip marks, encouraging pain to smoulder. Reaching my waist, he undid the final strap and pulled me from the cross.

With a grim mouth, he murmured, “I’m not done with you yet. When you come, it will feel so f*cking unbelievable you won’t be able to move.”

He gathered me into his arms, pressing his forehead against mine and breathing deep. “Promise to obey everything I say. If you even think of rebelling or speaking against me, I’ll not be held accountable. T’as compris?” Do you understand?

I was speechless. For Q to demand I obey him, to allow him full control and acceptance never happened. He got off on fighting, on denial. I wanted to ask so many questions, but held my tongue and nodded.

I would’ve promised to do anything if it meant I could finally come.

Q backed away a little, crooking his finger for me to follow. “Come here.”

My feet moved on their own accord. I wanted to pounce on him and tackle him to the ground. Yet Q made no move to finish what he started.

My eyes darted between his intense gaze and heavy cock.

Q pointed at the ground by his feet. “Kneel.”

With a racing heart, I obeyed, folding to the floor as gracefully as I could with ten tonne lust-riddled limbs. The thick carpet welcomed, easing some of the soreness from the cross.

Q placed a hand on my head before walking slowly behind me. His fingers stayed locked with my hair, tugging it a little. With powerful hands, he gathered the strands. I shivered.

He captured every wisp and unruly curl, then twisted the thick strands until he made a blonde rope.