Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark) (4 page)

 “Tess.
Tu dors
?” Are you asleep?

My eyes shot wide, connecting instantly with Q’s pale ones. Giving him a gentle smile, I shook my head. “Not asleep.” If I could have my way, I would never sleep again. I wanted to quit reliving my nightmares and live in the present where I had so much to be thankful for.

Q scowled, but slowly a soft smile danced on his lips. “We’re almost there. I didn’t want you to miss it.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, affirming I was still alive and the catastrophe of our past was over.

Looking out the oval plane window, I glimpsed glittering ocean and landmasses on the horizon.
I’m on my way to get married!
Ever since Q placed the ring on my finger, he’d seemed possessed. Rushing forward, dragging me faster and faster toward the moment where we said ‘I do.’ It was crazy to hurry, madness to marry so fast, but all I could do was hold on and not let go of this magical whirlwind.

“I won’t miss a second.” I forced my smile to beam; Q relaxed under my gaze. He looked so dashing, so understatedly powerful. The corner of the bandage over his brand peeked through the open buttons of his green shirt.

The plane’s engines softened, nudging the nose toward earth. I’d grown so used to Q’s wealth—his helicopter, mansion, and property empire—but I would never like this aircraft.

Too many bad memories existed in the cream leather and honey wood. First being sold to him and freaking out while Franco watched, grinning like the devil, then when Q sent me home to Brax after turning my world upside down.

“I fucking love it when you smile.” Standing, he crossed the small aisle to kneel by my legs. My stomach twisted at seeing him bow before me. I’d never get used to the way he looked at me, or the sheer gratefulness glowing in his eyes.

Once, I’d believed life made me go through hell in order to deserve Q—to be worthy of the priceless gift of true love. Now, after Rio, my thoughts hadn’t changed. If anything, it’d been confirmed. I’d lived through hell in order to be deserving of this precious connection.

I had to be purged by evil to know perfection.

“Do you feel it? Do you feel lighter? Freer? There’s no better medicine for troubles than going somewhere new.” Sitting on his knees, he leaned forward, coming within kissing distance. His tongue came out, licking his bottom lip, drawing my attention.

My stomach clenched; I sucked in a fluttering breath. “I do feel it. I feel….”
Scared and hopeful and frightened and happy and…

Q’s eyes dropped to my mouth; I couldn’t breathe. “What do you feel,
esclave
?” Slowly, his large hands landed on my denim-clad knees. While he wore stylish black slacks and a light-green shirt, I wore designer jeans and a wraparound cardigan with matching white scarf. France hadn’t been warm when Q rushed me out of the house and up the plane steps.

Q’s hands trailed higher, branding me beneath the heavy cotton. The ‘Q’ he’d burned onto my neck flared with heat, willing him to kiss me there—to take possession.

“Tell me. What do you feel?” His voice turned gruff and gravelly while his chest rose and fell.

I couldn’t sit upright. My bones melted—my entire body became hypnotized by his spell. I let myself drift, trying so hard to stay in the moment, chasing the slow burn of lust in my blood. “Your fingers. I feel your heat. I feel your breath on my face. I feel your lips achingly close to mine.”

Q’s fingers turned to talons on my upper thighs, pressing me into the plush leather. “Do you feel how much I need you? How much I want to take you. My way. All the fucking way.” His eyes flashed, sending sparks through my heart. “I want you, Tess. So damn much.”

Memories of him taking me in his helicopter clouded my mind. I’d wanted him past all sanity that day. I’d been wild at the thought of him spanking me, filling me…now all I felt was a hum of need—a dull light-bulb compared to the lightning bolt it used to be.

Add fuel. Coax it to grow
.

Throwing myself into his control, I willed my need to build. I nodded. A small moan escaped my lips as his hands caressed upward. Gliding over my hips, he gripped my waist, holding me in place.

“Would you let me take you? Here? Now?” Q murmured, brushing his lips over mine in a teasing barely-there kiss.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Take me. Here. Now. Anywhere. I want—”
I want to be me again. I want to be free.

