Текст книги "Twisted Together"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

 “You gave me not only your empire and love but also your greatest fear. Don’t you think I know how hard it was for you to let me tie you up and abuse you? You let me be your master, Q. How can I ever repay that?”

I expected Q to scream. To list the ways I’d repaid him in his fucked-up rationality, but instead he propelled himself off the bed and stalked to the bathroom.

The door slammed shut; I waited in the centre of the bed for the shower to turn on or for something to smash as he took his violence out on the amenities.

Seconds after the door rattled in its hinges, Q stormed back out. “I’ll tell you how you can fucking repay me. You can marry me. Today. I’m not waiting any longer.” Q’s melodic accent cut through the room, whipping me with urgency.

“Any longer? You proposed yesterday.”

“Don’t answer back, Tess. Not unless you want me to drag your delicious body down the bed and fuck you. Having you argue is the worst kind of aphrodisiac, and I know you don’t want me.” Pacing like a caged animal, he snarled, “The knowledge you’d still spread your legs for me is wreaking havoc with my barometer of right and wrong.”

He took all choice away. He was right. I didn’t want him. Not while anger poured off him in crimson waves. But I did want the connection. I wanted to be reminded I hadn’t pushed him away even though I’d tried so damn hard. I wanted to apologise in more ways than words.

Q spun away and yanked open a dresser. Grabbing shirts and underwear, he snapped, “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

I scooted off the bed, obeying instantly. “Where are we going?”

“Away from here. Away from memories.”

Stopping at the end of the bed, I frowned. “You can’t run from this. Only time will help us forget.”

Q stalked toward me. His low-slung cotton trousers defined his hard erection, clinging to his powerful thighs. He bristled, towering over me with authority. “I’m not running from, esclave. I’m running toward. Our future is unwritten. I’m sick of living in the past. It’s time to make you mine permanently. I’m taking you to a place where no one can find us.”

* * *

 “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.

I placed my hands on his knees. “I wish that, too.” The smoothness of the material over the hardness of his body sent my heart skipping a beat.

“What else do you wish for?” he demanded, sensing everything I wasn’t saying. Demanding to know the truth.

Sitting straighter, I confessed, “I need you to promise you won’t hate me. If I know you’ll be patient, I’ll fix myself. I swear it.”

Q shook his head sadly. “That’s what you’re afraid of? That I’ll grow impatient and leave you because you’re battling things you refuse to tell me?” Sitting tall, he glared into my eyes. “Have I given you any reason to doubt that I won’t wait for you past death if I must? Have I given you any cause for insecurity?”

Shit, he had a gift at making me suffer guilt. How could I ask him to wait for me when secretly I believed he’d walk away long before I was repaired?

“No. I’m sorry.” My shoulders slouched. Every part of me was heavy and cold. “You’ve been nothing but gentle and supportive.”

“I may get angry and pissed off at everything they’ve done to you—that’s my right as your future husband—but I give you my word: I take our relationship seriously. When I say the words ‘til death do us part’ I’ll mean them. There’s no escape once you sign that contract, Tess. Call me old fashioned or a possessive bastard, but you’re mine. Forever.”

My heart grew wings, and the fear that he’d throw me away dissolved. I believed him. No matter how long I took to come right, he would be there for me every step.

“I haven’t been fair to you. Je suis à toi, Q.” I’m yours.

His face lost the hardness; a flicker of adoration warmed his gaze. Pulling me upright, he placed me in the seat beside his. He pursed his lips as a thought flickered, then he shifted to reach into his back pocket. A crinkling sounded as he pulled something free. “I wasn’t going to give this to you, but I think you need reminding how strongly I feel for you. Yes, you’re mine, but I’m fucking yours through and through.” Passing the tattered piece of paper to me, he twisted in his seat, scowling out the window.

The plane’s engines whirred and purred as we descended faster from clouds to earth. The islands on the horizon were now spread below us, dotted with buildings and a slash of grey runway. My engagement ring flashed with expensive rainbows as I stroked the still-warm note.

I stared at the folded piece of paper as if it only had doom to tell me. I never expected Q to write a love letter. If he hadn’t wanted me to read it, why had he given it to me?

“Read it, woman. It’s not going to bite you,” Q muttered, still staring out the window.

