The Thrill of It (32 page)

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Authors: Lauren Blakely

BOOK: The Thrill of It
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She lied to me, of course, saying I hadn’t hurt her with my belt. But I had. And the constant war of delicious satisfaction at hurting her and the horror at hurting someone as perfect as Tess kept me up at night.

I fucking shouldn’t want to beat the ever-living daylights out of her, but I did. Oh, shit how I did.

“Q. You can’t keep all your thoughts locked up now you’ve let me into your life. I see the torment in your eyes. You promised me you’d talk and let me in.” Her voice held pain, but also annoyance. We’d both made promises and so far, neither of us had lived up to them. Not that it mattered—I had every intention of breaking my end of the bargain. She wasn’t strong enough.
I wasn’t strong enough.

Early days, idiot. Just relax.

Relax? How could I ever relax? I never knew if I’d be able to fight the urge to be such a maniac bastard if I didn’t keep a tight rein at all times.

“I’m exhausted,” I murmured. Did she hear the ulterior confession? That it hadn’t even been a week of accepting this relationship—if it could even be called that—and I was already fucking frayed. I needn’t have asked—of course Tess saw the truth. She saw too damn much.

“Stop fighting then. You haven’t touched me since I came back to you. You hardly look at me apart from when I flinch if I sit on a sore spot on my ass. You’re even more remote than when I was sold to you.”

I growled deep in my chest at the sold remark. I hated the bastards who’d stolen and sold her. Every time I thought about what might’ve happened to Tess if she hadn’t have been given to me, I wanted to turn feral. Strip my falseness of businessman and paint my walls with their blood. Screw having civilized business meetings with criminals. I was done with that shit.

My hands curled and I trembled with pent up rage.
I’m kidding myself.
I sighed deeply. “I can’t be tender with you. And I hate that I got carried away with hitting you.” There? Was she fucking satisfied? I opened up to her about things I wished I could vomit out of me. Hurl this darkness from deep inside, purge my heart so I could be sweet and kind and the perfect man for her. Not the savage, sex-hungry beast.

Her breath caught and a soft finger trailed along my forearm. “Thank you. You don’t know what a relief it is for you to talk to me. Explain your brooding silences. Can you tell me about your nightmare now?”

I glared at her and sat upright. Pushy woman. She’d successfully freaked me out and pissed me off with her questions.

Rolling to the side of the ginourmous bed, I perched on the edge with my head in my hands. I didn’t want to be a coward and run, but this was all too new. My tower room with its ridiculously large fireplace and ocean-sized white carpet still looked the same, nothing outward had changed, but Tess was wreaking havoc on my soul. I didn’t know if I’d be able to survive letting her dig deeper into my world.

The nightmare roared back to full colour.
All that blood, so bright with a coppery tang, almost sweet. Her snowy skin extra frosty, grey-blue eyes closed to me.

No. I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t strong enough and somehow the evilness of my father would make me do the one thing I’d run from my entire life. I lived my life with rules, shackles. I wasn’t prepared to let a delicate, fragile little bird taunt me to untwine myself and chase her. I’d win. And I’d lose when I killed her.

You sound like a fucking girl, Mercer.

I flinched as Tess scampered across the bedspread and draped herself over my naked back. Her soft fingertips traced my tattoo of fluttering sparrows and barbwire. I clenched my jaw as her touch whispered lower and lower, down my abs, heading to my cock.

I meant to stop her. I really did, but she grasped me hard through my boxer shorts and I groaned. One touch was all I needed to make me achingly hard and drowning in dark desire.

Tess coaxed me to rigidness, all while nibbling on my ear. “If you’re frightened of hurting me, Q… you won’t. I trust you.”

I bit out. “I don’t trust you yet. I don’t want to break you.”
I don’t trust myself to stop.

She stopped stroking me and pulled back. Her warmth left me with a shiver. “I gave you my word to fight you. I’ve slept in your bed for four nights and the most you’ve done is peck my cheek goodnight. You haven’t used your belt or chains or any of those toys I glimpsed in that mirrored chest of yours.”

Her eyes flittered to the end of the bed where the chest lay. Locked. No way did I want her going in there. It held all my sins and things that weren’t classified as sex toys.

I groaned, gripping my head. What monster wanted to capture the blood of the woman he’d given his life to? I was right to keep myself so aloof, so obsessed with work. By staying overworked, I had no time for other needs.

I hadn’t been to work in four days as the thought of being away from Tess turned my stomach into a rock, but it was a mistake to think I could give up my way of life and not suffer consequences.

