I hung my head, chastised. Guess, I wouldn’t know.
Q paced in a circle around me, dragging the flogger over my skin. “It’s not about hurting you, sweet Tess. It’s about branding you. Your skin is pure as snow, and I get to mark it.” He flogged my ass again. It caught a whip mark and blazed with agony. “It’s the wrongness, the rightness, I need your pain.” He whispered in my ear, “I’m invincible when I hurt you.”
Images of dark terror filled me. Every muscle in my body screamed to run. The safe word danced on my tongue. I’m stronger than this. I invited this. I won’t say it… not yet.
Q hit me particularly hard. It made the bee sting seem like a giant wasp, but I didn’t make a sound.
He groaned, tracing a finger over the new injury. “So fucking perfect.”
I breathed shallowly, wanting to see. Needing to see.
“You deserve a reward, Tess,” he said it so sweetly, as if I was a good girl and earned a lollipop. But his domination made me very aware I wouldn’t be getting an ice-cream.
The pain once again morphed to tender hooks of passion, and I welcomed the burn. Welcomed the marks Q branded.
He ripped the blindfold off, kissing me, holding my hair so I couldn’t move away as he fucked my mouth with a tongue that wouldn’t let me breathe.
I gasped and choked, but the moment he left, I wanted more. I wanted to die with him kissing me.
With glinting pale eyes, Q folded to his knees in front of me. “Put your legs over my shoulders,” he demanded.
I blinked. “My legs on your shoulders?” I flushed with embarrassment at the thought of him so close to my pussy—spread and exposed. I was so wet it trickled down my thigh. I shook my head, unable to be so vulnerable.
Q reached and slapped my ass. His hand connected with whip marks; I yelped.
“Do as I command, Tess.” He stressed my name and it did exactly as he wanted. It reminded he owned me, therefore I had no choice.
Hesitantly, I cocked one leg, placing it on his shoulder. His eyes dropped to my centre, face darkening with need. Self-consciousness painted my cheeks. When my other leg stayed firmly planted on the ground, he glared. “You have two legs. Put them on my shoulders.” His voice rasped, chest working hard.
His passion granted a burst of feminine courage. Jumping, I shifted my weight to the cuffs and I straddled Q’s shoulders—suspended, completely at his mercy. Arms came up to hold my ass, biceps clenching. He didn’t tear his gaze away from my pussy. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He kissed my inner thigh in a fleeting move, breath hot. “Here’s your reward for letting me hurt you.” His voice deepened to brimstone and my head snapped back as his mouth latched onto my clit.
My legs spread on his shoulders gave full access, and he took advantage.
His tongue wasn’t shy, swirling around my clit, licking, sucking. Plunging into my wetness, tongue-fucking as if possessed.
It was too much. Too intense. I moaned and whimpered and struggled and wriggled. Little stars shot and fizzled and tormented with every flick of his tongue, every suck of his mouth.
He pressed his tongue so far inside I cried out, wishing it was his cock buried deep. “Please, master…more…” My body was beyond ready to be claimed, bruised, reawakened into passionate pleasure.
The whip marks heated unbearably, my skin rivered with sweat from the fire, and nipples screamed for relief. I rocked my hips into Q, forcing his tongue deeper, demanding him to be rougher.
“Fuck yes,” he groaned, fingers digging into my hips as he dragged me closer. His entire face between my legs. He growled as he bit my clit. Not a simple nip—but a full savage bite.
I screamed as my pussy contracted, thrumming with its own heartbeat. I thrashed, trying to get closer, trying to get away. I want more. I can’t handle more.
My mind broke completely, ruled by the need to come. “Fuck me, Q. Fuck me. I can’t… I can’t stand it.”
He pushed my thighs, and I melted off him. He stood lightning quick as I swung from the ceiling, trembling. My head lolled, and my eyes were too heavy to keep open. I wanted to scissor my legs to find some relief from the torture. Q turned me from rational woman into a craving addict who needed a fix. I needed his cock. I needed my master.
Q captured my jaw; I opened unwilling eyes. “You can’t stand it. Can you?” His sexy five o’ clock shadow glistened from eating me out. I swung forward, wanting to lick him, to clean him. My mouth watered at the thought of sucking him. I wanted to bite his cock just like he’d bitten me. I wanted it so much, I’d explode if I didn’t get it.
