Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)(24)

I started to shake. My fingernails clawed into the carpet, expecting another round of belt abuse. It’d only been four days since Q welcomed me home with the aid of his belt and some ice-cold champagne.

Q bared his teeth, eyes flashing with irritation. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m not such a bastard to hit you on top of bruises that are barely healed.” Deliberately he tossed the leather to the side.

I didn’t relax, and didn’t know if I suffered regret or relief at his decency.

“I’m going to punish you in other ways. Face away.” He motioned for me to look down and I unwillingly dropped my head.

Not seeing him was worse to my oversensitive body. Without knowing what he was doing, my imagination ran overtime.

The sound of a zipper coming undone sounded loud, even over the whirr of rotor blades. Q’s hot, hard flesh connected with the back of my thighs as he pressed against me and jerked down his boxer-briefs in one swipe.

I moaned, rocking toward him. I thought his thighs were hot, but they were Antarctica compared to the inferno of his cock. It hung heavy and hard between my open thighs, teasing me to the point of mania.

He groaned, fisting his erection, dragging the head through my folds. “Fuck. Will I ever get enough of you?” As he spoke, he captured my clit with his thumb and forefinger.

I jerked and liquefied. My * rejoiced at finally having stimulation. Normally I’d need more than a simple touch, but this time just the thought of his hand on me summoned the orgasm that lived behind my eyes, in my blood, and deep in my core.

“Q…yes, Q.”

He inserted the tip of his finger inside me before pulling back and replacing it with the thick head of his cock.

The heavenly bliss of being entered, expanded and stretched, sent my heartbeat whizzing. My head was too heavy to hold up, and I let it dangle, giving in to the overwhelming exquisite anticipation of Q f*cking me.

He sank in another centimetre, his thighs rigid against mine. Another groan wrenched from his chest. “How is it I’m about to f*cking come when I exploded in your mouth an hour ago?”

I bit my lip at the ragged wonderment in his tone. He wasn’t asking me the question. It was rhetorical. He truly didn’t understand the compulsion between us—I knew I didn’t. There weren’t words or rationality to explain our bond.

Happiness scorched through me like a sunrise. Me, Tess Snow, a woman from no worth or recognition, had a power over a sadistic legend like Q. And f*ck, that turned me on.

Q spanked me again, slicing his large hand right across my ass. The previous belt marks awoke, tingling, searching for relief. Then he caressed me, leeching the heat away.

He repeated. Spank. Caress. Until my head swam and my * contracted around the small fraction of cock he let me have.

“Q!” I moaned. “Please. No more. I need you so much.”

His fingers dipped between my legs. I cried out as he smeared wetness around my clit.

“Shit.” Q’s muffled curse caused sparklers and fireworks to fizz in my blood.

I pushed back, arching my spine. My lips parted; I didn’t recognise the girl panting as if she’d run a marathon. All I cared about was coming.

“Merde, esclave, stop. For f*ck’s sake, you’re ruining me.” Even with the ferocity of Q’s anger, I thrilled with the knowledge I was winning in some small measure—the former slave training the master. If I’d been a poet, I would’ve written how serendipitous it all was. How fate entwined and cursed us both.

Q gripped my hips, propping me higher. Pulling out, the heat of his erection nudged my ass; I jolted with urgency.

Sitting higher on his knees, Q muttered, “This is going to be fast and hard, and I don’t want you to say a word, do you hear me?”

I nodded, breathless already. “I’ll do anything you want, as long as you let me come.”

“You can come, but only when I say.” His nails imprinted crescent moons into my skin, digging deep. “But if you come before, I’ll punish you worse. I won’t feel regret or remorse. I’ll find a way to punish you that doesn’t make me suffer, too.”

He rocked, and his cock eased down my ass, between my spread thighs, nudging my core.

Words were beyond me. I nodded wildly, scrabbling at the carpet. The strands wrapped around my fingers and I held on for dear life.

With urgent hands, Q untwisted my coiled ponytail and grabbed a handful.

With a jerk, he forced my head back. My spine arched as he plunged inside me.

Deep.

Hard.

Excruciating fullness.

I opened my mouth to scream, but he clamped a hand over me, riding me, containing my cries. “Shush, esclave. Not a sound, remember?”

The intrusion was pain personified, the rocking endless bliss.

The way he took me held no remnants of the sometimes sweet man beneath the blackness. This was purely brutal and dark and animalistic.

I loved it.

With his cock deep inside, his fist wrapped around my ponytail, and his other hand clasped over my mouth, he f*cked me. Bucking so hard, carpet burn incinerated my pantyhose in a matter of seconds.

But every time he thrust, I pushed back to meet him. I bowed more than I’d ever bowed before, relishing in the burn of my hair being tugged. My lungs strained as Q grunted and rutted, taking me true to his word.

Little whimpers and mewls sounded low in my throat, but Q captured every one.