I shook my head for the fiftieth time, my eyes wild and damp beneath the blindfold. All method of communication had been stolen. I couldn't appeal or argue. Q held me firm, fully intending to shove me head first into a chasm of horror.
Swift panic shot through my body.
Q's right. No matter how much I loved him I would end up hating him for this. I wouldn't be able to stop the connection between him and my past.
I shuddered, acknowledging the truth. I had to go back. Completely. Truly. There was no faking this. No cutting corners. And I couldn't know it was him driving me deeper.
With a groan of sorrow, I swallowed.
"Good girl," Q whispered. He paced around me, his fingertips dragging around my neck. Stopping in front again, his hand slid into the material I wore, cupping my breast. "We probably have about fifteen minutes before that takes you away from me."
I jerked, testing the ceiling restraints. As much as I loved him, I didn't want pain. If he raised a whip or paddle, I wouldn't have the strength not to enter my tower. And once I stepped inside-I wasn't coming out. I wouldn't be able to.
Q spread the front of the gown open, his hot breath tickling my skin. "Fuck you look incredible, esclave."
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.