Deliberately keeping my thoughts from skipping, I cupped his face, thrilling at the rough-smoothness of his jaw. He’d shaved but not to bare skin. I loved how untamed he looked even while he wore expensive clothing.

“What do you want?” he murmured, his lips a fraction from mine.

“I want—”
I want to be able to love pain again.
But it was like wishing upon a useless star. I might never be able to find passion in pain again. Not after what they made me do.

“Say it,
esclave
.”

Say what? The dreadful truth that I’d ruined our marriage before it’d even begun, or perhaps he wanted to hear yet more lies about how I hadn’t changed into a shadow of myself.

Q didn’t move, waiting for me to speak.

My chest hurt as I sucked in courage. “I want you to kiss me. Make me forget everything but your tongue and taste and need.”

Q didn’t hesitate.

His lips crashed against mine, pinning the back of my head against the leather. I moaned as his tongue speared into my mouth with his trademark self-assurance and domination. He tasted of darkness and sin, making me want to follow him to the ends of the earth.

Tilting his head, he licked my tongue, encouraging me to kiss him back. Willingly, I kissed harder, shivering in his hold as he groaned. Intensity built between us, wrapping us in a tight web of heat and want. Needing more—to show him how indebted I was—I grabbed his hands, placing them on my breasts. The instant his large grip covered me, he lost control, kissing me brutally.

His lips bruised mine, heating, melting. It was soul-scorchingly deep as he devoured me into his world. Every sweep of his tongue helped bring me back to life. Every lick shed the greyness, granting colour once again.

His touch turned hard; I flinched as he twisted my nipples through the material. The threat of pain would’ve sent me skyrocketing before but now it dampened my lust. The needful bubbles and sexual frustration popped in my blood, leaving me cold and lifeless.

No. Stop.

I hated how frigid I’d become. How conditioned I was to run from all types of pain.

Q stiffened; his touch froze.  

I couldn’t let him guess how much I hated all forms of agony. It turned me from wet to dry. From willing to averse.

He can’t know.

“Q—God, make me forget. Please make me forget,” I panted into his mouth.
Please don’t guess.

Q didn’t kiss me back, instead he pulled away, pinning me with his pale stare. Goosebumps broke out over my skin as I shuddered. Ominous foreshadowing prickled my spine. What if I never found that part of myself again? I couldn’t let him marry me thinking I was his perfect other when I no longer wanted his belts or chains or whips.

Cupping his cheek I breathed hard, fighting against the prick of tears. “Kiss me. Do anything you want to me.”

The pain in his eyes almost unravelled my despair. His face shut down to unreadable. Tenderly, he turned his head, pressing a kiss against my palm. “God, I want to. How I want to hurt you, kiss you, fuck you. ” Hiding his emotions behind a careful mask, he smiled. “But I rather like denying myself. Looking at you, fantasising of all the things I want to do but not giving myself permission to do them.”

My heart broke. Q just lied. He lied to give me space. He lied to keep me from going back to the one thing he hated and feared the most—my tower.

He leaned closer, bringing his intoxicating heat and smell of citrus. “Stop.”

I didn’t know what to stop. My black thoughts? My terror at fucking up the best thing that’d ever happened to me?

I threw my arms around his neck, dragging his mouth to mine. I blocked off my endless questions and pretended. I found solace in acting the part of unbroken Slave Fifty-eight who Quincy Mercer hadn’t been able to send away. I gave him everything I could.

But it wasn’t enough.

Q slammed the heel of his palm against my chest, holding me against the chair. “You can’t lie with words, and you can’t lie by actions. Stop. Stop making a fool out of me by thinking I buy your bullshit, Tess.”

Smashing my lips together, I looked down. I hated myself. I hated this. I fucking hated Leather Jacket and White Man.

“I don’t know how to stop,” I whispered. There was no ‘get well’ help-book or guidelines on how to evict the slime from my soul. I entered into a relationship with Q never believing he would change or that he would find a balance between light and dark. I gave him my heart, all the while knowing I might only get a small sliver back in return.