I tried to make sentences form. “I can’t stand the thought of not having you fuck me.”
His eyes snapped closed before he regained control, murmuring, “You’ve submitted completely, and you have no idea what that does to me.”
I had an idea. The same insane, mind-crippling feeling he did to me. If I wasn’t restrained, I’d pounce on him and fuck him till the tingly, urgent, consuming need disappeared. The only problem was, I didn’t think it would ever disappear. And I didn’t want it to.
“Say it again, Tess.” Q let me go, unbuttoning his blazer.
I breathed hard, panting as he ripped the jacket off, dropping it on the floor.
“Fuck me, master. I can’t stand not having you.”
He groaned, kicking off his shoes as he undid his tie. An evil glint entered his eyes. He slid the cream tie in his fingertips, looking at it then back to me.
My heart lurched as he advanced. “Open.”
I shook my head. “No. I won’t be able to breathe.”
“You’ll breathe around it. You can bite down.”
I clamped my mouth, moaning as he forced the tie between my lips, tying it. Once secured, he kissed my gagged mouth, running the tip of his tongue along my bottom lip. “You look incroyable gagged and bound, esclave. I’ll suffer the embarrassment of coming in my trousers every time I think of tonight.”
Stepping back, he stripped. Not bothering to undo buttons, he tore his shirt open. Pings of plastic sounded as buttons flew wild.
My mouth dried, taking in his perfection. His smooth chest, cut with perfect muscles. Sparrows fluttered, inked in blacks and browns, seeming alive with their feathered detail. He undid his belt, then his fly, and stepped from his trousers.
Standing proud with only black boxer-briefs remaining, Q fondled his thick erection while staring. Eyes zeroed in on my nipple clamped breasts. “Your flesh is so swollen, Tessie.”
I jerked. Tessie. Brax’s nickname for me. Guilt washed over me like a tsunami and I coughed with pain. I’d betrayed Brax in the worst possible way. I was a disloyal bitch.
Q prowled close, looping fingers though the gag. “What did I say? Why do you hurt?”
I looked down, trying hard to push Brax away. I shouldn’t care, but I did. It was a mistake to ask Q to call me by my name. Tess might love the sadistic erotic games with Q, but Tessie… she belonged to a simpler past.
Our eyes locked, and Q seemed to understand. “You don’t like it when I call you that.”
I wished I felt differently but a tear rolled, and I nodded.
He licked the droplet. “I don’t care for Tessie either. You’re mine. My Tess.”
My eyes glazed and I swooned into him. Guilt evaporated and my lust returned a thousand fold. I came to life under his stare.
And he knew it. He pulled his cock free, wrapping fingers around the thick girth, stroking hard. “Do you like it when I call you that? Mine? All fucking mine.”
I shook my head, just to be troublesome. I couldn’t look away from Q stroking himself. I arched my back, trying to find relief by rubbing tortured nipples on his chest.
He shuddered, pumping his cock. Reaching with his other hand, he speared two fingers inside, stealing my wetness to smear over the tip, using my lubricant as his own.
I groaned and my body unravelled. My pussy clutched nothing, needing him inside. Nothing else mattered in the world but hav
ing him. I wanted to scream at him to fuck me, but the bloody gag turned my words to moans.
He pressed his cock against my stomach, hitting me with it. I moaned and thrashed, trying to get closer.
“Put your legs around my hips.” Q held out his arms, ready to catch me.
Finally. Yes. Yes.
I jumped, spreading my legs at the same time, using the binds to hoist myself. I fitted snug against him. His hotness against my wetness. His throbbing cock so close, it made me insane.
His eyes flashed as I rocked, smearing sensual liquid all over his cock and balls. He groaned as I thrust unashamedly, providing much needed friction. I could come like this. Humping my master like a dog in heat.
Reaching between us, he pushed me back. Guiding his cock, he angled to meet my entrance.
In one fast move, with hands on my hips, he pulled me onto him. Impaling me completely. His length hit the top of my womb, bruising, stretching. The invasion turned my mind to mush. I went rigid, moaning like the whore I was.
