Despite my pain and anger, his voice wrapped around my heart. I struggled with visions of fighting harder, pushing him to the floor, straddling, begging him to deliver on whatever sinful promise he hinted.
But my fear of abandonment ruled stronger. I bowed my head. “And what is that?”
Q let me go. “Recognise me. See me. I am your master.”
My throat closed, fighting with injustice. He was my master, but for how long? I don’t have a choice in the length of my captivity. I never did. I never would.
He would never see me as Tess. As a girl. A woman who refused to bow to anyone. A woman who was more than just a f**king bribe.
I glared. “See me. I am not yours to torment.”
Our eyes clashed, locking with a battle of wills. How many of these nonverbal fights must we have? My breathing came hard as Q blazed with black desire. The air crackled with monstrous urges; even the birds shut up.
My body warmed, heated, melted. No, do not betray me. I couldn’t stop slickness building between my legs, or fantasies darting in my twisted mind.
It had been too long since my last orgasm. I’d saved myself for Q, now I never wanted him to visit me again.
Remorse and guilt sucked me into a pit. How could I think Q might be the one for me? He didn’t make my soul sing. He made it weep, and scream, and tear itself into pieces.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You just don’t want to see.”
“See what?” I snapped.
Grabbing my barcoded wrist, he jerked me against him. His body infernoed with heat. “You are mine. I can do what I want with you. I can dress you. Fuck you. Send you away. Loan you to others. You belong to me. And you’ve finally realized it isn’t romantic, it isn’t sexy, or fun. It’s something no one should want or desire. You’re a captive.”
He shook me, his headache etching eyes with pain. “My role as your master is to debase you to the point of having no feelings, no emotion, no hopes or dreams. I tell you to f**k another man, you ask for how long. I tell you to wear something, you do not f**king chop it up in defiance. You wear it, and appreciate what I give you. You’re mine, esclave. And it isn’t a f**king happy ever after.”
He let go, pushing so I stumbled. “How does it feel to face the truth?”
I couldn’t breathe. Facing the truth terrified more than anything. In that moment, I fully believed Q would do everything he said. He would debase me to the point of being empty. Happily treating me like a shoe or a tatty suitcase.
I was nothing.
Q advanced, grimacing with pain. “Get on your knees, esclave.” He pressed a heavy hand on my shoulder.
I was too numb to kick or run. So many emotions in such a short amount of time. What the hell just happened? One moment, I wanted to hear him call me Tess, the next, I wanted him dead. I couldn’t keep up.
Q forced me to my knees. “Undo my trousers.”
I didn’t think I’d ever find numbness again, but as I fumbled with Q’s belt, the cloud of indifference swept me away. My heart raced as I undid the zipper, pulling his hard c*ck free, but my mind went blank.
Q rocked on his feet, fisting my hair for balance. “Suck me. Make my headache go away by other means.”
I looked up, circling fingers around his hot girth. A non-interested thought flickered in the blankness. Either he was really brave, yelling at me then expecting me to suck him and not bite, or just incredibly stupid. I didn’t care either way, I’d obey.
I pumped once, shuffling forward on my knees to bring the tip of him to my lips. Q exhaled heavily, pushing h*ps forward.
I tongued his slit, tasting saltiness. The sense tried to shoot me back to reality—I could hold him ransom while I sucked. I could bite and cause immeasurable pain. I could barter for my freedom.
Opening wide, I deep throated him.
He groaned, tugging my hair as his ass clenched. I could bite, but I didn’t want to. Even now, my body betrayed. I trembled with lust, tinging vacancy with desire.
I withdrew, fisting him, licking.
“Oh, merde!”
I froze; Q scrambled back, holding his wet cock.
Suzette stood behind, mouth hanging open. “I’m sorry! I—eh—” Spinning around, she mumbled, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I rocked on my heels, keeping my head down. Q was livid, shoving himself into his trousers. He winced when the zipper came exceedingly close to sensitive skin. “C'est quoi ce bordel?” What the fuck?
She bounced, looking at the ceiling, fingers fluttering at her sides. “Je suis désolé, but there are some men here to see you, maître.”
Q breathed hard, smoothing his hair and suit, glaring at me so intensely it felt like another slap. My cheek smarted in response. “Send them away. I’m not prepared to accept guests so late.”
Suzette looked over her shoulder, relief on her face. Spinning all the way around, she looked at me with her soul bared.
Heartbeats galloped out of control. Instincts screamed into being and I wanted to block my ears. Looming palm-trees seemed to inch closer, branching with doom. I didn’t want her to speak.
“They won’t leave, Q. They have a warrant.”
He spun to face her. “Warrant?”
I slapped a hand over my mouth. My world imploded. The police. Brax. He got my message. He was alive! Brax is alive and sent someone to rescue me!
My heart bucked; I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do anything but kneel.
Hopelessness squeezed as Q turned to face me slowly. I shrivelled. The consequences of running away, once again ruined my life.
