Текст книги "Twisted Together"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

I sucked in a harsh breath as his mouth descended on my nipple. His arms came around, dragging me close. Every ripple of muscle and sweep of his tongue sent a jagged bolt of passion into my core. My body reacted instantaneously, knowing any moment everything I knew would be stolen from me.

After what happened, I wanted his touch. I needed to feel. To be soothed and assured that whatever stupidity we were about to do wouldn’t hurt us. We’re doing it for the right reasons.

Q’s mouth was hot, wet, full of sinful fire. Everywhere he touched seemed amplified—my mind making it intense and visceral. I arched into him, pressing my flesh further into his mouth.

He groaned, licking, sucking. His arm clenched hard, possessing me completely.

When will it affect me?

I bit my lip as Q nibbled gently, his mouth trailing from my nipple up to my throat. His teeth grazed over my tingling skin. “You’re all mine. Completely at my mercy.” His voice layered with husky lust.

My eyes popped wide as a new fear rose. Was he strong enough? Would he be able to break my chains and not lose himself in the process?

Q hugged my tense body, sensing the reason for my panic. Planting a kiss on the ‘Q’ branded into my neck, he murmured, “I have it under control. When it takes you, don’t fight. I’ll keep you safe.”

My breath caught. There’d been another time when he said I was safe. At his office. With his birds on top of the world. He lied.

My heart skipped; a rush of sickness raced in my blood.

Is it affecting me?

My mouth went dry. I smacked my lips, trying to lubricate my throat to speak. “Q—” I croaked.

I moaned as Q undid the cord around my waist, spreading the fluffy material wrapped around my body. He sucked in a harsh breath, ragged passion echoing in the sound. I stiffened as his fingers trickled from my cleavage and down my stomach. “Do you have any concept of how much I miss the woman I fell in love with?”

My heart squeezed at the sadness in his voice.

His fingers kissed my ribcage, stroking so soft it was almost a tickle. “I miss your fire.” His touch dropped a little, flaring over my hips. “I miss your strength.” His fingertips turned inward, tracing my lower belly, brushing through the trimmed hair between my legs. “I miss you taunting me.”

His scent of sandalwood and citrus drugged me far more effective than anything he’d given. I willingly gave myself to the heady combination. Q owned all my senses now. Not just my sense of touch, taste, sound, and sight but also my instincts, obedience, and trust.

He owned everything.

His touch teased, stroking so close to where I wanted him most. His lips landed on my ear, burning me with whispered words. “I miss your fight, esclave.” His shirt brushed against my nipples as he leaned into me, putting pressure on my wrists bound to the ceiling. The friction sent a wave of pleasure clenching my core. “I miss your love of pain.”

My stomach lurched. My voice came out as a wisp. “I’m still the woman you fell for. Please don’t miss me when I’m standing in your arms.”

He shook his head, brushing his five o’clock shadow against my sensitive throat. “You’re not my Tess. You lied to me. You made me hurt you against your will.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t verbalize the depths of my love for him. I didn’t want to admit I willingly put myself into his power. I would let him hurt me all over again if it gave him happiness. I wouldn’t fight—and in a way that made me weak. Terribly weak.

Something skittered up my spine, entering my brain like a drop of black ink in water. A speck, hovering in crystal liquid before starting to spread.

It’s happening.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you again. And I mean it.” His nose trailed along my collarbone; his finger dipped lower, feathering over my clit. “But if this works…I’ll know. I’ll turn your lies back into truths.” Q cupped my pussy, his strong fingers the epitome of him and his masculinity.

I tensed then liquefied, completely in his thrall.

“You’ll grow wet for me again. You’ll pant for me again.”

His voice tripped and warbled in my head, spreading the drop of ink, sending tentacles of black.

I blinked, trying to keep my thoughts clear. “I am wet for you, Q. See?”

His fingers spread my folds ever so gently—every touch a delicious tease.

