Twisted Together - Winters Pepper - Страница 27
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Too tempting. Far, far too tempting.
But by accepting, I would condemn myself to a life worse than death. I’d lose myself forever.
I’d be no better than the man I strove never to become.
I would kill her.
Tess stayed bowed at my feet; her gorgeous face glowing in the gloom. She looked like a goddess straight from another universe—sent there to see just how far I’d fall.
She was sublime. She was majestic. She annihilated me.
“Tess—” My lips wouldn’t move. I wanted to tell her to snap out of whatever enactment she played. I wanted to shake her, slap her, hit her until the old fire and thrill of pleasure and pain came back into her eyes.
But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go near her—not while she stayed so open and willing at my feet. I could feel the beast inside reaching for her, snarling at the taste of fully owning her. If I let myself touch her, it would be over. She wouldn’t be my wife. She would be my slave. I would never find balance again.
I was better than that. Tess deserved more than that.
I had to find a way to end all of this horror.
I had to rewind time.
“On your knees, esclave.”
Tess slid to the floor, looking so fucking beautiful in a sheer silver dress and no underwear. Every bruise, every cut, every bite glowed beneath the fine material, stamping my ownership. Marking my claim.
“Please—not again,” she whimpered, sliding to the carpet.
Her disobedience drove me mad—I’d teach her a lesson about her rights. Namely that she had none.
“Your only purpose is to please me. Open that pretty little mouth.”
Her face blanched, but her lips parted like a good little slave. She wore no collar but the brand on her neck glittered silver with permanent scarring.
Mine.
My hands landed on her head as my cock slid into her mouth. Deeper, deeper, harder, harder.
She whimpered but accepted, spit trailing down her chin as I used her.
The need to come overpowered me, tingling my back, locking my quads. I threw Tess to the floor, and a whip appeared in my hand. I wanted to come all over her while making her skin glow red.
“I won’t. Don’t make me,” Tess pleaded. She fell silent as I struck her.
And struck her.
“I’m not making you do anything you didn’t want. You did this. You made me become this. You gave yourself to a monster.”
I hit her again.
And again.
And again.
I jolted awake.
Launching upright, I glared around the opulent suite. My hand disappeared under the pillow for the HK P2000 hidden there. Franco wasn’t the only one who carried concealed weapons.
Heart revving, eyes darting, I flicked the safety off ready to fucking eradicate any bastard who dared come near Tess again.
The room was dark as a tomb—no light peeked through the black-out curtains, no trickle of illumination anywhere.
The dream echoed behind my eyes.
Tess had been resplendent. Accepting my violence with the beauty of a slave who’d been to hell and back. She lived only to make a devil happy.
My mouth was dry, but my cock was rock hard. I couldn’t shake the image of Tess’s mouth wrapped around my length; I still felt her dream-lips sucking, her tongue licking…taking.
Fuck.
I wanted to tear out my black soul and burn it. I wanted to crucify everything disgusting inside. Maybe if I purged myself with fire, I might get rid of the nastiness.
Redemption.
I needed to find some way to redeem myself and halt this path—the road leading to becoming Quincy Mercer II—true born son of Quincy Mercer, the raping bastard.
Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus on the room and not my rapid descent into purgatory.
Something woke me.
Something caused my body to switch straight into killer and protector. I had to stay vigilant just in case one of the many assholes I’d dealt with had come for me—and they would. I knew the underworld they existed in; retribution would be on its way. In a way the waiting was worse. I wanted it over with—so I could kill.
My hands twitched, gripping the gun harder, training it on shadowy corners of the room.
“No. Please—”
My heart skipped as Tess seized beside me. Her eyes screwed up, a dew of sweat gleaming on her upper lip. Even in the darkness I made out every perfect sweep of her eyelashes, following the soft curves of her body.
Her.
She’d woken me.
I should’ve known—it was hardly a new occurrence. Her voice must’ve plaited with my dream, lacing fantasy with reality. Her pleas had been real, but not for me. Somehow I’d taken the past and Tess’s amazing willingness to give me what I needed, and twisted it with how she was now. She would never say no to me. I learned that the hard way.
Her lies had confused the shit out of me, making me lose complete control. I could blame her for everything—but ultimately it was all on me.
Me, the cocksucker who didn’t deserve her.
My back went rigid as she squirmed. Her obvious distress sickened me, yet in my dream I’d relished it—wanted more of her cries and begs.
I hadn’t cared she didn’t want me. I loved that she didn’t. I loved the non-consent.
I’m heartless and fucking cruel.
Suddenly, my body weighed too much. The migraine had broken thanks to the brief sleep, but the dregs lived in my skull—puncturing my brain with tiny needles. At least my body punished me. I’d earned the pain.
Tess. Goddammit, I couldn’t look at her without dying of guilt.
You burned her. You almost fucking raped her.
I dropped the gun onto the mattress, letting my body sag. My hands disappeared into my hair, holding a mind churning with so many black things.
Her body jolted but she stayed deep asleep—too trapped by her nightmare to wake.
My arms tensed, wishing there was a trespasser in the night—I would make him bleed. I would tear him fucking apart.
The migraine pulsed, gathering power now I was awake. A fresh wave of sickness spread its nausea-inducing fingers up my back, latching around my throat. I wanted to fall to my knees and spew my fucking guts out for what I’d done.
Guilt could kill a man—I’d never been free of the fester all my life but now it’d grown monumental.
I groaned as a lance of pain hit behind my eyes. I hadn’t had headache this bad since Tess had been stolen. And I had no one to direct my rage onto but myself. This time the motherfucker who had to die for hurting her was me.
Fuck, I missed Frederick. I missed his cool-headedness, rational thinking, even his crazy ideas. He kept me sane. I hated to think how I would’ve coped without him in the wings. Keeping me focused, reminding me I was strong enough to ignore the needs and be a better man.
Picking up the gun, I ran my fingertips over the weighty metal, stroking the weapon that’d been used to take the lives of sadistic men. I’d fought against them. I’d ended their horror, giving the women back to their loved ones. All apart from one.
I looked over at Tess; her voice popped into my head.
“My name is Tess Snow. Not Sweetie, or Tessie, or Honey. I’m a woman only now realizing what she’s capable of. I’m no one’s daughter. I’m no one’s girlfriend. I’m no one’s possession. I belong to me, and for the first time, I know how powerful that is.”
I relived the moment where Tess had returned, bowing to me in the foyer. She’d taken away all my power by giving me all of hers.
“I came back for the man I see inside the master. The man who thinks he’s a monster because of his twisted desires. I came back for Q. I came back to be his esclave, but also to be his equal. I came back to be your everything.”
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