Tears of Tess (39 page)

Q
murmured,
“J'adore tes seins.”
I love your tits.

The
same pinching weight attached to my other nipple, sending shooting stars of
need through an invisible link to my core.

I
pulsed in time to blood throbbing in my nipples and whip marks. I whimpered as pain
blossomed as more blood rushed.  

Q
grabbed the back of my neck, smothering my mouth with his. His tongue wrangled
mine into yielding, our breaths mingled.

I
moaned, becoming drunk on the taste of him.

Breathing
hard, he stopped kissing me, and something soft and leathery danced along my
stomach. I clenched, trying to figure out what it was. I hated the
blindfold—the lack of eyesight. It made everything so much more aware, anxious,
and sensitive.

Q
sucked in a breath. “Every welt I give you makes me so fucking hard.”

I
groaned as leather bit into my stomach, right on my pubis. I tried to double
over but restraints kept me arched—available for whatever torture he planned.

“You
want to know how dark I’ll go? I want blood. I want you sobbing at my feet. I
want you in fucking tatters. Does that scare you?”

Another
strike, this time just below my breasts. My rib injury flared with pain, and the
nipple clamps jiggled as I twisted, trying to run. I couldn’t deny the tension
of being completely at his mercy made my pussy throb, but I couldn’t understand
why. Why did being a submissive turn me on? Why did inflicting pain turn Q on?

My
voice was barely audible. “Yes, it scares me. Deliciously terrifies.” My
honesty shocked both of us. Breathing hard, I asked, “Why do you want to hurt
me,
maître
?”

Q
lashed out, slapping my cheek with a gentle palm. It didn’t hurt, but tears
oozed beneath my blind fold. “I revoke your permission to speak.”

I
hung my head, chastised. Guess, I wouldn’t know.

Q
paced in a circle around me, dragging the flogger over my skin. “It’s not about
hurting you, sweet Tess. It’s about branding you. Your skin is pure as snow,
and I get to mark it.” He flogged my ass again. It caught a whip mark and blazed
with agony. “It’s the wrongness, the rightness, I need your pain.” He whispered
in my ear, “I’m invincible when I hurt you.”

Images
of dark terror filled me. Every muscle in my body screamed to run. The safe
word danced on my tongue.
I’m stronger than this. I invited this. I won’t say
it… not yet.

Q
hit me particularly hard. It made the bee sting seem like a giant wasp, but I
didn’t make a sound.

He
groaned, tracing a finger over the new injury. “So fucking perfect.”

I
breathed shallowly, wanting to see.
Needing
to see.

“You
deserve a reward, Tess,” he said it so sweetly, as if I was a good girl and earned
a lollipop. But his domination made me very aware I wouldn’t be getting an ice-cream.

The
pain once again morphed to tender hooks of passion, and I welcomed the burn.
Welcomed the marks Q branded.

He
ripped the blindfold off, kissing me, holding my hair so I couldn’t move away
as he fucked my mouth with a tongue that wouldn’t let me breathe.

I
gasped and choked, but the moment he left, I wanted more. I wanted to die with
him kissing me.

With
glinting pale eyes, Q folded to his knees in front of me. “Put your legs over
my shoulders,” he demanded.

I
blinked. “My legs on your shoulders?” I flushed with embarrassment at the thought
of him so close to my pussy—spread and exposed. I was so wet it trickled down my
thigh. I shook my head, unable to be so vulnerable.

Q
reached and slapped my ass. His hand connected with whip marks; I yelped.

“Do
as I command,
Tess
.” He stressed my name and it did exactly as he
wanted. It reminded he owned me, therefore I had no choice.

Hesitantly,
I cocked one leg, placing it on his shoulder. His eyes dropped to my centre,
face darkening with need. Self-consciousness painted my cheeks. When my other
leg stayed firmly planted on the ground, he glared. “You have two legs. Put
them on my shoulders.” His voice rasped, chest working hard.