Another droplet of ink appeared in my brain, spreading, staining, tainting.

I moaned as Q dipped a finger inside—just the tip, hovering as the ultimate tantalize. “You’re damp, esclave…not wet…not yet.” He dragged me closer, sliding his finger deeper.

My mouth popped open, consumed with his touch. I wanted to pant and moan but the rapidly spreading blackness dragged me further and further from his web. My body jerked as a rush of surreal coldness took me hostage.

Q sighed, the tinge of anger-sadness creeping back into his voice. “We’re running out of time.” He pressed his finger deeper, urging my body to melt and swell. “There’s so much I want to say to you.” His arm imprisoned my lower back, jerking me closer while his finger thrust upward. His heat undid me all while more black droplets stained my mind.

It’s taking me.

Q kissed my cheek, flexing his finger in the perfect way. “Tell me why we’re doing this.” His tone wasn’t a demand, more like a beg. He needed to be reminded himself. He sounded scared….lost. “Talk to me, or I’ll stop.”

I could barely remember how to speak; my mind spinning and dipping with every new droplet. “To turn my lies into truth,” I moaned, bowing in his arms as his finger moved harder, turning dampness into wetness. “You’re going to fix me…”

The blindfold stole my sight, amplifying my awareness of the drug-induced mania building inside.

“I trust you, Q. I—I want you.”

He chuckled, hiding the lace of pain. “You want me? You want this?” He drove his finger deeper, his knuckles connecting with sensitive flesh.

My pussy rippled, sending a wave of sensation into my lower belly.

My head fell back even as a torrent of black liquid and fog filled my mind. I wanted to stay in his arms forever. I wanted to never let go of the tingling erotic pleasure.

 I wanted more. More, more, more.

“Yes—”

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“You want more, pretty girl? Beg.”

I gasped, fisting my hands, tugging on binds hanging me from the ceiling. No!

“Keep talking and I’ll make you come. I’ll give you a release,” Q whispered, slowly penetrating me with another finger.

My mind had taken over, contaminated with whatever he’d given me. My body switched from hot and needy to fearful and cold.

White Man flickered in and out like a faulty hologram.  “You want it? Beg. You know you’ll beg eventually.”

“Please—not again.” Pincers weighed down my mind, dragging me deeper into the inky puddle residing in my brain.

I wanted nothing more than to cling to his hard form. I didn’t want to be lost again. I didn’t want to spiral into fog.

Squeezing my eyes, I tried to claw my way back to reality.

Q held me tight. “Let go. Don’t fight.” His two fingers stroked my inner walls, stretching me, keeping me tethered to a hypersensitive body. The coax was dangerous—fooling me into thinking I wouldn’t suffer if I surrendered. I would suffer.

I shuddered, flushing with a wave of desire even as I swam upstream in a river of blackness.

Leather Jacket appeared, hazy and unformed, his foul lips twisting into a grin. Waiting—waiting for me to be washed into his torture once again.

“Q—I don’t want to. Please. Don’t let them take me.”

“It’s okay. Trust me.” His touch no longer had the power to keep me sane, every passing heartbeat dampened the desire in my blood, favouring brittle panic instead.

Ropes around my wrists. Blindfold on my eyes. I was helpless. I can’t do this. Swaying forward, I found Q’s neck, latching onto his slightly salty skin. I bit. Hard.

Q jerked, his fingers twitching inside me. “Tess...” he growled. “Stop fighting.”

“You like it rough, don’t you, pretty girl. We’ll sell you to an owner who will look after you.”

No. I would never stop fighting them. Not after what they made me do. Made me become.

But no matter how hard I clambered to stay coherent I slid down and down, deeper and deeper.

Q groaned, his fingers diving harder. Now there were no lust sparkles or pleasure, now all I felt were bullets of shame. My hips spasmed backward, dislodging Q's touch. I couldn’t do it anymore. His fingers fell away, leaving me empty and all alone.