The police had come for Q. I ruined his life—just like he ruined mine.
That’s not true, and you know it. He gave you back your life. He introduced you to a new life. A better life. I forced my brain to quiet, risking a look at Suzette.
Her eyes brimmed with disappointment and overwhelming sadness. I folded closer to the floor, hating betraying her.
She broke eye contact, looking at Q. “The police believe you’re holding a girl called Tess Snow,” Suzette whispered, voice breaking.
She took two angry steps toward me, but Q held up his arm, barricading. “How could you? You—you…” She trailed off, mouth twisting with grief. “We all trusted you.”
My life shattered for the fourth and final time.
Q froze, all trace of pain and emotion, gone. “That’s your name? Tess?”
My body fissured with longing. He spoke my name. Finally, after almost two months of esclave.
It rolled off his tongue in one beautiful French twist; I wanted his tongue on me. I wanted to forget everything—to pretend he never said such horrid things or that I brought his life and business to ruin. I wanted to give him my heart and forget.
“Tess…” Q whispered, before baring his teeth. Shadows cloaked him and the look of betrayal flayed more than any whip. “You called the police.” His shoulders sagged, and the pain he hid smothered again.
Suzette leaned into him; he welcomed her, tugging her close.
My body rebelled as jealousy glowed bright and green. How dare he find solace in his maid. I was his slave. Find solace with me—even though I’m the crux of your ruin!
He nodded once. “So be it.”
Chapter 19
*Goldfinch*
Q and Suzette left.
Without another glance or word, Q turned his back and strode out of my life.
My legs hurt from kneeling, but it was nothing compared to the paralyzing heartbreak.
I should be happy. Brax was alive! But I was dead to my master and didn’t know what my future held. The police would arrest him. They’d take me back to Australia, and return me to a half-life—a false life—a life I no longer wanted.
I didn’t know how long I rocked, but a puddle of tears dampened the marble below.
You did this. You ran because you knew it isn’t right. Q isn’t right. I tried to convince myself to stand, to embrace my freedom, and leave this house where so many bad things happened, but I couldn’t gather the energy.
Stumbling to my feet, I shivered. The birds were silent and the hushed world of plants made it seem like I was the only one alive. No one wanted me. My abandonment issues crested, swamping with wretchedness.
In a daze, I walked from the conservatory, through the photograph room, and down the long corridor. Every step felt as if I walked to the hangman’s noose. I never wanted to see Suzette again—face her rage and tears. She loved Q and I sentenced him to jail. She would never call me Ami again.
I didn’t want Q to go to jail. He was many things, but he didn’t deserve what I did. He could’ve broken me, raped me like Brute, but he never did. He fought his desires to ensure I remained whole and strong. He sacrificed everything for a lowly slave.
My stomach cramped and I folded in half. What have I done? I evicted myself from a home I wanted, to a world who didn’t want me. Back to a man who could never give what I needed. Back to a half existence.
Tears slid down my face. Running away had been a disaster. Anger flared toward Franco. This was all his fault. If he kept a better eye, I would never have been able to leave. He should’ve caught me, before I ruined so many lives.
My thoughts jumped to Brax. Guilt engulfed me. How had the last months been for him? He must hate me for breaking my promise—I said I would never leave, and I did. The first time not on my own accord, but the second time—that was all me. I willingly sliced him from my thoughts, my heart, and made room for my master.
Images of Brax, distraught and heartbroken, made my heart twist. My brain short-circuited refusing to think about him.
Q consumed once again, and I slid down the wall, drawing my knees up to wrap arms around them. What if the police took him into custody already? I would never see him again. Oh, God. Would I be made to testify? I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
No doubt, he would hate me for all eternity, wishing he let Brute kill and bury me with the potatoes.
My heart died.
I wanted everything from him. I wanted the domination. The anger. But I also wanted love. I needed the connection he offered only half an hour ago. A brief glimpse into a softer side—a side I desperately wanted to know. I’m a stupid, stupid girl.
“Esclave. What are you doing on the floor?” Franco appeared in his shiny black suit, squatting in front of me.
I couldn’t meet his eyes. He would be implicated, too. Why hadn’t the police rounded everyone up? I didn’t hear sirens or shouts. Suzette said only a warrant had been served… maybe… maybe they wouldn’t do anything?
Franco patted my shoulder, vivid emerald eyes sad. “You regret running, don’t you?”
I sucked in a sob, wrapping arms tighter. Franco had been nothing but nice to me. Strict and a prick when I first arrived, but nice just the same. His tough façade hid a man who loved his employer for reasons I was only beginning to understand.
He sighed, brushing tear-damp curls off my cheek. “There, there. It’s okay. It’s not the end of the world.”
I shook my head. “It is the end of the world. My world. My master’s world. Your world. Everything is broken.”
“Is that what you were doing? When I found in you in the café? Calling the police?” he asked, no glimmer of anger, just curiosity.