Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(91)

Brax pulled back, tears tracking his face. He planted a wet kiss on my lips; I forced myself not to recoil. He’s gone through hell thinking you were dead. Kiss him. Show him you still love him.

I opened my mouth, expecting a violent tongue, so conditioned to savagery, but Brax kissed sweetly, delicately, so different to Q. So different to what I needed.

He pulled away, grabbing my hands. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His eyes flew over me in panic. My grey dress was rumpled and creased, but it looked expensive. It should—it was Prada.

Brax frowned when he noticed the envelope in my grip. I still hadn’t had the balls to open it.

Hurt? Yes, in so many ways, but my wounds weren’t visible. I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

He scowled. “What happened?” He spun me around, running hands down my body. “Are you sure? How did you get here? Did you escape? Maybe we should go to a hospital?”

I laughed softly as his fingers tickled, then winced as he caught residue pain from my rib. “I’m fine. Honest. I just need to go to bed and get some rest. It’s been a really long day.” Longest day of my life.

Brax wrapped arms around me; together we walked into the dark bedroom. Our queen-sized bed waited, and the cover I made from material scraps depicting the Eifel Tower, cackled with mockery.

I slammed to a halt. Why, why, why?

The French romantic symbolism stabbed me over and over; I couldn’t take it. I stalked forward, grabbed the edge, and threw it into the corner of the room. I couldn’t sleep beneath a symbol of the country where my ex-master lived. I hoped to God he suffered as much as me. Dammit, I wanted his cold heart ripped out—like mine was. You better be howling in agony, you bastard.

I vibrated with anger, and jumped a mile when Brax touched my shoulders. “Tessie… it’s okay. I don’t know what happened, but we’ll get you help. Okay?” He tugged me toward the bed and helped me undress.

I wallowed in thoughts, memories, wishing I could reboot my brain and forget. Forget everything.

Dressed only in the silky slip from beneath the dress, we climbed into bed. The whiff of detergent and fabric softener settled my raging heart, reminding me I used to find peace here. I could find it again, if I tried.

Brax immediately brought my head to lie on his chest. It was a usual position for us and I listened to his heartbeat. Strong and steady, it lulled me into blessed numbness.

Sleep stole my world.



*



“Esclave, what do you think you’re doing?”

I froze, looking up at my master. Q stood proud and hard by the side of my bed. He stroked his rigid cock, lips parted with lust as eyes sparked with desire.

“Making myself come thinking of you f*cking me, ma?tre.”

He stroked harder. A bead of pre-cum glistened. I couldn’t stop myself. I shot upright and sucked him. Q groaned, fisting my hair as I lapped and licked and lavished.

“Fuck, esclave. Your mouth is my entire world. I want to f*ck you all day, every day. I can’t think straight not f*cking you. I want to tie you up and never let you go.” His voice ran endlessly as he thrust into my mouth, nudging the back of my throat with force.

I moaned, slinking fingers between my legs, stroking delicious wetness.

“Stop touching yourself, Tess. That’s mine. All mine.” He pushed me backward, straddling me. In one quick move, he flipped me onto my knees and spanked me so hard my skin screamed with pleasure-pain.

I pushed my ass backward, begging.

“You’re going to take everything I give. You’re not going to be able to walk. Do you like the sound of that?” His brutal hand spanked me again; I groaned.

“Yes, master. I love the sound of that.”

Q positioned himself behind and—




“Shit, Tessie, you’re soaking.”

Fingers stroked inside, smearing cream between my legs. Brax lay wedged in my open thighs and dream world dumped into reality.

It’s not real.

My heart thrummed, trying to understand. Q wasn’t real. Just a dream. I went to run hands through my hair, to pummel the thoughts of Q from my head, but fingers glinted with wetness. I touched myself in my sleep.

“You were panting and woke me up,” Brax murmured, still stroking his finger inside. “You sounded in so much pain, Tessie. Then you started fingering yourself and moaning.” His voice ached with hurt, but he kept smiling softly. “I tried to stop you, but you forced my finger inside, and well, you… you woke up.”

Shame flamed my cheeks. I looked away, unable to see the turmoil in his gaze. “I’m sorry, Brax.”

I breathed deep, battling the urge to cry. I rolled my head, searching for the scent of citrus and sandalwood. My senses were lonely, deprived of everything Q. No longer mine to reprogram, I hated how I couldn’t hide. My body gave me away, and Brax was lost and hurt.

I had to fix this. I had to do something.

Brax shifted. His heavy cock pressed against my thigh. Knowledge blazed bright; I leaned up to kiss him.

He froze as I coaxed his lips open. I could give him back his girlfriend. Show I really had returned.

With a harsh groan, he collapsed on top, fingers working deep. His touch didn’t flare or sizzle like Q’s. Horribly, I found myself growing dry, not wet.

“Tess. God, I’ve missed you.” Soft lips pressed against mine. I wanted to close my eyes, but I needed to reaffirm the man making love to me was not Q Mercer. Not this boy with messy, floppy brown hair and eyes like the sky. This was Brax. And I loved him. I do.