Q’s face darkened with savage lust as he thrust once, fingers stabbing into flesh. “Fuck, my cock belongs in you.” With one hand, he slapped my breast, activating the clamp to squeeze, sending hurt and spasms of eager dampness between my legs. I wouldn’t last long. Shit, I was so close, I rippled with release already. An orgasm teetered on a knife-edge—sharp and deadly.
He rolled his hips, meticulously slowly, dragging every ridge of him along every ridge of me. I wanted to scream. I didn’t want slow. I wanted a rampage.
“Raise your eyes,” Q ordered.
I guided super heavy eyes from watching his cock fucking me, locking with his. Pale jade fire blazed with demons he kept locked away. They flittered ghostlike, swarming, urging him to lose control.
He growled and thrust once.
Twice.
Three times with ecstasy.
I tossed my head, chewing on the gag, needing to moan, to vocalize just how much he violated me—how much further I wanted him to go.
He bucked again, grinding his teeth. “I hate you for making me break my vow.” His face twisted with self-loathing and black delight. “Qu’est ce que tu es en train de me faire?” What are you doing to me?
Before I could answer, Q lost all control. Baring his teeth, he dropped the barrier to his demons, pounding into me. There was no rocking, or gentle lovemaking. He pistoned hips into mine, grunting, sweating, a crazed look in his eye. His manicured nails raked my ass, digging deep like rabid claws, inflicting pain in other ways.
The gag barricaded my screams. I bounced in his arms, breasts jiggling with every thrust. The room erupted with the sounds of heavy breathing and slapping sweaty skin. The air temperature was too hot. Q was too much. My body couldn’t handle the sensory overload.
Oh, God. Oh, God. I’m coming…
“Tu es à moi.” You’re mine. Q leaned back, using my weight as a counter leaver, driving upward. His cock so hot and hard, stretching me to breaking point.
My heart sprouted wings, and flew. The build-up of the release rose and rose, never peaking. Fear laced with need. Too intense. I didn’t think I’d survive it.
The gag blocked air, and the lack of oxygen made my head swim. All I could think about was Q and his nails and his cock and his ragged breathing.
Q leaned back further, head falling as he fucked impossibly harder. His hipbones bruised my inner thighs as he gave me the rampage I needed.
“Fuck, Tess. Fuck yes. Take it. Putain, ta chatte est faite pour ma bite.”Fuck, your cunt fits my cock so well.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hold it any longer. My entire body split in half, but the release still didn’t crest.
Please, please, God. I need… I can’t. I… I…
“Look at me,” Q growl-panted.
I obeyed and drowned in his smouldering green. Tension thrummed, consuming, and another element stole us. We were no longer master and slave. We were two rutting animals focused on one goal.
“Master, please…” I begged around the material in my mouth.
Q stiffened with power, thrusting as his eyes flared wide and lips parted. “I’ll give you what you need.” His body convulsed and a low angry groan ripped from his throat. A hot pulse of semen filled and that was all I needed.
I combusted.
Every atom in my body detonated and fired. My pussy fisted around Q’s relentless erection and I screamed. Q’s mouth latched onto my neck, biting. I transcended from my mere mortal body, riding wave after wave of eye-popping, brain-splintering euphoria.
Q grunted, thrusting in time to my release; teeth never let up on my collarbone and a slick trail of blood trickled from my throat where he bit. Some primal part of my brain went wild. I loved that he needed me so bad, he broke my skin. I loved how delicate his tongue was, lapping up my essence.
I shuddered as swell after swell continued, slowly getting less intense. My feet cramped and my entire body felt as if I’d been run over.
With trembling fingers, Q undid my gag, then my wrists. Catching my weight, he cradled me, folding us the floor. We fell in a tangle of limbs onto the thick white carpet, covering it with sweat, come, and drops of blood.
Q didn’t withdraw, and somehow managed to twist me so I faced away. Not saying a word, he tucked me closer, spooning me with his hard body.
His heart thudded against my back, matching the erratic pace of mine.