Sucking in a breath, I unfolded the crinkles and smoothed it out. The sight of Q’s masculine cursive made me fall in love all over again. Everything he did was flawless.

Esclave…Tess

You won’t see this—just like I won’t tell you certain things about me no matter how long we’re married.

Fuck me. Married.

Me? I never thought I’d experience what others took for granted—until you, of course. You landed on my doorstep and stole my fucking heart the moment you fought me over the pool table. I’d never been so turned on and so utterly confused.

I tried to keep you safe from me, but I never thought I’d have to keep you safe from the bastards in my sordid life. I failed you, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much you’ve suffered—all because of me.

You were tortured because of me.

I could promise you the world. I could cut out my heart and present it at your feet. I could write sonnets and poems and lyrics all designed to spill my fucking guilt and remorse, but nothing will make the ache go away.

You were so strong once and now you’re stronger still. You think you’re broken, but I see the truth. Not only did you cut me out and force me to face my worst nightmare, but I feel as if you’ll disappear at any moment.

But you won’t be able to leave once you’ve said ‘I do.’ The moment you’ve signed and become Tess Mercer, your soul belongs to me. You’ll truly be mine, and I’ll own you forever. Maybe then the fear will go away.

Fuck, I truly hope so, because every day I’m going mad. Going insane with the thought of you walking out the door and leaving.

Once you’re truly mine, I might find the guts to show you a little of what I’ve hidden all my life. I want to welcome you into my world. I want to share everything that I am. I want to teach you everything that I know.

Fuck, Tess, you don’t get it. Do you understand that I’m not the one with the power—it’s you. You’re the one in control, and it kills me to admit it.

Will you ever forgive me? Will you ever look at me the same? Will you ever stop thinking that if you had never met me, you’d never have been taken the second time? If only I fucking sent you home when I had the chance. If only I stopped the darkness from building. If only—hindsight is a fucking bitch.

But if I had sent you away, my life would’ve remained the same. Empty. Lonely. So then I can’t regret falling for you even though my need for you almost killed you.

So you see? Vicious circle. Around and around. I’m the cause of your pain, yet I want more of it. I’m the reason you’re shattered but I want to be the one to glue you back together.

I’m such a selfish bastard.

Forgive me. Forgive my sins and I’ll split open my soul and let you in.

How ironic that you think I’ll leave you. How pathetic that you think you don’t deserve me. The truth is, I’m petrified you’ll finally see me as a monster and despise me. I’m a fucking mess.

You think I’m invincible. But I’m not. I’m weak. Weak for you and everything I taste when I’m with you.

Say yes. Please fucking say yes.

If you do, then I’ll be the best master and husband the world has ever seen. I’ll give you a life full of experiences and passion.

We’ll finally find peace in the dark—

There was no ending, almost as if Q couldn’t bear to write another word. Not even a full-stop gave closure to such a brutally exposing letter.

I’d been living a lie. A lie where I thought I only loved Q. I didn’t love him. I adored him. I worshipped him. I was alive because of him.

Light and colour and effervescent joy gave me the strength to slap away my guilt and embrace what Q just showed me.

Forgive him? There was nothing to forgive. We were both victims of cause and effect—pawns in a game of happiness and loss. We had each other—we won in the end despite everything we’d been through.

“I don’t need to say any vows, Q. You own my soul already.” I glanced at his frozen form. “I don’t need to forgive you because there’s nothing, nothing, that you’re guilty of. No crimes. No sins.” I waited for some acknowledgement that he was listening. He remained unyielding in the chair, only a twitch of his hand signalled he’d heard.

The airplane tyres slammed against tarmac as we went from flying to charging down the runway. My heart had been left in the clouds, dancing with the knowledge that a man so loyal and amazing as Q loved me.

I’d gone from unwanted to idolized. The shift in my world was so earth-shattering, I didn’t know how I stood or followed Q down the steps after we’d taxied to the airport. I existed in a bubble of awe as Q guided me into a sleek black limousine, and we pulled out of the airport. We hadn’t spoken, too flayed open to risk admitting that his letter had done what words could not. It gave us hope.

Safely seated in the back of the limo, Q turned to me, asking softly, “Now, do you understand?”

My eyes shot to his, holding his tortured gaze. “Now, I understand.”