Je Suis a Toi (Monsters in the Dark Book 4)

by Pepper Winters

I rocked into her. “And is this giving in?”

  She smiled over her shoulder through tangled wet hair. “It’s a start.”

  I loved her.

  I adored her.

  I didn’t want to hurt her.

  Lies.

  I did want to hurt her.

  And she wanted me to.

  That was ultimate freedom.

  Bending over her, I scattered kisses down her spine. There were no toys in the hotel. We hadn’t come prepared. We weren’t at home where any number of apparatus was available to us.

  We would have to compromise and invent, but all I could think about was taking her the way I didn’t often do. A way that would punish her and reward her.

  Her eyes locked onto mine.

  Tess had such power over me—power I’d never be free of.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  Her thighs clenched. “I’m wondering what you’re about to do and hoping you lose all control.”

  I bared my teeth, heart heating with irritation. “I may be a lot of things, Tess, but if you think I’m going to open my cage fully while you’re pregnant…you don’t know me very well.”

  She pouted. “But I thought—”

  “You thought wrong.” My lips twitched in a cool grin. “However, it doesn’t mean I won’t punish you in other ways.”

  “Face away.” I motioned for her to look at the bed and not me.

  Unwillingly, she obeyed.

  Not seeing made her oversensitive body hum with uncertainty.

  My hand tickled as I indulged in the call inside. I spanked her once, turning her cooling skin pink with punishment.

  She groaned, rocking back, sandwiching her ass against my erection. “I need you.”

  My hands landed on her hips, grunting as she rocked harder. Dragging my fingers over her bare pussy, I growled. “Fuck. Will I ever get enough of you?”

  “God, I hope not.” Tess jerked as I positioned my cock at her entrance. Normally, I’d play with her and tease, but after the incredible news of our future, I just needed to connect. Immediately.

  A much-needed release throbbed in my blood.

  “Q…yes, Q.” Tess threw back her head as I slipped inside her. The heavenly warmth of my wife sheathing me sent my heartbeat colliding with my ribs. I entered her an inch at a time.

  With each inch, I spanked her, slicing my hand right over her ass. Not holding back the force of the sexual punishment. The fact she hadn’t been hit for weeks only made her skin bloom brighter.

  Unable to stop myself, I did it again. Strike, thrust. Strike, thrust. Tess moaned beneath me, her legs shivering as I slid fully inside her.

  “Q!” she breathed. “I need you so much.”

  My fingers dipped between her legs. Her ass hot with my hand prints against my lower belly. “You need me?”

  She cried out as I smeared wetness around her clit. She pushed back, arching into my touch. “More than anything.”

  My balls tightened, already extra sensitive and desperate to come. “Merde, esclave, you’re ruining me.” Giving in, I grabbed her hips, propping her higher over the edge of the bed.

  All thoughts of games flew away as I pulled out and thrust hard into my wife. My voice tangled in the air. “This is going to be fast and hard. Are you ready, Tess?”

  She nodded breathlessly. “God, yes.”

  My nails imprinted crescent moons on her skin as I jerked her to meet me, deleting all space between us. I didn’t hold back, shuddering with bliss as I broke her flesh, licking my lips at the hint of my esclave’s blood.

  Fuck.

  Rubbing my fingertips in the sticky crimson, I painted her spine with red, before wrapping my hands in her hair to wrench her head back. I didn’t worry about hurting her scalp. I didn’t fear the contorted way her body bowed as I plunged deep inside. All I cared about was being free with this woman who’d insanely married me.

  Time lost all meaning as we fucked and reaffirmed how we felt for each other.

  My hands never ceased—pinching, spanking, punishing, and petting.

  Each strike Tess moaned.

  Each sharply delivered pain Tess cried out with joy.

  I was addicted to this woman.

  My pregnant woman.

  My orgasm didn’t stay away, and I forced her high and fast so I could chase her into the darkness and come.

  We both finished on a long groan, slamming back to earth.

  As we came down from our sexual high, panting and laughing, tangled in each other’s arms like we always would, I revoked my oath to never hurt her again. I’d never be so fucking stupid to try and be something I wasn’t.

  She’d reminded me not to be so stubborn. And I loved her so damn much.

  As sweat dried on our skin and the small teeth marks I’d punctured in her skin scabbed over, Tess murmured, “You’re going to be a father, Q.”

  Hugging her close, I kissed her so sweetly it bordered diabetic. But she accepted my questing tongue with a sweetness of her own. We’d sated our rage and could be gentle…for now. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”

  “Only as long as you promise to stay with me and accept us once and for all.”

  I nuzzled her brand. “I promise.”

  It was the easiest promise I’d ever made. Acceptance. Funny how I’d run from it all my life and it was so easy to give in to it now.

  I loved this woman to the galaxy and back.

  I always would.

  She was my wife.

  My esclave.

  And soon, we would have a family.

  EPILOGUE

  SIXTEEN MONTHS LATER

  THERE WERE MANY moments in my life that I treasured.

  The day I was sold to Q.

  The day I returned to Q.

  The day I married Q.

  Every event included my husband because I hadn’t truly lived until I met him. And now, I had one more.

