Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(63)

In one swift move, I sat upright, stole the tracker, and secured it around my ankle. The snap of plastic echoed around the hushed space; heart thudded. I’d tagged myself. I willingly admitted I wouldn’t run again.

Q sucked in a breath, capturing my wrist when I went to pull away. He traced the barcode tattooed on my flesh. His face flashed with hatred and anger, but his ire wasn’t directed at me. My heart warmed, knowing he hated the people who stole me.

His fingers turned harsh, eyes captured mine. “How bad was it, when they took you?”

I waited for anger and terror for what they did, but I felt nothing. I didn’t know if I blocked it out, or if the rape dulled my senses.

Shrugging, I tried to tug my arm back. “It was the worst week of my life, until last night.”

“Worse than me?” he murmured. His voice held an edge, almost as if his question meant a lot more than what he asked.

Wanting to give him something, after all he did for me last night, I nodded. “A lot worse.”

He shook his head, eyes unfocused. Memories swirled in their depths and I wanted to chase him wherever he went. I wanted to know him. Would he ever let me get close? Was a slave allowed to help her owner, while letting him use her body? I didn’t know the rules.

Q finally released me, presenting the other package. “This is for you.” His jaw clenched as I held my hands out, accepting the large sketchpad and charcoal pencils. I opened it and couldn’t breathe. Inside, architectural graph paper—the exact kind I used in my university course—glowed fresh and new.

My eyes widened. “You remembered what I told you…that first breakfast when you kissed me.”

He sat straighter, tension rippling in his body. “I remember everything, esclave. I remember how you smell, how you taste. I remember how you feel inside and how terrified you were when I found you at Lefebvre’s residence. I also know things you haven’t told me. You secretly like what I do to you, you think you hide it, but I know that darkness in your eyes. It feeds me, calls to me.”

He fisted the covers, throwing them off me, exposing my body. “Why else do you think I can’t leave you alone?”

I couldn’t look away from his gaze; his intensity trapped me, searing with need and want. When I didn’t answer, he ordered, “Get out of bed.”

For a moment, I wanted to disobey, to see what he’d do, but some small part was truly scared of him. I hustled to leave the warm nest. Swinging my legs over the edge, I stood.

Immediately, he grabbed my hips, positioning me in front of him. Breathing grew harsh as he ran his gaze over my unsexy ensemble.

He frowned, thoughts running over his face. He pushed away, stalking to the dresser. Opening a drawer, he fumbled inside before withdrawing a lacy G-string. I gulped as he came back, swinging the knickers on his middle finger.

“Stand by the bed post.” His voice dropped even lower, yelling intentions in every syllable.

I didn’t move, fighting too many complexities to order my legs to work.

Grinding his teeth, he grabbed my arm, tugging me down the bed to stand in front of a white lacquered bed post. “Put your arms above your head.”

He was so close; a heavy cloud of sandalwood and spice buffeted, turning knees to water. I stretched, arching my back against the pillar, deliberately forcing my breasts to touch his chest. He startled, raising an eyebrow, before reaching up and securing my wrists with the G-string. The lacy material bit into skin, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as being chained in the sparrow room. At least my feet were on carpet, and no guests saw my suffering.

Q bent his head, leaning his length against mine. His hips pressed hard, dominating.

I tilted my chin, positioning lips for him to kiss me. He never closed his eyes and pale green irises made me feel as if I’d entered a wood glen where naughty fairy men took advantage of fair maidens.

I swallowed hard as he came within a fraction of kissing me. But, with a crooked smile, he pulled back. “You want me to kiss you, esclave. That’s not how this works.”

Reaching into a back pocket, he pulled free a pair of silver scissors. Fear widened my eyes. What the hell?

“You don’t get to choose what I do to you. Because you want me to kiss you, I won’t.”

I moaned, then flinched, wishing I could slap a hand over my traitorous mouth. God, Tess, way to sound desperate. I didn’t want to be tied up and abused. So why do you ache for it? Shit, I was sick. The rape must’ve done something, made me a danger whore. But that was a lie. The only thing that happened was Q. He controlled my body like a puppeteer—I had no will to disobey—I couldn’t disobey.

Maybe I should try to find the centre of calm from the day I sucked Q. The safe zone might protect from more upsetting thoughts. Save my sanity, stop me from leaping willingly into a realm of bondage and kink.

I closed my eyes, trying hard to tap into blank safety. Fear swelled. If I didn’t stop my desires now, I might slide down a slippery slope, never finding my way back to normal.

You were never normal. I pursed my lips, feeling lost and confused. How could I want two things at the same time? Roughness, freedom… both taunted with agonising temptation.

Q took my chin in his thumb and forefinger, hypnotising me with his gaze. “Don’t. Stay with me.”

How did he feel me withdrawing? I shook my head, dislodging his fingers. “What gave me away?”