But Q surprised me completely. He’d given his life freely to save mine. He let me murder his sense of self all in the name of bringing me back. And now I was asking for more. More—too much more.

Q seemed to follow my thoughts, my fears. His lips curled in frustration. “
Toujours en train de mentir
” Still lying.

I sucked in a breath as he jerked me forward; the thrill of his sharp teeth teased my ear lobe. His hot mouth made me tremble as he nibbled my skin. “It makes me so fucking hard for you,
esclave
, knowing you’ll be mine. All mine. My wife. It gives me unbelievable power knowing I’ll be responsible for your happiness.”

My head fell back as Q trailed threatening kisses down my neck to my collarbone. “And I take my responsibilities very seriously. I’ll make you happy again. I swear it.”

Tears sprang to my eyes; all I wanted to do was sink. Sink into his promises. Sink into the safety of letting him fight my battles.

Q’s body bristled, his hands dug into my thighs as his voice changed to a growl. “And when you’re happy again, I’m going to take you so hard you’ll scream. I’ll show you just how fucking happy you’ve made me by saying yes.” His teeth sank into my skin.

Pain.

“Kill her. If you don’t, we’ll cut off her fingers one by one.”
Leather Jacket’s voice roared into my head.

I froze.

No. Stay. Don’t remember.

Piercing panic bulldozed its way through my heart. Horror and repulsion doused me in sleet and ice.

“Hit her,
puta
. Obey us otherwise we’ll do it ten times worse.”

Pain—it wasn’t a tool of love but a weapon of hate. It was heinous. It was barbaric.

Please...

I hated that I had no power to keep the badness from staining my life. I hated that I was so weak.

Squeezing my eyes, I focused on Q’s hot breath, the predatory way his teeth clamped hard. He didn’t break my skin, but the threat of pain was enough to make me lose it.

Blonde Hummingbird came alive behind my eyes. She’d been scratched and mutilated—by me. My stomach rolled. I wanted to throw up.

Stay with him. Stay in the present. Stay safe.

The cabin was too small. The air too stifling. The light tinged to soot while the scents of mould and sweat rose from the bowels of my nightmares.

“Tess. Tess!” Q reared back, grabbing my cheeks in both hands. “Goddammit, Tess.” His harsh temper acted like a vacuum, sucking up the horror as fast as it consumed me.

Where there had been rottenness and rank recollections, all that remained was my hyperventilating and jittery nausea.  

I opened my eyes. Q’s gaze delved into mine, looking as if he’d reach in and tear my demons free if he could. I smiled as bright as possible. “Sorry. Airsickness.”

Q growled, standing upright. “Lies. What did I just say?” His face twisted into a mask of hurt anger. “That’s the last one I’ll let you say. The next one I don’t fucking care if you’re terrified, I’ll make you speak the truth.” He stalked across the small aisle and sat stiffly in his chair.

Shit.

Breathing hard, I looked around the cabin, trying to think of some way to fix this—fix myself. Nothing about the luxury interior or cylindrical aircraft gave hints of how to clear my mind from fear and be free.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I crossed the small distance between us. It was my turn to kneel, settling myself between Q’s spread thighs. The sheer size of him, the air of ruthlessness, let me place all my trust in his belief—his belief that he could fix me.

“I wish I had something else to say. It seems as though all I do these days is apologise.”

Q sighed and for a moment I worried he’d cross his arms and ignore me. But then he brushed a blonde curl off my forehead, his jaw tight. “I wish I could tear out your memories so they leave you in peace. I wish I could kill those fucking bastards all over again. I want to forget about being human and let my inner monster tear them limb from limb.”

Q’s entire body tensed, vibrating with rage. Once upon a time I would’ve been turned on, scared, and intrigued by Q’s wrath. Now, after everything we’d been through, he no longer scared me. His anger filled me with happiness—he would do anything, be anyone, for me. To have such a wondrous gift made me ache with gratefulness.