Tess’s eyes locked onto the silver scissors, her cheeks flushing with memories.
“Do you remember me cutting you? Slicing off your clothes that night before I took you over the bed? I hit you hard but you came harder. That was the moment I knew. The moment I knew you craved pain like I needed to inflict it.”
“Yes. I remember,” she panted. Her chest pinked, casting her white skin with the tempting shade. Her gaze shot to mine, bright and feverish. Was it the fear of where I would f**k her tonight or the martinis?
I hoped it was the fear.
“Are you drunk, esclave?”
She shook her head, hypnotising me with her blonde tresses rippling over her shoulders. “No. I was tipsy before, but now…now I’m drunk on other things.”
My c**k thickened. Snipping the metal blades, I pressed the cool bite against Tess’s neck where the dress tied at the back. Her breathing quickened. She swayed, but made no move to stop me.
Holding eye contact, I cut the halter. I shuddered with longing as the material freed, drooping down her front. The swell of her br**sts made my mouth water. I wanted to bite her. I wanted to see my teeth marks in her pale tender flesh.
“Dare, Tess.”
She wobbled on her feet as I trailed the tips of the scissors over the tops of her br**sts, dipping possessively into her cle**age. She moaned, flinching from the prick of the blade.
“You dare me to let you cut off my clothes?” She shrugged, shivering as I did another cut. “You clearly don’t need my permission, maître.”
I smiled, deliberately dragging the sharp tips up from her cle**age, transfixed by the red welt I left behind—I didn’t break the skin, but Tess was so sensitive, flushed with blood. “That’s not the dare,” I murmured.
Her gaze swirled with confusion. “What is then?”
“How many times you’ll let me cut you.” A full body shiver rippled through my muscles at the sick sentence. I should be repulsed, embarrassed by my need to mark her—especially because she let me brand her—but I wasn’t. I’d told her the ‘Q’ sigil stopped those urges.
I lied.
I still needed the power over her mortal body. I needed to see her bleed for me, cry for me.
Her eyelashes flared wide as her pupils dilated—half with panic, half with lust. “How many times?” Rocking back, trying to avoid the ever steady snip down the centre of her dress, she hesitated. “Cut my dress as much as you want—leave me skin alone.”
I shook my head. “That’s not the dare.” Slicing again, the tightness of the bodice started to loosen, revealing the purple lace cupping Tess’s beautiful f**king br**sts.
Her hands opened and closed, trying unsuccessfully to hide her nerves. “You’re not playing the game correctly.”
I snipped hard, deliberately catching the soft sensitive skin just below her bra line. “Oh no…how terrible of me.”
Snip.
It was my way of cutting into her shell, carving an entry into her heart. I pushed the sharp tip into her bra, circling her nipple.
Her stomach rose and fell with every millimetre.
My c**k literally burned to be inside her. Every tiny movement made my balls tighten and snarl against the prison of my trousers. Was it the alcohol coaxing me to reckless sensitivity or the knowledge of where I’d be filling Tess tonight?
I didn’t really care if it was the whiskey. Tonight she was mine. All of her.
“You don’t ask me how many times. You dare me.” Her eyes smouldered. “So, master…how many times do you dare me to bleed for you?”
Fuck. Me.
The beast instead howled at the delicious f**king question. So brutal. So unpretentious. Grabbing the back of her neck, I kissed her like a savage animal intent on drinking her soul.
Her hands came up, pushing against my chest as I plunged my tongue past her lips, giving her no choice but to open wide and receive.
Her touch seared my skin beneath my shirt; her roaming fingertips crept up my chest, running hot along my collarbone.
Then she ripped the material, sending buttons pinging and air rushing against my tattooed torso.
Her teeth captured my bottom lip, somehow taking control of the kiss for a second before I lost my cool and slammed her backward, upward, and onto the bed.
The air flew from her lungs into mine. I pinned her down with my fingers around her throat. “Three. I dare you to do three.”
Her lips were swollen and red and so, so wet from our kiss.
She arched up, forcing her vulnerable neck into my fingers. Her breathing turned ragged. “Four. I dare you to do four.”
