Twisted Together - Winters Pepper - Страница 48
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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.
Q’s voice thickened to a growl. “Who will make you come while hurting you?”
“You will,” I gasped as his touch went lower, dipping between my folds, driving me insane.
“Who will make your body remember? Who will keep you safe?”
“You, Q. Just you.”
His hand disappeared. I moaned at the lack of stimulation, then cried out as he fisted my hair, wrenching my head upright. His lips found mine, his dark taste invoking a primal urge inside.
He stole my thoughts, my sanity. My hands shot behind me, digging my nails into his firm ass, yanking him forward to thrust against me.
His kiss was a hammer, his fingers a wrecking ball—with each one he smashed the remaining glass prison in my mind, making me his equal, but also keeping me firmly in the position of submissive.
A wash of gratefulness filled my heart. I was unbelievably lucky. So blessed. Q not only gave all of himself, he also made all my black desires come true. We truly were born for each other.
He panted in my mouth, rolling his hips, taunting me with the one thing I wanted most of all. His teeth captured my bottom lip.
And bit.
I cried out as my skin broke. A trickle of metallic fed from my mouth to his. Q seethed, seeming to increase in size until all I knew was him. The moment my blood hit his tongue, it was over.
No going back.
Only going forward into sin.
“God, I want to bite you, drink you. I want to drain you, so you live in me always,” he grunted, picking me up in one arm, hoisting me higher on the table. Only my tiptoes reached the floor while my breasts squashed against the felt.
His nose tickled my spine as he kissed his way down to my tailbone. “Put your hands on the table, and don’t move.”
I trembled but obeyed. I ran my hands along the fuzzy fabric, relishing in the desire sweeping in my blood.
Looking over my shoulder, he smiled. It transformed his face from brooding to boyish until it was gone, replaced with a cocky smirk and possessive glint in his eye.
“Stay exactly like that, with your glowing ass ready for my pleasure.” With another spank, he disappeared into the darkness like a ghost.
I swayed a little, my tiptoes straining to keep still—exactly as Q demanded.
Not having his heady presence close by, the pixies and nymphs in my chest sent more dust through my body, tingling, warming until I shuddered with ideas of what would happen next.
Where is he?
I looked around the room.
I saw nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Nothing else mattered but the pool table, the darkness, and Q—wherever he was.
I loved the anonymity. The unknowing.
A metal clink sounded a few paces away, followed by a footstep.
Then silence.
We could be married for years, and I would never get used to how silently Q moved.
Slowly, goosebumps spread over my arms. It wasn’t nerves dancing on my skin but excitement. I wasn’t cold or terrified. I was weightless and buoyant, waiting for my master to return.
A hand landed on my waist making me leap upright. My heart bucked in surprise.
“Jumpy, Tess? Afraid of what’s coming next?” Q didn’t wait for my answer. He pressed my shoulder blades down, stalking around the pool table to the other side.
His eyes were the only pinpoints of light until he flicked a switch, bathing the apple felt with a golden glow. The chandelier above painted us with golds and burnt oranges from the tinted crystals.
Q no longer looked devilish but royal.
My heart flew free, fluttering to the ceiling.
“Donne-moi tes mains.” Give me your hands. The order whispered through the golden light, quintessentially him. His raspy, melodic voice had a power over me he wasn’t aware of. I instantly locked my wrists together, jutting them toward him.
Q didn’t say a word as he accepted my gift, wrapping soft, black fabric around me. The silk looked like morbid blood, as if I’d slashed my wrists in a fit of insanity.
The moment he’d restrained me, Q tugged the cord, making me stretch even further across the table, securing it somehow. Once tied, he strolled back toward me, setting my heart jumping and body dissolving under his intense stare.
My back was icy cold while my front was toasty warm. The two sensations, coupled with my lack of mobility, made my lungs suck in air as if oxygen was about to go extinct. The closer Q came, the more lightheaded and woozy I was.
I flinched as he cupped my ass.
“What are you going to do?” I didn’t bother testing the binds. I knew Q—he had a way with ropes—there would be no chance of escape.
“Sometimes, the only way to make your dreams come true is to shatter them,” he said, circling me like a predator. “Sometimes, the only way to make your nightmares disappear is by facing them.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “I won’t have nightmares anymore. I faced those issues today.”
Q stopped behind me. “That may be true, but I’m all for making sure.” He ran a harsh hand down my spine. He stepped to the side; I tensed for a wallop. “But maybe I’m not talking about your nightmares anymore.”
His hand darted to the side, reaching something I couldn’t see. I sucked in a breath as the same hand slinked around my hips, moving toward my pussy. His touch caused me to press my head harder against the table, cursing my trembling legs.
Without a word, Q stroked my folds, smearing my wetness with forceful fingers. My eyes snapped shut as sparks erupted from his touch, then popped wide as something firm and unyielding clamped around my clit.
It throbs. Fuck, it throbs.
“Q?”
“You get one question. After that, I refuse.” His voice thickened with his accent.
I squirmed, trying to figure out what he’d pinched on my clit. For the life of me I had no idea. “What did you use?”
Q rubbed my back and ass as if I were a prized horse he was about to mount. “It’s a clothes peg. And before you ask, everything I use on you tonight is what I’ve found around here. I didn’t come prepared—but I do know pain is pain—regardless of what causes it.”
He dropped his head, dragging his teeth over my hip. “Now shut up, esclave, and let me savage you.”
My eyes watered; my clit burned and thrummed with every heartbeat. The cinch of the peg kept me on edge, compounding the orgasm I desperately wanted.
Having Q touch me gave a small sense of relief. If he stroked me, he wasn’t far enough away to whip or use any other item he may’ve found. But then he stepped away, leaving me cold and totally vulnerable.
Oh, God.
The first strike bit into my skin like a thousand insects.
Insects.
My legs gave out—the table supported all of my weight.
My mind split into two pieces. Flashbacks swarmed.
“We’ll beat you bloody, pretty girl.”
“I’m going to fuck you, puta. You’re next.”
“Hurt them, or we’ll hurt you.”
The horror of Rio sucked me backward, then other memories came thick and fast.
“How long have you wanted this, Tess? How long have you wanted to be fucked?”
“I’m in love with you. You’ve stolen everything but given me so much in return.”
“Your pain is my pain. You honour me by letting me mark you.”
My body wanted Q’s dark medicine but my mind fought off the lustful haze, running away from pleasure into grief.
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