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.