I can’t fight it.

My heart went sluggish, a curtain of drugs falling over me.

“Tess…” Q’s voice lost its perfect baritone, morphing into my enemy. “I need to know the truth—why did you sacrifice yourself? Why did you let me almost rape you?” French accent traded for Spanish, and Leather Jacket swirled into being.

No longer hazy or unformed—every inch of him was real. The blindfold didn’t keep images out anymore. I saw him plain as truth. His yellow-stained teeth and creaking, reeking jacket. His greasy black hair and dirty fingernails.

“Did you like my fingers inside you, puta?” Leather Jacket sneered.

Q. God, please let me wakeup. This couldn’t be real.

I licked my lips, invoking courage I no longer had. “Let me go.”

He shook his head. “Not until you answer me.”

Tell him. Tell him before he hurts them!

Honesty exploded up my throat, not answering Leather Jacket—but Q. The admission was for him even though he no longer existed. “I wanted to make you happy. I’d gladly give you my life to do that.”

Q suddenly appeared, smashing through the putridity, standing tall. “What do you mean?”

Wanting to answer before I was stolen away again, I said, “I would die for you, Q. That’s what that means. All this talk of belonging to each other—well, you truly do own me. I would gladly give up my life if it meant you’d be happy.”

Q disappeared again, replaced by Leather Jacket. His hand came from nowhere, spanking my thigh with a wicked hot strike. Burning tears flocked to my eyes.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Did you like my fingers inside you, puta?” he asked. His voice smooth and coaxing but beneath it lived a layer of deadly steel.

I hiccupped with building tears. What’s going on?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The ink completely stole my mind.

Then guilt crushed heavily. Blonde Hummingbird and Angel.

Their silhouettes appeared, bloody and bullet-ridden.

“If you won’t answer my other question, perhaps you’ll answer this. Did you enjoy hurting them? Did you enjoy murder?” Leather Jacket threw his head back, laughing. The sound cut right through me, dredging up everything I wanted to forget.

My tower stood taller, knowing I would have no choice but to step inside its circular walls if I wanted to survive.

I couldn’t live in this limbo anymore. I couldn’t live with these lies, these fears—this guilt.

I wanted to be whole. I wanted to be happy.

Leather Jacket grabbed a handful of my hair, tugging hard. The burn in my scalp sent bugs and beetles, residual from the drugs, skittering over my skin. Their feelers and creepy-crawly legs welcomed me back into the muck I’d lived in.

It wasn’t often I craved another hit. I hated drugs—but in that moment I would’ve willingly traded anything for the smoggy numbness.

Whatever Q gave me wasn’t enough. He’d pushed me overboard, letting me sink into my twisted mind, but it was too twisted—I would never be able to untangle the mess.

Give in. Give up.

“Please! Just let me go.” I hated my weak confusion.

Leather Jacket shoved me, making me spin and dangle from the rope. Catching me after a circulation, he dragged me against his foul stench. “You’re mine again. All mine. I’m never letting you go.” He kissed my cheek, evil black eyes glowing. “We’re equals, you and I. And I’m about to fucking show you.”

Suddenly the blindfold was torn off. Q shattered the vision of Leather Jacket.

I sobbed, seeing him so clearly, even while a waterfall of gunk contaminated my mind. I hated drugs. Hated them! Hated what I became when I took them.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Ah, Tess. You’re leaving me. But only for a little while.” Leaning forward, Q captured my mouth in a gentle kiss. His lips were soft and sweet and perfectly Q. He didn’t kiss deeply, or request access with his tongue. He just fed me strength—strength I sorely needed.

For one precious moment, I didn’t need to fight. I knew who I was. I knew why I had to give in. We shared our love even while we acknowledged for the next few hours I would hate him.

There would be tears. There would be screams. There would be facing demons and a past that might ruin us. But if we survived, we would be unconquerable.

“Je t’aime,” Q murmured, pulling away.

