Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(137)

Whatever that was.

"Q, you're not a monster. I know the truth." I squeezed my eyes, trying so hard not to let Tess into my mind. Not here. I wouldn't taint her memories.

My eyes fell on the upside down girl on the pole. Her legs were spread, showing me every crease and fold of her abused pussy.

My cock throbbed. Fuck! Overwhelming pressure built behind my eyes. I wanted to leave before the sickness inside could grow stronger. I would gladly walk to my torture if it meant retaining my morals and decency.

A moment ago I didn't want to think about Tess. Now I did. Think of her in their place-being so badly used. You'd hate it.

My semi turned into a full-blown fucking erection.

I'd hate it but love it.

Tess spread-eagled on a pole. Her hair wrapped in my fingers as I forced myself inside her mouth. Her moans and pants and cries.

Shit. I couldn't think about anything without it lacerating everything good I tried to retain.

I scrubbed my face.

Lies.

I fucking judge you. I'm your executioner.

Five hours and forty minutes.

"I heard a rumour, Mercer. About the sparrows you seem to have on every logo and possession."

I struggled to keep my face impassive. How the fuck did that piece of information get out?

Reclining in the seat, I did my best to ignore my cock, focusing on buying time for Franco and his team. "Oh? And what do they say?"

Lynx thrust his hips, his body shuddering as the girl sucked harder.

I averted my eyes. His mind games were about to get worse. I was sure of it. 

Dante's voice was lust-laden and scratchy. "That it symbolises women you've saved. That you think you're a fucking hero."

Shit. Damn news reporters and invasion of my privacy. The sparrow was a relic to me-now they'd tarnished it, brought it into the filth I lived in. "I'm not a hero."

Where the fuck is he going with this?

"I also heard you did use one of the slaves you bought." His eyebrow quirked. "A girl from Mexico-Red Wolverine gave her to you."

I tensed. This was where the conversation went from civil to littered with minefields. I refused to talk about Tess with him. Flatly fucking refused. I didn't care how much he knew or how much he didn't. None of it mattered because by the time dawn arrived I would either be dead-or he would be. Either way, my reputation and what I did with Tess was irrelevant.

My mind filled with blonde curls, pink lips, and a strong innocence that made me bow to the woman I missed so fucking much. I better be in one piece to marry her tomorrow.

I'd fixed her but hadn't done the one thing I wanted above all. I wanted to call her my wife.

Hurry up, Franco.

I nodded. Once. That was all he was getting.

"I also heard you murdered Wolverine. Hardly fair since he gave you a slave you finally enjoyed."

My skin tingled with rage, muscles locking with the need to pummel his face. A bodyguard moved closer, sensing the fraying hold I had on my emotions.

Narrowing my eyes, I said, "Yes, I murdered that cretin. Sliced his throat like fucking caviar and I did the same to his son."

Lynx froze, his eyes fluttering as the skilled tongue of his slave worked him closer to release. "So cocky, Mercer."

I shrugged. "It was easy. About as easy as it will be to murder you." My temper swelled. I couldn't do his question and answer session anymore. "Why did you drag me here? I'm done watching you get a blowjob. Fucking do something or let me go."

I was aware the question might catapult me into the killing zone, but I couldn't sit there any longer.

I wanted to leave. I couldn't leave. The lack of freedom made me slip from sane to crazy.

"You came for me, Q. Je suis à toi." Tess's voice wouldn't stop cutting through my thoughts.

Lynx stiffened, his mouth fell open as he rhythmically thrust into the girl's mouth. She went slack as he came down her throat, shuddering with his orgasm. The second his hips stopped pulsing, she licked him clean.

The last sweep of her tongue, Dante shoved her away and tucked his cock into his pants. Snapping his fingers, a guard handed him a lit cigarette.

Taking a puff, he murmured to the girl, "Did you like the taste of my come, slave?"

She nodded.

"Do you think you deserve a reward?"

She froze.

"Answer me."

Slowly, she nodded again.

Lynx smiled, lashing out with the burning ember he stabbed the cigarette into her stomach, holding it until her lips turned white from holding in her scream. Pulling back, he ordered, "Your turn on the pole."

She gratefully spun around. Not touching the seeping wound, she took her place on the podium.

My mind churned with waves of ferocity. Images of stabbing him in the heart, chopping him up, hanging him from the ceiling for his slaves to whip and abuse were the only reason why I didn't risk certain death by hurling myself across the couch and strangling him.