Oh, my f**king God, what was she doing? Now was not the night to fight back—now was definitely not the time to make me lose the rest of my fractured control.
Something skittered in her eyes before hiding in their grey depths. I reared onto my elbows, releasing her neck. “Why?” Suspicion chased hot through my veins.
She looked away, but I grabbed her chin. “What do you dare in return?”
Her body stiffened, but her gaze locked with mine. “I dare you not to take my anal virginity tonight. Give me more time.”
My stomach gnashed with livid teeth. “That’s your dare? You’re so damn afraid of something I guarantee will bring you pleasure.”
My imagination stole reality giving me a snuff movie of erotic torture.
Her crying as I slid into her for the first time.
Her thighs and cheeks glowing from my spanks.
Taking her ass with my cock, while filling her pu**y with a quivering vibrator.
My hands curled at that vision. I ached to fill her with my c**k and a vibrator all at once. I wanted her stretched and overly full. I wanted her to know exactly who she belonged to.
Flipping her onto her stomach, I hoisted up her skirts and snipped with silver scissors at her knickers. They fell away, leaving her ass perfectly bare, the glisten of arousal slick between her legs.
She jolted as I pressed a finger against her clit, dragging the tip through her wet folds and up to the one place she denied me.
My c**k pulsed with the first wave of pr**cum as she rolled her hips, trying to dislodge my touch. She was so tight, so shy, so f**king amazing.
“Maître, please…I’m not saying no…just not now.”
“What scares you so much, esclave?” I pressed against her hole, loving the tight muscle, the blatant refusal to allow entry—so different to her pu**y which beckoned with its wet, dark heat.
I’d never stop loving her taste or tightness, but I wanted this, too. A lot.
Gathering more of her damp desire, I swirled it around the puckered muscle digging fingernails into her hip when she tried to squirm away. “Tell me. In detail. And maybe I’ll accept your dare.”
Her head hung down, a curtain of blonde hiding her eyes. “I don’t know. It’s just foreign. Something I never thought I wanted. It’s not…sexy.”
Not f**king sexy? She obviously didn’t see what I did. Didn’t she know her shyness was a heady aphrodisiac? Knowing it was the one place no one else had gone. It drove me to breaking point.
I laughed, never stopping my stroking, dying to use force to break the seal of her body and take her anyway. “It’s not sexy? Fuck, esclave. Seeing you like this, wanting you that way…it’s the sexiest f**king thing I’ve ever seen.”
Lowering my head, I bit the feminine curve of her hip, sinking my teeth hard. Keeping her locked in my hold, I spread her cheeks and ran my tongue down her seam.
She jolted as I pressed harder with my finger, breaching her body with digit and tongue.
She reared upright, a moan echoing around the room. I slapped a hand between her shoulder blades pressing her back on the bed, keeping her ass high and open.
It was a good thing my c**k was still in my pants because the ache between my eyes was excruciating. The need to f**k building. Foreplay was almost over. Hard and fast was quickly approaching, and I wanted it. I wanted to slam inside her and come like a volcano.
Tess’s face thrashed on the bed as I wiggled my finger a little deeper. A trail of wetness shone on her cheeks.
My mouth watered to lick her tears; her delicious salty sadness.
“Tell me how that feels.” I didn’t want to admit the chase turned me the f**k on. Knowing she was genuinely scared only made it more of a prize.
She shook her head, breathing hard. A hitch of tears broke her pant. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Thrusting my finger, I toyed with her ass, drawing yet more wetness from both her pu**y and her eyes. As much as she denied it—it turned her on.
“I’ll help make up your mind.” Curving my back, I licked her again, dropping my mouth to latch onto her pu**y. My c**k felt as if I broke it in two, crushing it between my f**king legs.
Her cunt clenched as I pushed my tongue inside her.
Her face pressed against the mattress, hiding her tiny scream. “Dammit, Q. Damn you.” Her h*ps rocked back, surprising me as she forced my finger a fraction deeper.
I almost came.
Removing my finger, I slapped her ass.