The curtain slammed down, shoving me face first into the cloying ink. It wasn’t a matter of giving in—the drugs were the master now.

The transition from sweet lover to controlling diabolical trafficker happened in a blink. Q, with his gorgeous jade eyes, disappeared. Leather Jacket took centre stage, revelling in his ownership.

He grinned, shedding his jacket and cracking his fingers as if he had a monstrous task before him. His eyes were flat and cold. “Told you, you were mine, puta.” Stalking forward, he dragged a finger down my exposed cleavage. “Our first exercise is to clean you. You’re fucking filthy.”

I swallowed my fear, heart hammering. Please say shower. Please say shower.

Leather Jacket’s mouth twisted into a horrendous smile. “It’s time for your bath.”

The last drip snuffed out my light, transporting me back to Rio, to Mexico, to nightmares.

Chapter Six

Intertwined, tangled, knotted forever, our souls will always be twisted together,

our demons, our monsters belong to the other,

Bow to me, I bow to thee, now we are free

What the fuck am I doing?

I had no fucking idea. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. Nothing about drugging and mentally torturing a woman who’d been through so much was right.

It was a stupid idea—moronic to think I could walk her through the past and replace the memories. I ought to be fucking shot. I’m an idiot.

Tess’s eyes were vacant, staring right into mine, but not seeing me. Not anymore. Her lips parted, breathing hard with whatever hallucinations whispered in her ear.

This was worse than the fucking nightmares. This was induced by me. For the next couple of hours I had to shed everything I’d fought so hard and become her worst fears. I had to become the man I’d sworn never to be.

I glared at Tess, hanging and bound. The dressing gown gaped wide, showing her perfect body and luscious breasts. She was sent to make me sin. All my life I’d abstained from my true nature but then cruel fate gave me her.

 My hands clenched, unable to deny the billowing blackness settling over me. Creeping from ignorable to fucking intolerable. Each moment I let myself continue this charade, the light inside blotted out until I no longer recognised myself.

The only thing protecting Tess from my snarling scream-thirsty beast was love.

Unconditional love—miraculously keeping me on a leash. She owned my heart and soul. That was the only safeguard preventing me from not giving a shit anymore and diving head first into debauchery.

No one would know….Something slithered in my brain, whispering sickness and want.

She dangled like a feast—surrounded in darkness, drugged out of her mind. I could do anything….

My stomach tensed as desire shot up my spine. It would be so easy to mount and fuck her while hanging from the ceiling. I could be cruel and heartless. I could hurt her the way I wanted with no repercussions. She would never know it was me.

You’d be him. You’d walk straight into fate.

My lips curled; I spat on the floor as a rush of bile filled my mouth. To ever think I was weak enough to become my father made me suicidal with rage.

I would never do that to Tess. No matter how my sick cock ached.

Locking my knees, I made an oath. A pact with my fucking soul.

Whatever I did here, I would never overstep two boundaries: rape or blood play. If Tess ever became strong enough to endure my needs, completely sane and willing, then I’d give myself some leniency. But not before and definitely not with an unhinged druggie I was trying to save.

Tess’s dilated eyes trained on me, never looking away, despite the haze. “Why—why are you doing this? He’ll come for you again, you know.” Her head dropped as if suddenly too heavy, the drugs sucking her deeper.

I shuddered at the thought of what she’d been through—what I was putting her through once again.

I knew she didn’t see me. She saw them.

The drug did what Franco had said. I’d asked him to find something—a hallucinogenic that lasted a couple of hours. He’d disappeared, returning a little while later with a single yellow pill.

I didn’t know the name of the chemical or even where he got it from. And I fed it to the woman I wanted to grow old with. How fucking irresponsible!

My jaw worked hard, grinding my teeth, flaring a rapidly building headache. I’d fed it to her because I made the choice. A choice I already fucking regretted. But it was done now. The only thing left to do was suffer the consequences.