  Watching Q be a father to Abelino, Lino for short, was no greater achievement in my life. The French name meant bird and Q instilled in his son every lesson he’d learned so our child might never know firsthand the evil of the world.

  Those first few weeks of not knowing the sex of our child had worn on me. I wasn’t joking when I said Q wasn’t ready for a daughter. When we finally had the ultrasound and confirmed it was a boy, I burst into tears.

  Q’s eyes had glassed too, proving he wasn’t monstrous, after all.

  My pregnancy had been easy, thanks to Q’s constant monitoring and support. He’d given into my demands for a rough session only a couple of times while I was pregnant and never when I got close to delivering. However, vanilla was a cursed word and never permitted in our lives again. I could live without using the swinging sex chair or the cross in our bedroom every week. I could concede not being whipped with a cat o’ nine tails until I wept for mercy every other day.

  Because I had something better.

  I had a husband who still bit, bled, and abused me. Only he became even more creative. Parts of my body he hadn’t paid too much attention to suddenly became orgasm triggers for my overly sexed pregnant form. Toys that at first glance seemed innocent became sinfully naughty when used in the right way. He also became a master at torturing me with that blasted magic wand.

  Not to mention, the gift I’d given him on our wedding night became more and more desired by both of us. Anal wasn’t something we’d done often but while I was pregnant, Q took his role as protector seriously. He was happier taking my ass than my pussy, saying he didn’t want to invade his son’s safe cocoon.

  It made no sense. But Q was a man. And men had strange conclusions.

  Our lives had fallen into a happy agreement we both loved. We still argued. Still snuggled. Still had a lot of sex and a couple of months after delivering Lino with no complications, I found Q in his study to deliver the news that I was healed from giving birth.

  That day…

  Wow.

 
; That day had been one of the best in all my days of sexual experience. Q had stocked up on new supplies while I’d fumbled through my last trimester and he was only too happy to try them out now I was unencumbered with his child.

  In a nine hour session, Q orgasmed four times and I doubled him with eight. Lino had to be given a bottle by Suzette that night rather than my breast because I could barely lift my head from the blissful subspace I swam in.

  A month after Lino was born, we travelled to the man who’d done Q’s chest piece, Louis. There, Q had another bird added to his tattoo, only this one wrapped around his back, splaying its feathered wings over his shoulder blades. The ink was grey-blue for my eyes, and its claws held two ribbons floating behind it with my name and our son’s.

  For so long, Q decorated his body with mementos of helping others. And now, he’d been able to ink his future rather than his past. Solidifying our family into his flesh forever.

  Not wanting to be left out, I asked for a tattoo of a family of sparrows flying over my arm in honour of Q, the wings he’d given me, and the children we would hopefully conceive in the future.

  Bringing my thoughts back to the present, I smiled, utterly content in the sleepy afternoon.

  Lino played on his stomach in the French sunshine beside me, surrounded by Courage and the other puppies who were now all full grown. The dark blue jumpsuit Lino wore set off his chubby skin and dark wispy hair. For a baby, he was beautiful and I saw so much of Q in his pale innocent eyes. There was no doubt these Mercer men would break me by being so handsome and incredible.

  Courage broke away from Lino, depositing a saliva drenched tennis ball by my feet. “Again? Really?”

  The black French bulldog barked, running in a circle. I’d lost count how many times I’d thrown this ratty thing but Lino loved it. He squealed every time one of his guard dogs barreled past, chasing such a silly thing.

  Wrenching my arm back, I threw as hard I could. Courage took off, leaping over Lino and his pack mates in his rush.

  Q came out of the house, a brilliant smile cracking his lips. He’d been working this morning but now he would take the afternoon off to spend with us.

  Noticing me lounging on the deck chair, he kissed my head before scooping up our son and blowing kisses on his neck.

  The squirmy form of his baby swelled my heart until I glowed with gratefulness and overwhelming love.

  Q met my gaze, hugging Lino close. His body language promised an evening of debauchery while his face promised me everything that he was. He’d worshipped me before with his whips and chains but it was nothing to how he treated me now. How he watched me as if I were the very reason his heart beat. How he touched Lino with reverence reserved for only the holiest of things.

  He was in love with me.

  I would never ever take that for granted.

  Holding out my hand, I clutched Lino’s bare foot dangling from my husband’s embrace. Q wrapped his warm fingers around my wrist, squeezing just enough to remind me I belonged to him.

  I would always belong to him.

  Ducking, his lips met mine in a sensual kiss. My heart pattered and my nipples tingled for a session with my master rather than provide nutrition for our son.

  Murmuring into our kiss, Q said, “Every hour makes me love you more. Every year, every minute, every moment we spend together. Tess…you do more than complete me. You heal me. And I’ll spend my entire life making sure you understand that.”

  He’d said such words before. But they never lost the depth of meaning or sincerity.

  My reply was a similar echo but in no way lacking the love I held for him. “Every hour I fall harder for you. Every year, every minute, every moment we live side by side is the best minute of my existence. I love you, Q, and I’ll dedicate every breath making sure you accept it.”

  Our eyes locked as we kissed again, pulling apart as Lino wriggled for space.