She flinched. My eyes tightened at the red handprint painting her white cheek. I struck again, obsessed with turning her flawless skin into a riot of violence. I wanted to grant her pain. Endless pain. A dynasty of pain.
“How does that make you feel?” I growled, smacking her again. The whiskey took hold, speeding me toward a conclusion. I couldn’t drag it out any longer.
“Like I’m on fire. I’m burning for you, Q.”
I dropped my hand to slap her pu**y.
Her legs tried to close, but I kept her on display. Her folds were swollen, wet, so f**king ready for me to fill. “And this. How does it make you feel?” I slapped her again, twisting her cl*t in punishment.
She arched, fighting my hold on her. “It makes me feel like a whore. Your whore. I want you so bad.”
My eyes snapped closed. If this woman didn’t own my soul already now she did. She was perfect. A miracle. Mine. Her body didn’t recoil from my merciless love. She allowed me the freedom I craved.
She’d given me so much. I couldn’t take from her what she still feared—no matter the turn on. “Four,” I growled, breathing rough and ragged. “Four cuts in return for giving you another night of freedom.”
She moaned loud as I hit her again—the hardest one yet. A five finger shape decorated her ass, stamping firm ownership on the woman I would marry in forty-eight hours. She may be my wife soon but she would always be my whore.
“Tell me where I can cut you, esclave.” I yanked her back, rubbing her pu**y against my trouser-clad cock. “Tell me!” The scissors lay beside my knee, digging into me as I thrust against her.
“Anywhere!” Her face flushed, her lips baring her teeth. “Anywhere you want.”
Anywhere?
A slow smile spread my lips. “Où je veux…” Anywhere I want…
Tess nodded. “My legs, my br**sts, my throat—it’s all yours to mark. Do it!”
She’d given me a smorgasbord of places to mark her. But I had a better idea.
Snatching the scissors from the bedspread, I scrambled off the mattress. Grabbing her ankle, I pulled her to the edge, loving how the material gathered upward, bunching around her waist.
Her eyes popped wide as I collected her in a bouquet of torn dress and netting. Arms around her waist, I carted her to the window.
Tess froze as I placed her on her feet in front of the curtain. “Q…” Understanding flashed across her face. “You wouldn’t—”
I gave her a harsh smile. “I warned you.” Tearing back the curtain, I welcomed in the night sky. Stars flickered then dulled as wisps of clouds drifted across the dark like graffiti spray. The clear night was a perfect backdrop to the twinkling lights of the street below. Passer-by’s linked arms, strolling in the chilly but romantic evening.
Only three stories. High enough to possibly avoid people watching or the perfect height for an exclusive glimpse.
“I would and I am,” I muttered. “I’m adding to my dare. You said I could cut you anywhere. I want to cut you right here, against the window, while I make you come and give the world a show.”
Swivelling her in place, I pushed her forward until her chest met the glass. Her hands came up, splaying on the cold surface. With unforgiving fingers, I tore the remaining bodice from her, fully exposing her heavy br**sts.
She jumped as I cut off her bra and slammed her torso against the glass, forcing her ni**les to meet the icy reflection.
Tess hissed as I forced her harder against the barrier—the only thing stopping us from falling three stories. A shiver ran down her spine.
Fitting my body behind her, I nuzzled her ear. “I think you want people to see. I think you want people to watch as I finger you, f**k you, make you scream.”
I dragged my hands over her sides to her hips, forcing her to accept a thrust as I looked directly into my own eyes.
The reflection of the lights behind us showed Tess flushed and glowing like a f**king goddess while I lurked in the shadows. Only my pale gaze was visible.
Stroking her quivering back, I cupped the back of her neck. Unable to help myself, I unsheathed my teeth, sinking into her shoulder.
Tess cried out, wiggling against the imprisonment of my body and the window. “Q—”
Grabbing one of her hands, I guided it to my stiff cock. “Free me, Tess. Then I’m going to take you so f**king hard.”
I groaned as her fingers immediately obeyed, ripping the zipper down, fumbling into the tight elastic of my boxer-briefs.
She had no fear. No terror. I’d cured her. I’d brought her back to life. I was making her live in that very moment.