I snapped my fingers in front of Tess’s face, making sure she was completely consumed by visions. Time to begin.

“Fuck me, I’m going to hell,” I muttered.

Tess sucked in a breath, but there was no flicker of love or comprehension. Rather, her eyes blazed with a hate so pure and piercing, my heart stuttered at the thought of her ever looking at me that way in reality.

I wished I could enter her mind and see which asshole haunted her.

My hands curled at the thought of the man, Smith. The cocksucker responsible. His heart now rested under a rose bush, his body torn to pieces and burned. Or did she see the man who’d raped the girl beside her, earning the wrath of Franco cutting off his cock. Either way—it didn’t matter.

She was in hell—so the fuck was I.

This was my burden. I was the reason she was broken. I was the reason she’d lost so much. And I was the only one who could bring her back. And I had to do it before…

I don’t know how long I have to fix her.

The thought slipped through my carefully fortified defences. I refused to think so morbidly—but I couldn’t lie to myself. They were coming. And I had no intention of leaving Tess like this if they achieved what they wanted.

Are you ready to do this?

Never. But I moved forward anyway. Tess flinched; eyes hazy and unfocused. She hadn’t looked around the room or asked where she was. None of that mattered because all she cared about was freedom. Freedom from a third kidnapping and pain.

I wanted to scream: ‘whoever you see in your head—they’re dead. I slaughtered them. Their blood stains my hands.’

But I didn’t. She had to believe this was true. She had to give in completely.

Now. Do it now. I didn’t know how long the pill would last. I had a lot to accomplish before it ended.

With trembling hands, I reached above and undid the fastening. I’d strung her from a low hanging chandelier—deliberately drawing all the curtains and turning on no lights. I didn’t want Tess to see the room until I was ready. Once she returned to me—then she’d understand.

I pulled the cord around her wrists; she stumbled forward. Her body landed on mine and I groaned as her breasts squished against my chest. So soft. So pure. So fucking perfect.

My heart bucked with need. I would’ve given anything to be able to tackle her to the floor and drive myself inside. To take and give and consume and adore.

I swallowed hard as my eyes landed on her pussy. My mouth watered to taste her—to dip my tongue inside. She’d been wet, soaking before.

I’d wanted to make her come. I’d wanted to give her one burst of pleasure before the drugs stole her, but I’d been too slow.

Now, it was up to me to be a bastard all in the name of curing her. I had one chance at breaking her nightmares, and I refused to fuck it up.

Yanking the rope, I dragged her forward. She moaned in pain as blood rushed back from having her arms up for so long.

“Stop bitching.” My cock ached. Fuck, it ached. Everything about what I did called to the monster. Tess’s fear clogged my nostrils, making it so damn hard to remember I was doing this for her. Not for me.

“So you’re the master who doesn’t let himself play.” Smith’s voice slammed into my head. It didn’t matter I’d stolen his heart—he’d come to destroy me.

My back locked straight as I growled under my breath, repeating what I’d said to him that night. “I’m the man who knows right from wrong.”

“No, you live in denial. One day you’ll see the truth. It will happen. You can’t ignore who you truly are forever. One day the decision won’t be yours anymore, and when that happens operations like ours will be your saving grace.”

Fuck.

I couldn’t live like this much longer. I couldn’t live so torn.

I clutched my head, sucking in greedy breaths, forcing my mind to fill with images. Images I deliberately blocked from my past.

“Do you want a taste, Quincy? You keep sneaking into rooms you’re forbidden to fucking go, all because you want a piece of pussy?” My father motioned me forward with his free hand, while his other thrust thick fingers into a screaming blonde.

My ten-year-old stomach threatened to evict the cherry pie Mrs. Sucre had made me, but if my father told me to do something, I had no choice but to do it.

Inching across the carpet, my eyes fell on a tangled mess of hair and limbs. A girl. Skin that should’ve been dusky and pink was now grey and lifeless. Even her blood had turned from bright red to brown.

