Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(72)

He froze, hands covering mine. “What are you doing, esclave?”

Tess. My name is Tess.

I added pressure, massaging his scalp with firm strokes. He shuddered under my touch. “Helping rid your headache.” Sliding fingers lower, cupping the base of his skull, I leaned forward and brushed his ear with my lips. “If you’ll let me?”

Q sucked in a breath, chest straining against his suit. My knees locked as lust kindled hot and twisty in my belly.

He squeezed my hands, bordering on pain, before falling away, granting permission.

The thrill at being allowed made me lightheaded. I pressed harder, swirling with pads of my fingers, adding a touch of nail.

Q moaned, eyes drifting closed as I ran my fingers down to his upper neck all the while pressing, coaxing, stealing the pain through touch. I ran hands from the base of his skull, all the way to the front of his forehead.

“Ouf, une sensation incroyable.” That feels amazing. He groaned louder as I circled around his ears, pressing fingers against his temples.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I cared for my master, and he liked it. Would he reward me?

I smiled softly. Q had won. He won the battle of wills by granting his vulnerability. I would give him my name, the next time he asked—not because he demanded, but because I wanted.

My back ached as I massaged, pressing, kneading. I kept going—as long as he needed.

Eventually, he covered my hands again, ordering softly, “You can sit now. The pain has broken a little. Merci.”

I didn’t want to stop; standing over him gave a sense of ownership. With one last caress, I obeyed and perched on a chair.

He watched with half-lidded eyes. The lines on his forehead were diminished, and the tightness around his mouth less prominent. Eyes were still bruised, but weren’t glazed and unfocused.

We stared, lust sparking, both unable to look away. Q was the black storm cloud, sucking me toward him like I was a rapidly flying sparrow. The difference between his tattoo, and now, was I wanted to stop flying and let the cloud capture me.

“Thank you, esclave.” He dropped his eyes, sitting straighter in the chair.

A shiver danced on my skin, and I reached for the folder, giving myself something to do.

Q watched with unreadable eyes. I sneaked glances at him as I fiddled with the file. I changed our relationship by tending. As his slave, I shouldn’t want anything to do with him, let alone nurse him back to health. But the knowledge that my master—my angry, crazy, lusty master—let me care, made me wet and tingly.

My mind pretzeled, trying to figure out my feelings. Why did caring for Q make me powerful and content and lost, all at the same time?

Q didn’t say a word as I opened the folder, peering inside.

I frowned at the scrawling French text. I may understand spoken French with ease, but I wasn’t very good at reading.

Q inched forward, linking hands between open thighs. Just like he did when I first arrived and he secured the tracking anklet on me. My ankle itched, thinking about the device, funny how I’d grown so used to it. It was my safety blanket—the knowledge Q would always come for me—just like he said in my dreams.

He pointed at the top of the page where a logo stood out: a bird silhouette in flight with a background of sweeping skyscrapers. “Moineau Holdings,” Q said.

My heart rate quickened. I looked into his eyes. “Sparrow Holdings.”

He nodded, opening his mouth to answer, then stopped. He cleared his throat. “You said you knew about property. This is my legacy. I’ve procured over five hundred acquisitions in under twelve years.” His eyes glazed. “I took over when I was sixteen. It rules my life, but I’m thankful for what it gives me in return. What I’m able to do with the money.”

He never spoke like this. I couldn’t move, in case I broke the spell and he shut down.

Pride filled his gaze; for once, the aura of anger and self-deprecation left, suffocated beneath a powerful CEO who ruled an empire. “It used to be called Mercer Conglomerates when my father owned it.” Hate thickened his voice, hands curled. “The moment he died, I changed it. Not only the name, but the entire company’s structure.”

Silence fell, and I didn’t want to speak, move, or bring any attention to myself. Q spoke as if I were more than just a sex toy or belonging. He allowed me to see the passion in his heart for a company I knew nothing about. He hinted at a wealth I couldn’t comprehend, and a lifetime of servitude to a company he ran from a teenager.

Q bristled with anger, mentioning his father. Curiosity burned, and I wished I knew what happened. Did his father beat him?

Blinking away memories, he waved a hand at the folder. “Read it. I’d like to know your thoughts on this particular acquisition.”

“What?” I couldn’t stop my incredulous tone. I stared at the folder as if it stole my slave status and flung me into an employee. I didn’t want to be Q’s employee, I wanted him equally. Then answer him… he’s asking you as a woman—he’s seeing you.

Heart racing, I looked at the page, tracing the sparrow logo with a shaking finger.

Q breathed hard, rubbing a temple. “I’m asking what you think, esclave. You studied property feasibilities at university, didn’t you? Unless you lied about that, too?”

His dig at lying about my name irked. I’m ready to tell you. Just ask.