Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(24)

“Just like that.”

“Juste comme ?a.” Just like that. His gaze flickered up, drawing fire and the beautiful wonderful feeling of want. I’d missed the flush; worried I’d be destined to be cold and lifeless inside. Q ran the pad of his thumb over my knuckles, sending shivers arching over my skin.

My entire body grew heavy, lethargic, spreading with warm, scrumptious anticipation. What were we talking about? Ah, yes, Volière. “I’ll never get used to your wealth.”

Q unwound my fingers from his, moving his palm to my hip. I jolted at the fierce shock of him touching me. Every second that passed the car fogged with whatever built between us. It dewed on my eyelashes, spreading lazy fronds through my heart.

Q’s hand drifted down my side where the seat-belt fastened. With his eyes locked on mine, he pressed the button and released me. The car continued to drift forward through traffic, shuttling us to who knew where in our own private world.

Tugging me forward, Q murmured, “Well, you better get used to it because it’s all yours. No pre-nups, no stupid documents or lawyers. As far as I’m concerned, every euro is yours.”

He didn’t stop pulling until I slid into his lap. Every inch I travelled over his rock hard thighs, I struggled to catch my breath. I existed purely on the lust-filled cognizance budding between us. “I can’t take it.”

I couldn’t take a penny from this man. Not after he’d given me so much. Even now he gave me so much in the form of remembrance—bringing my body back to life, filling me with liquid heat and joy.

Q’s right. Getting married with the clouds hanging over our heads was a mistake. The clouds were building, thickening, filling with threatening thunder and lightning. The storm would ruin our fragile happiness in one strike. I didn’t want to risk losing this. Losing him.

I’d already lost myself—still trying to wiggle through the bars of my captivity to grasp freedom. I would never be the fierce young woman I’d been. I had to find who I was now, before I could give Q everything.

Q captured my hand, spinning the new ring on my wedding finger. The diamonds danced and pranced, set perfectly in wing-shaped gold.

“Knowing there’s a tracker in there—knowing I’ll always have you close, is the only reason why my migraines have given me a reprieve.” Q’s voice barely rose above a whisper. “You’ve cured me in so many ways, esclave, but you’ve ruined me in so many others.” He brought my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles with barely hidden reverence.

“How? How have I ruined you?” I tingled where our bodies touched. His arm rested around my back, holding me close while his chest and legs cushioned me like a living chair.

Q chuckled, bringing his head up to nuzzle my throat. “In so many f*cking ways. You’ve proven I’m not untouchable.” I shivered as the tip of his tongue licked me. “You’ve taught me how vulnerable I truly am.”

My head fell back as he tugged on the ends of my hair, forcing me to arch in his arms. “You’re not vulnerable, Q. Not ever.”

His teeth grazed across my neck and for a millisecond my heart raced with fear instead of lust. The sharpness of his teeth sent my lungs suffocating for breath.

If only I needed pain like I used to. If only I could accept what he would give. There was no doubt Q would eventually want to hurt me. It was who he was. Who I loved.

And when that day came, I would whimper and fight and pretend I loved every moment of it. I would force myself to come for him. I would train my body to accept and hide the stark reality that I no longer lusted for pain. He would never know. He never needed to realize my sacrifice or gift.

The pinpricks of his teeth disappeared—soothed by a worshiping lick. “I am. Terribly.”

I moaned as his large hand teased up my side, his thumb stroking me in ever widening circles.

“You’re not. You’re the strongest, bravest—” My brain stopped working as his thumb found my nipple, whispering around it in perfect possession.

Q’s breathing increased until hot puffs tickled my neck with temptation. The swirling of his touch scrambled my coherency and I let myself drift—let myself come undone by his control.

“Pour la première fois de ma vie je suis vulnérable, parce que je suis tombée amoureuse.” For the first time in my life I'm vulnerable, all because I fell in love.

Mouth. Hands. Tongue.

Sounds ceased to exist. The hum of the tyres on the road faded; the stop and sway of the vehicle didn’t enter our realm of superb synchronicity. Every second brought a heavy blanket around us, drawing tight, shutting out the world.

“They took you. Those motherf*ckers took what I treasured the most.” His lips pressed against my throat, then collarbone, then shoulder. “They tore my heart out. You tore my heart out by making me care so much.” His voice wavered with a mixture of strength and weakness.

My heart broke for him. I’d lived my own hell but Q had his own nightmares to bear. “Tell me…talk to me.”

Touch. Breath. Lick.

Q suddenly grabbed my knee, twisting me to straddle him. With my legs spread over his lap, he thrust upward, grinding his erection against the tight web of my jeans. The dark look in his eyes was possessed, consumed with the desire to be inside me—to join us while we were linked by this brittle connection.