My feet reeled backward, faster and faster. “No!” I screamed. “I’ll never be like you. I’ll never touch a girl like you!”

My father laughed. It started as a chuckle but grew and grew until it felt as if the entire room shook with corruption. “You’re wrong, boy. You have my blood in your veins. You’ll grow up needing exactly what I need. And there’s nothing you can do to fucking stop it.”

Hitting the blonde so hard she fell onto her knees, he held out his hand again. “Now, come. Take your place as my son and heir. Come and play with your subjects like a good Mercer boy. I’ll even let you fuck one of them.”

I ran.

I ran away from my father. I ran away from any hope at having a mentor in my life. I ran to my mother, only to find she’d drunk herself into a stupor.

I found out later she drank to drown out the screams. She committed suicide by alcohol all to forget what her husband did down the hall. Leaving her son to fend for himself.

The memory shattered, and I stumbled to the side. I’d never had a flashback—such an intense recollection come to life. I fucking hated it.

But the glacial disgust and hatred I’d felt that day lodged itself in my chest, granting me a defence against the dark whispers in my head. I didn’t need to make an oath not to hurt Tess. Sheer repugnance of what lineage I’d come from would do that.

Tess kept her chin down, either accepting her fate or acting like the docile prisoner. I didn’t trust her one bit. Not after her strength in the hotel. Fuck she was wild. And beautiful, so mouth-wateringly beautiful.

She’d fought me like I’d always wished to be fought. With the abandonment of sheer survival. She would’ve gladly taken my life—or given up her own in order to win.

Was she strong enough to survive this? Was I strong enough to step into the role as trafficking asshole and come out on the other side intact?

The questions were irrelevant. I had to be.

I am.

“Come,” I growled, tugging on the binds.

Tess’s head snapped up, eyes blazing grey fire. “Just kill me. I’m done playing your games. You had your fun and now I refuse.”

Hearing her strength mixed with equal terror made my heart shoot out of my chest and splat against her feet.

I wanted to caress her cheek and murmur, ‘Don’t be strong. Don’t fight. It will be easier to hit rock bottom if you just let yourself slide.’

But Tess would never just give up. She might want to. She might think she had. But she didn’t know herself like I did.

She would never stop fighting. And I needed to teach her how, so I could build her up again.

Forgive me.

Gritting my teeth, I cuffed her around the side of the head. My cock thickened, throbbed.

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t touch me!”

It was pain she hated. Pain was the catalyst in this mess. I had to use pain against her.

Fuck! I struck her again, this time hard enough to knock her to her knees. She swayed but shook her head, snarling, “Back to your old tricks? Back to beating up women because that’s the only way you get off? You’re sick!” She spat on the floor, her saliva mixed with a small tinge of blood. “Just sell me already, at least a new master will know how to fuck.”

Her tirade tore my chest open. How dark was her mind? How much blackness did she keep hidden in that angelic face?

Squatting on my haunches, I grabbed her chin, glaring into her eyes. “Do you want to be fucked? Is that it? You want a master who will abuse you and give no shit to your happiness or humanity?”

Tess tore her face out of my hold, hissing, “I have a master. And he’s good and kind and the only man I would gladly give my body to for his pleasure. But you keep stealing me from him, so I’m done. Do you understand? I’m done being stolen and drugged and hurt. Sell me! I want to be sold. I never want to see you again!”

I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe.

I wanted to stop this terrible fucking idea.

“Tess…” I murmured.

Her eyes practically popped out of her head. “How do you know my name? No!” Wracking sobs clawed up her throat; the crack in her ferocity gave me a spark of faith. It was working.

God, fucking forgive me for what I’m about to do.

Slapping her cheek, I growled, “That’s right. We know your name. Tess Snow. Tess. Tess. Tess.”

She shoved me, but her arms were weak. I shoved back. She sprawled onto her side, before cowering into a ball.