  Our devotion reaffirmed, Q chuckled, bouncing the boy in his arms. The sun glistened behind him making him seem outwardly, a god fallen to earth to rescue and marry me.

  Sighing happily, I hugged myself as Q placed Lino on the blanket, sitting beside him on the grass to tickle and play.

  This.

  This was what made every hardship we’d been through worthwhile.

  We had so much.

  We were so damn lucky.

  Our charities were well and truly established, and the women recuperating in the house across our estate found it easier to regroup with the rescued animals we brought home from the shelters that were too damaged to be rehomed.

  Somehow, we’d become a zoo as well as a convalescent, but together, the broken survivors mended each other.

  And in the middle of this fortress of healing, sat my king. The man who made it all possible.

  He rarely went into the office anymore, preferring to do all his work from home so he never missed a moment of Lino’s upbringing. Just having him close to kiss or run a hand through his hair when I needed contact made all my dreams come true.

  Suzette was a born nanny and loved keeping an eye on Lino if Q’s beast demanded a mid-afternoon solstice or early evening reunion. And her and Franco had announced they were getting married next summer.

  Life was ridiculously perfect, and for the first time, I didn’t fear the future or suspect anything sinister might tear it all away.

  We were happy.

  We deserved to be happy.

  We would remain happy for the rest of our lives.

  Because I had my monster.

  And he had me.

  And together, we had everything.

  THE END

  FIRST OFFICIAL SNEAK PEEK INTO #SUPERSECRETSERIES.

  Cover, title, full blurb, and release information will be shared on my website and newsletter on the 3rd June 2016. Sign up to my Facebook Group HERE to join the cover reveal party with prizes and fun on the 3rd June.

  A brand new Dark Romance Series starting July 2016. This new monstrous hero will rival even Jethro Hawk and Q Mercer.

  Get ready for…

  Elder Prest.

  Copyright Pepper Winters 2016

  Unedited, subject to change.

  No copying permitted.

  Teaser Blurb

  (Full blurb to be released)

  Tasmin was killed on her 18th birthday.

  She had everything planned out. A psychology degree, a mother who pushed her to greatness, and a future anyone would die for. But then her murderer saved her life, only to sell her into a totally different existence.

  Elder went from penniless to stinking rich with one twist of fate. His lifetime of crime and shadows of thievery are behind him but no matter the power he now wields, it’s not enough. He has an agenda to fulfil and he won’t stop until it’s complete.

  But then they meet.

  A beaten slave and a richly dressed thief.

  Money is what guided their separate fates. Money is what brought them together. And money is ultimately what destroys them.

  She’s poor.

  He’s rich.

  Together…they are bankrupt.

  Prologue

  FREEDOM.

  Such a simple word.

  For those who had it, it carried very little importance. But for those who didn’t have it, it was the most precious, prized, and promised hope of all.

  I supposed I was lucky to know what freedom felt like.

  For eighteen years, I’d been free. Free to learn what I wanted, befriend who I liked, and flirt with boys who passed my rigorous criteria.

  I was a simple girl with ideals and dreams, encouraged by society to believe nothing could hurt me, that I should strive for an excellent career, and no one could stop me. Rules would keep me safe, police would keep the monsters away, and I could remain innocent and naïve to the darkness of the world.

  Freedom.

  I had it.

  But then I lost it.

  Until the day he entered my cage.

  Him
with the black eyes and blacker soul.

  The man who challenged my owner.

  And set my imprisonment on an entirely different path.

  Chapter One

  DEAR DIARY,

  No, that didn’t sound right. Far too light-hearted for my tale.

  Dear Universe,

  Scratch that. Too grandiose.

  To The Person Reading This.

  Too vague.

  To The Person I Wish Would Help Me.

  That would get me in trouble. And I refused to sound weak. Not if these words were the only thing strangers would remember me by.

  To…

  Tapping the broken pencil against my temple, I did my best to focus. For weeks, I’d been confined like a zoo animal being acclimatised to its new world. I’d been fed, washed, and given medical attention from my rough arrival. I had a bed with sheets, a flushing toilet, and shampoo in the shower. I had the basics that all human and nonhuman life required.

  But I wasn’t living.

  I was dying.

  They just couldn’t see it.

  Wait…I know.

  Inspiration struck as I came up with the perfect name to address this sad letter to. The title was the only right in this wrong, wrong new world.

  To No One.

  The moment the three words were pressed into my poor parchment, I couldn’t stop the memories unfolding. My left hand shook as I kept the toilet tissue flat while my right flew, slowly transcribing my past.

  I WAS EIGHTEEN when I died.

  I remember the day better than any other in my short life. And I know you’re rolling your eyes, saying it only happened three weeks ago, but believe me, I will never forget this. I know some people say certain events are forever imprinted on their psyche, and up until now, I haven’t had anything stick in such a way. You see, No One, I guess you could’ve called me a brat. Some might even say I deserve this. No, that’s a lie. No one would wish this on their worst enemy. But the fact remains, only you know I’m not dead. I’m alive and in this cell about to be sold to the highest bidder. I’ve been hurt, touched, violated in every sense but rape, and been stripped of everything I used to be.