Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(19)

Tess froze on the barstool, never taking her eyes off Suzette. Anyone with half a brain could see she wasn’t the same carefree woman who’d giggled only moments ago. She was a ghost of her former self. The beaten slave who was so badly mangled internally she would never have children.

My words seemed to sink in, and Suzette slowly nodded. Gradually her shoulders relaxed, and she placed the ingredients on the counter. “Sorry. Momentary lapse, that’s all.”

“Are you okay?” Tess whispered.

My eyes shot to her. Her body had mirrored Suzette’s—tense, hunched, protective from whatever enemy they feared. Tess hadn’t told me what happened in Mexico, but if she ever did, I wouldn’t be responsible for the string of corpses that would be left behind.

We’d made a vow to hunt the cocksuckers down, and I planned to start that journey today. We’d already waited too long.

Suzette shook herself, shedding the last remaining fear. “Of course. Ignore me. Pretend you never saw that.” She waved her hand, laughing. It sounded genuine, if not for the brittle edge. “I’m going to get started on my to-do list. I’ll see you when you come back tonight.”

Without another word, she bolted from the kitchen and disappeared.

The second she left, the unfinished lust between Tess and I erupted into spine-tingling awareness. Tess took a breath, her coffee forgotten.

“You’re the reason she’s better. You’re the reason she can laugh and enjoy life again.” The awe in her voice touched me deeply. I’d never been proud of the man I was, but Tess’s approval meant everything.

“It wasn’t just me. She cured herself by finding another interest. Her healing hasn’t been easy.”

Tess shook her head, eyes glistening with reverence. “She wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you.” Her voice dropped to a husky rasp; my cock instantly reacted.

She hopped off the stool, moving toward me like a perfect doll: blonde halo, porcelain skin, and thick lashes guarding the most stunning pair of eyes I’d ever seen.

The look she gave undid me.

She accepted me. She wanted me. She made me feel worthy.

I was struck dumb. I lost sensation of the warmth of my coffee cup. I forgot how to blink and breathe. All I could do was stare at the woman who was successfully breaking me into smithereens just by being alive.

What the f*ck is happening to me?

The need between us crescendoed, arching like static electricity.

Tess’s lips parted, and I couldn’t look anywhere else. We took a step in perfect unison, compelled to be closer, unable to live with any distance between us.

I licked my lips, almost in physical pain with the need to kiss her. To whip her. Fuck her. Flay her. Possess her.

My chest pumped as I reached to capture the back of her neck. Her hair coiled upward, freeing her snowy skin. The urge to yank her into my embrace vibrated my muscles.

Images of ravaging her in the pantry flashed across my thoughts. We’d never make it to the bedroom. I needed her. That. Fucking. Second.

Tess was immobile, breathing shallow, the little buttons on her shirt strained against her breasts.

“I meant every word,” I whispered. Ducking my head to nuzzle her throat, drowning myself in frost and scent that was uniquely Tess.

“Umm…” she moaned, reaching for my lapels, dragging me closer. I lost my footing, crashing into her, forcing her to back up and collide with the kitchen bench.

“You’re my gravity. Je suis à toi,” I murmured. I’m yours.

How could I f*ck this woman, sleep beside her, and care for her when I didn’t even know her? My heart knew hers, my body belonged to hers, but I didn’t own her mind.

And I wanted to. Needed to.

Grabbing her hips, I positioned her square with my cock. Her taut belly quivered as I pressed hard against her, pinning her against the counter. “I need to know you, Tess. I need to own every last thing about you.”

Possessiveness snarled deep in my belly and muscles locked with anger. I wanted to own her past, her present, her future. I wanted to be her first and last and f*cking forever. I wanted to wipe everything from her life where I wasn’t the centre point of her evolution.

Fuck.

My lips crashed down on hers, and we moaned loudly. Her hands disappeared around my waist, frantically trying to pull my shirt from the waistband.

Her tongue entered my mouth with no apology, stealing every rational thought. She demanded anger. She demanded feral and brutal, but for once—for the first time ever—I wanted to kiss her sweetly.

I couldn’t stop the low chuckle escaping me.

She broke the kiss, an eyebrow quirked.

I shook my head, still lightheaded from the taste of coffee and Tess in my mouth.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“You can’t laugh mid-kiss and refuse to tell me, Q.” One of her hands came around the front of my trousers, dropping to cup my cock.

I flinched, bowing closer as she tugged me hard. “I want to know.”

The beast inside roared, and I fought the urge to slap Tess’s hand away. She was getting too bold around me. She wasn’t frightened enough to satisfy the sickness inside, but at the same time, her touch turned me on beyond belief.

Gone was the compulsion to be sweet. Sweet, tender… I spoke three languages, but I failed to understand those words. Whatever lurked inside would never learn them. It was a moment of insanity to think otherwise. But I wanted to keep Tess in one piece and to do that, I had to tame myself. No matter how much the leash would hurt.