His
passion granted a burst of feminine courage. Jumping, I shifted my weight to
the cuffs and I straddled Q’s shoulders—suspended, completely at his mercy. Arms
came up to hold my ass, biceps clenching. He didn’t tear his gaze away from my
pussy. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He kissed my inner thigh in a fleeting
move, breath hot. “Here’s your reward for letting me hurt you.” His voice deepened
to brimstone and my head snapped back as his mouth latched onto my clit.

My
legs spread on his shoulders gave full access, and he took advantage.

His
tongue wasn’t shy, swirling around my clit, licking, sucking. Plunging into my
wetness, tongue-fucking as if possessed.

It
was too much. Too intense. I moaned and whimpered and struggled and wriggled. Little
stars shot and fizzled and tormented with every flick of his tongue, every suck
of his mouth.

He
pressed his tongue so far inside I cried out, wishing it was his cock buried
deep. “Please, master…more…” My body was beyond ready to be claimed, bruised,
reawakened into passionate pleasure.

The
whip marks heated unbearably, my skin rivered with sweat from the fire, and nipples
screamed for relief. I rocked my hips into Q, forcing his tongue deeper, demanding
him to be rougher.  

“Fuck
yes,” he groaned, fingers digging into my hips as he dragged me closer. His
entire face between my legs. He growled as he bit my clit. Not a simple nip—but
a full savage bite.

I
screamed as my pussy contracted, thrumming with its own heartbeat. I thrashed,
trying to get closer, trying to get away.
I want more. I can’t handle more
.

My
mind broke completely, ruled by the need to come. “Fuck me, Q. Fuck me. I can’t…
I can’t stand it.”

He
pushed my thighs, and I melted off him. He stood lightning quick as I swung
from the ceiling, trembling. My head lolled, and my eyes were too heavy to keep
open. I wanted to scissor my legs to find some relief from the torture. Q
turned me from rational woman into a craving addict who needed a fix. I needed
his cock. I needed my master.

Q
captured my jaw; I opened unwilling eyes. “You can’t stand it. Can you?” His sexy
five o’ clock shadow glistened from eating me out. I swung forward, wanting to
lick him, to clean him. My mouth watered at the thought of sucking him. I
wanted to bite his cock just like he'd bitten me. I wanted it so much, I’d
explode if I didn’t get it.

I
tried to make sentences form. “I can’t stand the thought of not having you fuck
me.”

His
eyes snapped closed before he regained control, murmuring, “You’ve submitted
completely, and you have no idea what that does to me.”

I
had an idea. The same insane, mind-crippling feeling he did to me. If I wasn’t
restrained, I’d pounce on him and fuck him till the tingly, urgent, consuming
need disappeared. The only problem was, I didn’t think it would ever disappear.
And I didn’t want it to.

“Say
it again, Tess.” Q let me go, unbuttoning his blazer.

I
breathed hard, panting as he ripped the jacket off, dropping it on the floor.

“Fuck
me, master. I can’t stand not having you.”

He
groaned, kicking off his shoes as he undid his tie. An evil glint entered his
eyes. He slid the cream tie in his fingertips, looking at it then back to me.

My
heart lurched as he advanced. “Open.”

I
shook my head. “No. I won’t be able to breathe.”

“You’ll
breathe around it. You can bite down.”

I
clamped my mouth, moaning as he forced the tie between my lips, tying it. Once
secured, he kissed my gagged mouth, running the tip of his tongue along my
bottom lip. “You look
incroyable
gagged and bound,
esclave
. I’ll
suffer the embarrassment of coming in my trousers every time I think of
tonight.”

Stepping
back, he stripped. Not bothering to undo buttons, he tore his shirt open. Pings
of plastic sounded as buttons flew wild.

My
mouth dried, taking in his perfection. His smooth chest, cut with perfect
muscles. Sparrows fluttered, inked in blacks and browns, seeming alive with
their feathered detail. He undid his belt, then his fly, and stepped from his
trousers.

Standing
proud with only black boxer-briefs remaining, Q fondled his thick erection
while staring. Eyes zeroed in on my nipple clamped breasts. “Your flesh is so
swollen, Tessie.”

