Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(69)

“You’re f*cking with my head, but this time…I believe you. I believe you’re doing this for you, too. I believe you do want me to make you scream, and I’m going to f*cking love it.” He gave me a half smile looking like the true devil in the darkness. “Does that scare you?”

There was no lie. No half-truth. “No.”

His body shifted; the air filled with promise. In one swift move, Q spun me around, imprisoning me against his front and the table. The edge of the wood dug into my hips as he folded over me, pressing his chest on my back until my breasts squashed against the felt.

With nothing between us, his skin burned mine, intoxicatingly delicious.

“Good answer. This time— Je te crois.” I believe you.

My heart sprouted feathery wings, tickling my chest in hope. “You’re going to give in?”

“I’m going to give in, but not let go.”

Okay, that would have to do for now. “You’re going to trust that I want this as much as you?”

His hands trailed over my sides. “I’m going to trust you, esclave.”

“You’re going to punish me?”

“I’m going to punish you.”

“How?” I whispered.

Q paused. “How?”

“How are you going to punish me? I want to hear you say it.” Locking eyes with his over my shoulder, I squirmed against the table, dropping my hand to my front, touching the wet heat between my legs.

Q’s nostrils flared, his gaze riveted on my disappeared hand. “Tess—f*ck.”

I’d missed this—taunting, provoking. He may be in control, but I had all the power. I moaned as I stroked downward, loving how slick he’d made me.

Harsh fingers latched around my wrist, yanking my hand away. Anger decorated his face, along with sharp-edged desire. “That’s not yours to play with. That’s mine. And I’ll tell you how I’m going to f*cking punish you. I’m going to taste every inch of you. I’m going to steal all your inhibitions. You’re going to come on my fingers, tongue, and cock. You’re going to unravel, Tess, and I’m going to lick up every drop.”

His hand twisted my neck, tilting me sideways to kiss me. His mouth crashed against mine, swallowing my moan, locking his arms around me. I couldn’t do anything but accept his brutal assault. I skipped from reality the moment he caught my tongue, sucking as if every inch of my mouth belonged to him.

I knew what I was letting myself in for. I knew Q wouldn’t take it easy on me. I also knew I never wanted anything more in my life.

Kicking my ankle, Q spread my legs, positioning his cock right in the centre of my ass. Breaking the kiss, he growled, “Time for talking has ended, esclave. Now’s the time for f*cking.”

He’d said something similar just before whipping me on the cross. A thrill shot through my blood; I melted.

A hand landed on my ass, bringing with it flames and thunder. I jolted in his arms, biting my lip against the pain. “I’m going to own every inch of you tonight. Including your mind.”

I couldn’t breathe. Even the purple clouds floating in my blood couldn’t stop one question blaring in my head.

Do I still want this?

Did I still want pain or had that been false bravado—making me believe my own lies.

Q’s hand came down again, striking me in the same place, igniting a bonfire. My eyes prickled with tears even as the fire from my skin slowly migrated into my blood, heating me, dissolving every inch of my past.

Yes. Yes, I do.

The knowledge sent my hips rolling, provoking Q as I wiggled.

He struck me again, lower this time, more thigh than ass, but it felt just as good. A stinging good—a pain I’d forgotten how to compute, but my body remembered. I gave myself over to it. I wanted to turn my mind off completely.

“Who f*cking hurt you, esclave?” Q demanded, striking me again.

Huh? I blinked, clawing my way back to conscious thought. Looking over my shoulder, I locked with his wild eyes. It took a moment for the question to sink in, but then I knew. I knew what he wanted.

For the first time, I let myself get angry. Terribly, ridiculously angry. At them. I snarled, “They did.”

Q narrowed his eyes, breathing hard. “Who caused you agony?” His hand stroked my burning skin before slapping me again—the hardest one yet.

Uncomfortableness flared, along with a rush of pleasure. I filled with reckless, needy energy. “They did.”

“Who stole you from me?”

“They did.”

“Who taught you to run from pain?”

“They did.”

His hand lit up my ass, followed by his fingers tracing my crack. He dipped his touch between my legs, moving tortuously slow.

I panted and writhed, caught in the sparkly web of anticipation. Touch me. Stroke me. A whisper of a caress then Q removed his hand, teasing me to the point of rage.

“Who will make you love pain again?”

I wanted to demand he touch me, but I gave him what he wanted. “You will.”

“Who will grant you freedom with pleasure?” His fingers dipped again, feathering over the delicate skin. This time he granted me one stroke—one mind-blowing stroke across my clit.

His touch was a weapon. An aphrodisiac. I was wet. Slick. Desperate.