Standing upright, I said, “We know you let your master string you up and taste your blood. We know you let him suffocate you to the point of death. We also know you love giving fucking blowjobs—apparently you have quite the talent.”

Fuck, I’m scum. Why was I doing this? It was so, so wrong.

Nudging her balled body with my foot, I added, “So, Tess….are you sure you want to be sold. Knowing you’ll survive only on the cum from men forcing themselves on you? Do you want to spend your life strung up and at their mercy?”

Just like the poor women who served my father.

“Answer me, Tess Snow. You’re not so fucking innocent now.”

Every word I uttered whipped Tess worse than any cat o’ nine tails. I broke down her defences, throwing back memories she no doubt thought as treasured and totally private. I ripped her mind open, flipping it back with scorn.

Grabbing her by the hair, I hauled her to her feet. She clutched my fingers, trying to control the burn in her scalp, but I shook her instead. “Tell me! Do you wish to be sold? Or do you wish to be free?”

She hiccupped, her face flushed with tears. “Free. I want to be free. Let me go. Please. I’ll do anything. Anything.”

“Wrong answer.”

“But you said—”

I couldn’t suck in a decent breath—I felt lightheaded, high, and sick to my fucking stomach. My cock rippled with pre-cum. I had to close my eyes from the misplaced rush of pleasure.

“I know what I fucking said. I asked if you wanted to be free or be sold. I didn’t ask for anything in return. Did I ask you to suck my cock? Did I ask to fuck you in return for your freedom?”

I wobbled on my feet, too enraptured with the mental images of forcing her to do just that. I’d blow right down her throat with one lick of her tongue.

Her head hung, hiding her feverish face with tangled blonde curls. Between ragged pants she said, “I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I don’t want anything!” I roared. I want you to take back your destiny. Take it. Admit you want your freedom. Don’t offer anything in return. Just take it.

Her sobs took over, dragging her into sorrow.

It was obvious I needed more time to get the message across. Shaking her again, I snapped, “You failed this lesson, Tess Snow. But we’ll visit it again soon enough.”

Her head flailed from side to side. “No…please. Just let me sleep. I’m done. I’m done.”

“Don’t fucking talk back. And you’re not done. Not by a long shot.” Spinning on my heel, I yanked the rope, bracing myself against the conflicting hatred and lust oozing in my veins. Tess followed behind—her bare feet slapping softly against the expensive travertine.

I threw a look over my shoulder. My body suffered a sick roll. Tess shuffled, her eyes downcast in her own drugged-up world.

I wanted nothing more than to smash through the fog and apologise. I wanted to beg for forgiveness for putting her through this.

I had to believe I was helping, because right now it felt like I was making it worse.

Tess didn’t make a sound as I dragged her through the dark-shrouded house. I ignored the rich decor of the twelve bedrooms, five bathroom home that’d been designed by myself and an architectural team. Sitting pride of place on a cliff overlooking the sea, it was part of the subdivision I’d participated in a few years ago. It was also the house that granted one sex slave in return for the bribery of Tenerife planning officials.

It was empty. Fully furnished and staged as a show home to encourage cashed-up rich fucks to buy into the twenty-plus complex.

It’d been a quick phone call to secure and ensure complete privacy. Franco would make sure we weren’t disturbed. There wasn’t a more perfect place for the first stage in the crescent moon with Tess. I had no desire to ever come here again—the bad memories would be left in its walls, and Tess would be free.

Stepping into a bathroom the size of a small lounge, I dragged Tess to a standstill. New sun tried to enter the room, but I’d drawn every blind, every shutter.

Tess and I were formed in the dark. The dark had moulded us, changed us, almost broken us, but in its black embrace we would find healing and peace.

“Look at me, Tess Snow.”

Her eyes met mine, flinty and fierce. Tears decorated her cheeks like silver droplets, and I wanted so fucking bad to lick them off her skin. I wanted to consume her misery and fight it for her.