An elderly man in an immaculate tuxedo, bowed. His black eyes looked flustered, shining with wry amusement. “I believe you booked the Presidential suite. I’m the butler, Andre.”
I gawked, unable to act normal while so much intensity bubbled in my blood.
Q however slipped into egotistical businessman, dragging me from the lift. “Yes, we’re staying in the suite. No, we don’t need anything. You’re dismissed for the rest of the night. Thank you for your time.”
The butler bowed again, his lips turning up ever so slightly. “I’ll be on extension 232 if you require anything.” Entering the lift we’d just vacated, he smiled. “Good day to you both.”
The doors shut but it didn’t cut off the small peel of laughter.
My heart hadn’t had time to stop racing; my hands shook. Once I entered that room, I could no longer be weak. I could no longer indulge in the horror and memories drowning me.
Q believed I was the perfect masochist to his sadistic needs.
I am that girl.
I am.
“Nosy old bastard,” Q muttered, fishing the key from his pocket. The entire floor housed the Presidential suite. There was only one door, and Q attacked it with the key. It swung open thanks to a well-placed kick.
I laughed softly. “He didn’t exactly want to see two people groping each other. Hazards of the job I can imagine.”
Q lassoed my wrist, yanking me into the room. With a dark smile, he slammed the door and spun me against the wall. The second my back hit resistance, Q froze. His eyes fixed me in place, adding more bubbles to my blood.
I forced myself to relax. Give in. I had to trust him and let go completely.
Don’t tense.
I had to trust in my strength to survive whatever he would do.
He can’t know.
Our breathing accelerated, filling the suite with overwhelming tension. Q raised his arm, slowly, so, so slowly, dragging out the anticipation until I quivered against the wall.
“Where were we before we were interrupted?” His eyes fell to my brand, his jaw locking. Something animalistic flickered over his face, transforming him into something far scarier than human. “Seeing my mark on your skin—it does things to me, Tess. It affects me here.” He thwacked his chest with a fist. “It calms me here.” He tapped his temple.
Q was so strong and invincible but beneath it all he was insecure—just like me. He needed daily affirmations that I wouldn’t leave. That I wouldn’t lock him out like before.
We were the same.
We need to talk.
Q reached forward, running his fingertips along my jaw. In their wake, he left me on fire. My heart scurried faster and faster, hurling itself to its doom.
“So many things I want. So many things I need to do.” Q’s fingers trailed down my throat, making their lazy way to hold my neck hostage.
My hands balled by my sides; my breathing turned fast and reedy. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t.
He’s going to hurt you. Spank you. Bite you.
The panic was worse than the pain and out of nowhere a familiar tug happened deep inside. A tug of promise—a shelter where I’d once hidden.
The tower.
Horror shoved away the first brick sliding into place. No!
Never again would I shut myself off. No matter what I went through I couldn’t go back into that circular prison. I wouldn’t find my way out again.
Q’s fingers squeezed, reminding me of the day he’d strapped me to the cross and waited to see how far I’d let him go.
I couldn’t stomach the stretching tautness. If I let Q draw out the connection, he’d taste my reluctance.
I did the only thing I could.
I threw myself at him.
Q’s fingers broke away from my throat, falling to his side as I jumped on him. He grunted as my body weight knocked his balance, making him stagger backward.
I was the one taking. I was the one reclaiming our relationship and even though I knew pain would be forthcoming, I relished the power at the surprise in Q’s eyes.
But then it was gone. Replaced with fierce lust and unfathomable possession.
“Fuck, Tess.” That was all Q managed before I slammed my mouth against his, shutting him up. He groaned as I wrapped my legs around him just like in the lift.
His biceps rippled, holding my weight, only to spin me around and smash me against the opposite wall.
I clawed at his back, hoping to enrage him enough to use me fast and hard. Fast because as much as I wanted him, I wanted it over quickly. Fast was good—fast hid everything slow would reveal.
His tongue lashed out, taking complete possession of my mouth. I squirmed closer, pulling his hair, forcing him to hurtle toward violence.
He growled as I reached down and grasped his c**k as hard as I could.
“Fuck.” His h*ps pistoned, crunching my wrist between us. My mouth opened in a silent scream but Q used the advantage to kiss me harder, deeper, wider.
“What are you?” he grunted, rocking into me.
“You’re worthless. You belong to us. Withdrawal will make you do anything, obey anyone. You’re ours.”
My body jolted; I pressed harder against Q wanting to run from the abysmal thoughts.
“Answer me, esclave.” Q’s touch bruised, but he didn’t raise his palm or reach for his belt.
“Je suis à toi.” I panted. Revelling in the freedom of the phrase, I repeated, “Je suis à toi, Q.” I’m yours.
“Just like I’m yours.” His passion poured down my throat to my heart, heating me, protecting me. His lips crushed mine, and his arms bunched, pulling me away from the wall. Blindly, he carried me, but a second later we crashed into a sideboard.
The hard wood smacked into my thighs; Q swore under his breath. With glazed eyes and need glowing on his face, he swiped an angry arm behind me, knocking off expensive porcelain and a vase holding cascading lilies.
The flowers teetered then committed suicide on the marble floor below. The tinkling of splintering glass and china mixed with our heavy breathing. Cold water splashed my legs, soaking into my jeans.
Q didn’t give me time to look at the mess. His lips found mine, drowning me in his hunger. Hoisting me higher, he placed me on the sideboard, scooting me to the edge for easy reach. His lips tore from mine, his eyes latching onto my chest.
Bending over, he took the delicate material of my singlet in his mouth and tore it with his teeth. Once torn, he grabbed the neckline and ripped.