I had to find a way to cure myself. I had to stop this before Tess successfully goaded me into doing something I regretted.

Tess grumbled something and swung her legs off the bed. Her ass still held purple shadows from my belt. How many lashes did I give her that night? I counted thirty, but that was after the ones I already struck. My heart squeezed at the thought of how easy it was to lose myself around her, but a millisecond later it was overshadowed by the overwhelming urge to create more raw, angry bruises on her perfect skin. I wanted her over my knee. I wanted to have those perfect crystal tears splashing my thigh as I hit her.

Goddammit, she said I scared her soul… would she let me scar her skin?

Tess stood in front of me. Her toned legs splayed, hands on her hips. So proud and regal in her own skin. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. My mouth went dry as the beast inside prowled and hurled itself against the cage, trying so hard to get at her. To rip her. Ravage her.

I shut my eyes, pulling myself together.

Tess folded to her knees between my legs, and pressed her lips against my boxer clad cock.

I flinched and gasped. The heat of her breath, the delicateness of her lips drove me insane.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just taunt you until you can’t help it. You have me. I’m your slave while we’re in the bedroom and I want to be used. I crave it. Why don’t you get that yet?”

She wanted to taunt me? Fine. I lashed out and grabbed a thick handful of messy blonde curls. Leaning down to her eye level, I stared right into the depths of her being, allowing her to see the turmoil in mine. The need, the anguish, the fine line of hatred and love for her for forcing me to accept this part of myself.

Tess sucked in a breath, shrinking beneath the weight of my stare. I shook her, loving the small blaze of pain in her eyes. Shit, would I ever become repulsed by hurting her rather than turned on?

“I understand you want me to show you what my fantasies are, but you have to give me time,
esclave
.” My heart raced at the word. For four days, I refused to call her by anything but Tess. She wasn’t my slave. She wasn’t my possession. Never had been and never would be. I hated how even though I knew she was there on her own accord—for her crazy infatuation with me—that I still wanted ultimate ownership. It was wrong of me to call her my slave when she was my equal. She was Tess. My Tess.

Her eyelids slammed closed and she swayed into me, her lips parting. “Say it again,
maître
. Remind me of my place.”

Shit, this fucking woman. She wasn’t curing me, she was making it worse. How could I expect to keep her alive and not let my dreams come true when she forced me down this path?

Something unlocked inside, some darkness billowed, blocking out the light I’d been fighting so hard to keep bright.

Tess noticed. Her body tensed, her fingers digging into my thighs.

I bent closer, glowering, “You’re disobeying me,
esclave
. I think I may have to punish you.”

She shuddered under my grip, eyes flaring wide with a sexy glint. The same glint that told me she was about to rebel and cause me to snap. Shit, I didn’t have the strength to stop myself again. My energy was depleted. The monster was in full control.

Tess stroked my thigh once, before whispering harshly, “You aren’t allowed to punish me. I’ll run again. Don’t dare touch me.”

Fuck.

In one swoop, I hauled her to her feet. Her hands flew to mine clutched in her silky curls. Her blue-grey eyes smoldered to smoke, her perfect pink lips trembled.

“You really shouldn’t push me. I asked for time.” I shook her hard, pissed at her for making me lose control. “I’m done fighting. You happy now?”

Her mouth parted and she sucked in a shaky breath. A flicker of indecision filled her eyes before being swallowed by heavy, heated lust. “Yes.”

I pulled her forward, licking my lips at the thought of kissing her like she deserved to be kissed. Hard. Ruthless. Her breath caught, and her eyes fluttered closed as I whispered my mouth against hers.

She sighed as I licked her lower lip in one quick swipe.

I pulled away, releasing her hair to capture her wrist. “You should know by now I don’t do things that you want me to do,
esclave
. Your permission isn’t what gets me off.”

She frowned as I dragged her across the thick white carpet and forced her to kneel again in front of the mirrored chest. Breathing hard, I stalked to where I left my trousers on the floor last night and withdrew the key.

“Open it.” I passed the key to her, my hand steady but heart beating wildly.

She glared before taking the metal and slipping it obediently into the lock. I stood with my back rigid and every muscle on high alert. Tess thought I had a soul. A heart. What she would find in the chest would prove all her stupid sweet fantasies weren’t real.

There was no doubt I wanted Tess. There was no question she’d made me feel something I’d never felt before… but there was also no doubt that it wasn’t enough. I was too damaged from too young an age to be able to change. And if she hoped she could save me, change me, mold me… whatever we had wouldn’t last long.

Releasing 15th December 2013.

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