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

She said I hadn’t hurt her with my belt. She lied. I drew blood, for f*ck’s sake. And I lived in a constant battleground, fighting the delicious satisfaction at her pain against my morality and horror at hurting her.

I never knew where the black urges came from. They were as much a part of me as my genetic code.

Tess didn’t deserve to be hurt—no woman did. But she was willing to sacrifice her screams for me. For the promise of something I wasn’t sure I could give.

I f*cking shouldn’t want to beat the ever-living daylights out of her, but I did. Oh, shit how I did.

“Q. You can’t keep all your thoughts locked up now you’ve let me into your life. I see the torment in your eyes. You promised you’d talk and let me in.” Her voice bled pain while her tiny fists clutched the sheets in annoyance.

We’d both made promises, and so far, neither of us had lived up to them. Not that it mattered—I had every intention of breaking my end of the bargain. She wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t strong enough.

Ce sont les premiers jours, idiot. Détends toi. Early days, idiot. Just relax.

But I couldn’t relax. I wasn’t strong enough to fight the urge to be such a manic bastard if I didn’t keep a tight rein at all times. Look what I did when Tess first arrived as my slave. I had no choice but to hunt her, hurt her, devour her.

If I had been a better man, I would’ve walked back up the stairs and ordered Franco to remove her immediately. Now I stood on the precipice of a dream come true—a woman who saw the real me, accepted me, and wanted a future with me—and all I could do was drown in nightmares of killing her.

“I’m exhausted,” I murmured. Did she hear the ulterior confession? That it hadn’t even been a week of accepting this relationship, and I was already f*cking frayed. I needn’t have asked—of course Tess saw the truth. She saw too damn much.

“Stop fighting then. You haven’t touched me since I came back to you. We may share a bed, but you hardly look at me apart from when I flinch if I sit on a sore spot on my ass. You’re more remote than when I was sold to you.”

I growled deep in my chest at the sold remark. I hated the cunts who’d stolen and sold her. Every time I thought about what might’ve happened to Tess if she’d been given to another, I wanted to turn feral—to strip the falseness of businessman and paint my walls with their blood. Screw having civilized business meetings with criminals. I was done with that shit.

Images of Tess bound and beaten, raped and ruined, constantly assaulted me. The ironic thing was—now I was the bastard responsible. But by letting me use her, I found myself wanting to offer everything I had in return for her gasps of fear and whimpers of pain. I didn’t feel worthy and didn’t think I’d ever repay the debt of her gift.

My hands curled, and I trembled with pent-up rage. Anger directed at myself.

I’m f*cking insane.

I sighed deeply, sucking in courage to give Tess a little of what she needed—a tiny insight into my rotten core of a mind.

“I can’t be tender with you. And I hate that I got carried away with hitting you.” There? Was she f*cking satisfied? I opened up to her about things I wished I could vomit out of me. Hurl this darkness from deep inside; purge my heart so I could be sweet and kind and the perfect man for her. Not the savage, sex-hungry beast.

Her breath caught, and a soft finger trailed along my forearm. “Thank you. You don’t know what a relief it is for you to talk to me. Can you tell me about your nightmare now?”

I glared at her and sat upright. Pushy woman. She’d successfully freaked me out and pissed me off with her questions.

Rolling to the side of the huge bed, I perched on the edge with my head in my hands. I didn’t want to be a coward and run, but this was all too new. My tower room with its massive fireplace and ocean-sized white carpet still looked the same, nothing outward had changed, but Tess wreaked havoc on my soul. I didn’t know if I’d survive allowing her to dig deeper into my world.

The nightmare roared back to full colour. All that blood, so bright with a coppery tang, almost sweet.

No. I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t strong enough. Somehow the evilness of my father would make me do the one thing I’d run from my entire life. I lived my life with rules, shackles. I wasn’t prepared to let a delicate, fragile little bird taunt me to untwine myself and chase her.

I’d win.

And I’d lose when I killed her.

On dirait une fille, putain, mercer! You sound like a f*cking girl, Mercer.

I flinched as Tess scampered across the bedspread and draped herself over my naked back. Her soft fingertips traced my tattoo of fluttering sparrows and barbwire. I clenched my jaw as her touch whispered lower and lower, down my abs, heading to my cock.

I meant to stop her. I really did, but she grasped me hard through my boxer-briefs; I groaned. One touch was all I needed to make me achingly hard and drowning in dark desire.

Tess coaxed me to rigidness, all the while nibbling on my ear. “If you’re frightened of hurting me, Q…you won’t. I trust you not to go too far.”

I bit out, “I don’t trust you yet. I don’t want to break you.” I don’t trust myself to stop.

She stopped stroking and pulled back. Her warmth left me with a shiver. “I gave you my word to fight you. I’ve slept in your bed for four nights, and the most you’ve done is peck my cheek good night. You haven’t used your belt or chains or any of those toys I glimpsed in that mirrored chest of yours.”