I snuggled closer, blissfully content. Q hurt me, but adored me, all at the same time. He gave me everything I needed. The intimacy between us couldn’t be described and I shivered as he unclamped my nipples, rubbing them gently.
He sighed deeply and yawned. The alcohol in his system no doubt left him depleted.
You used me, but you kept me safe. I tried to transmit the thought. My body wasn’t capable of speech. Q mumbled something, pulling me closer.
The sun pinked the sky outside and Q twitched, already drifting into oblivion.
Tonight had changed my life. Q may make my soul weep and tear itself into pieces but he made it operatic with joy, too. My soul didn’t just sing, it rejoiced.
I finally found a place where my twistedness belonged.
In Q’s arms.
Chapter Twenty-One
Pheasant
‡
Pain and achiness woke me.
Memories of last night swirled, thick and fast. My body clenched, remembering Q’s rampant fucking, his drunken ramblings about girls and winter. He gave clues; I just had to figure out the metaphors to understand.
And I wasn’t capable right now. My brain was sludge, body hissing with lashes and bruises. I felt used, abused, and entirely adored.
I shifted, trying to get comfortable. The thick carpet cushioned, but also tickled. Q moaned and held me tighter, a muscular arm banded around my stomach. Incredibly, he was still inside, flaccid but still big enough for me to be very aware of the intrusion.
I rocked my hips a little, trying to rouse him.
His breathing changed from deep to shallow. Slowly, he stiffened, filling me like a balloon, stretching until I ached with reminders of how hard he took me last night.
I bit my lip as his nose brushed aside tangled hair, kissing softly.
With a soft groan, he rocked.
My eyes closed as dexterous fingers captured my nipple, rolling tenderly. So different from the angry dominance from last night. Q wasn’t the one fucking me this morning. It was Quincy.
I moaned, pushing back, matching his rock. We languished and delighted, not chasing a body-splitting orgasm, but more a gentle glow.
His hand trailed from breast to core, playing with my clit as the rock turned serious, claiming.
I whimpered as Q wrapped his leg around mine, trapping me. With the extra purchase, he thrust, pressing upward, hitting the top of my womb.
“I never thought I’d enjoy vanilla,” he mumbled into my hair.
I froze. What did he mean? He’d never shared intimacy before? The gentleness of s
ex compared to angry rutting?
His breathing caught, not noticing I’d withdrawn, trying to analyse what he meant. His fingers smeared my clit with wetness, rubbing erotically, giving me no choice but to pay attention.
“Come for me, esclave.” His order was breathless; his leg wrapped around mine, tensed.
He thrust harder, tainted with some of the violence I was used to from Q. Pinching my clit, he forced me to come. My body clenched and quivered, welcoming Q’s orgasm as he filled me with his seed. His soft moan sent my heart fluttering, and I smiled.
*
We must have drifted again. I woke to a knock.
Q flinched, unwrapping himself from around me. Our skin popped slightly as suction tried to keep us together. Q grumbled, holding his head. “Merde, how much did I drink last night?”
I laughed softly. “Enough to ramble about birds and girls and…” My voice drifted. Sadness replaced my post conjugal glow. “I’m number fifty-eight.”
Air chilled as Q froze. “What?” Eyes flared with panic. “I said that?” He scooted upright, wincing.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his trim, toned body. His heavy cock still glistened from being inside me. The sparrow tattoo filled me with sorrow for some inexplicable reason.
“Can you tell me now? What do the birds have to do with the fifty-seven slaves you’ve had before me?”
Q swiped a hand over his face, pacing away. Gathering his trousers, he refused to look at me. Pulling them on, he didn’t bother with underwear. I hadn’t seen his tattoo from behind, but the cloud looked ominous and evil. A nightmare of thorns and branches trying to devour innocent little birds.
My gaze fell, unable to look any longer. I gasped. Everywhere, my skin was purple with faint bruises and pink with abrasions from the flogger. I twisted, hissing between my teeth to look at my back. Lashes crossed in a lattice pattern, flaming with soreness. He hadn’t broken the skin, but damn, it hurt.
Slinging his buttonless shirt on, Q spun around. He passed me a fur blanket from the bed. “You’ll have to wear this to your room, seeing as I burned your clothes.”
Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Page 275