I
jerked.
Tessie.
Brax’s nickname for me. Guilt washed over me like a
tsunami and I coughed with pain. I betrayed Brax in the worst possible way. I
was a disloyal bitch.

Q
prowled close, looping fingers though the gag. “What did I say? Why do you
hurt?”

I
looked down, trying hard to push Brax away. I shouldn’t care, but I did. It was
mistake to ask Q to call me by my name. Tess might love the sadistic erotic
games with Q, but Tessie… she belonged to a simpler past.

Our
eyes locked, and Q seemed to understand. “You don’t like it when I call you
that.”

I
wished I felt differently but a tear rolled, and I nodded.

He
licked the droplet. “I don’t care for Tessie either. You’re mine. My Tess.”

My
eyes glazed and I swooned into him. Guilt evaporated and my lust returned a
thousand fold. I came to life under his stare.

And
he knew it. He pulled his cock free, wrapping fingers around the thick girth,
stroking hard. “Do you like it when I call you that? Mine? All fucking mine.”

I
shook my head, just to be troublesome. I couldn’t look away from Q stroking
himself. I arched my back, trying to find relief by rubbing tortured nipples on
his chest.

He
shuddered, pumping his cock. Reaching with his other hand, he speared two
fingers inside, stealing my wetness to smear over the tip, using my lubricant
as his own.

I
groaned and my body unravelled. My pussy clutched nothing, needing him inside. Nothing
else mattered in the world but having him. I wanted to scream at him to fuck me,
but the bloody gag turned my words to moans.

He
pressed his cock against my stomach, hitting me with it. I moaned and thrashed,
trying to get closer.

“Put
your legs around my hips.” Q held out his arms, ready to catch me.

Finally.
Yes. Yes
.

I
jumped, spreading my legs at the same time, using the binds to hoist myself. I
fitted snug against him. His hotness against my wetness. His throbbing cock so
close, it made me insane.  

His
eyes flashed as I rocked, smearing sensual liquid all over his cock and balls.
He groaned as I thrust unashamedly, providing much needed friction. I could
come like this. Humping my master like a dog in heat.

Reaching
between us, he pushed me back. Guiding his cock, he angled to meet my entrance.

In
one fast move, with hands on my hips, he pulled me onto him. Impaling me completely.
His length hit the top of my womb, bruising, stretching. The invasion turned my
mind to mush. I went rigid, moaning like the whore I was.

Q’s
face darkened with savage lust as he thrust once, fingers stabbing into flesh.
“Fuck, my cock belongs in you.” With one hand, he slapped my breast, activating
the clamp to squeeze, sending hurt and spasms of eager dampness between my
legs. I wouldn’t last long. Shit, I was so close, I rippled with release
already. An orgasm teetered on a knife-edge—sharp and deadly.

He
rolled his hips, meticulously slowly, dragging every ridge of him along every
ridge of me. I wanted to scream. I didn’t want slow. I wanted a rampage.

“Raise
your eyes,” Q ordered.

I
guided super heavy eyes from watching his cock fucking me, locking with his.
Pale jade fire blazed with demons he kept locked away. They flittered
ghostlike, swarming, urging him to lose control.

He
growled and thrust once.

Twice.

Three
times with ecstasy.

I
tossed my head, chewing on the gag, needing to moan, to vocalize just how much
he violated me—how much further I wanted him to go.

He
bucked again, grinding his teeth. “I hate you for making me break my vow.” His
face twisted with self-loathing and black delight.
“Ce que tu me fait?”
What are you doing to me?

Before
I could answer, Q lost all control. Baring his teeth, he dropped the barrier to
his demons, pounding into me. There was no rocking, or gentle lovemaking. He
pistoned hips into mine, grunting, sweating, a crazed look in his eye. His
manicured nails raked my ass, digging deep like rabid claws, inflicting pain in
other ways.

The
gag barricaded my screams. I bounced in his arms, breasts jiggling with every thrust.
The room erupted with the sounds of heavy breathing and slapping sweaty skin. The
air temperature was too hot. Q was too much. My body couldn’t handle the
sensory overload.