Lauren Blakely - The Thrill of It

“All my life, I battled with the knowledge I was twisted… fucked up to want something so deliciously dark—wrong on so many levels. But then slave fifty-eight entered my world. Hissing, fighting, with a core of iron, she showed me an existence where two wrongs make a right.”

Tess is Q’s completely. Q is Tess’s irrevocably. But now, they must learn the boundaries of their unconventional relationship, while Tess seeks vengeance on the men who sold her. Q made a blood-oath to deliver their corpses at Tess’s feet, and that’s just what he’ll do.

He may be a monster, but he’s Tess’s monster.

-Q-

I thought I would be her nightmare—her terror and darkness. I wanted to be. I needed her more than food or sunlight. Only when she came into my life did I start to live—intoxicated by her taste, screams, and joy.

But our fucked up fairytale didn’t exactly have a happy ending.

Tess.

My Tess.

My esclave—so strong and fierce and sexually feral—wasn’t strong enough for what happened.

Her cage wasn’t me anymore.

It was them.

-Q-

All I could think was—she’s dead. She had to be. All that blood, so bright with a coppery tang, almost sweet.

Her snowy skin was extra frosty, grey-blue eyes closed to me.

Rage and terror strangled as I fell to my knees in the warm puddle of crimson. The whip in my hands was slippery with sweat, and I hurled it away in disgust. I did this. I let myself go and showed my true self. The monster inside ruined the only brightness in my life.

“Tess?” I pulled her into my arms, dragging her cold, lifeless form closer. Blood smeared over us. Her red-welted body oozed with damnation.

“Wake up, esclave,” I growled, hoping an order would force those dove-blue eyes open. No response.

I bent, pressing my cheek against her mouth, waiting endlessly for a small puff of breath, a signal I hadn’t gone too far.

Nothing.

Fear stopped my heart, and all I wanted to do was rewind time. Rewind to a simpler place where I lived with needs and urges, but never let myself believe I could be free. Rewind to the day when Tess arrived, and I promptly sent her back to her silly boyfriend Brax. At least if I did, she would be safe and my life wouldn’t have ended.

At least then, Tess would be alive.

My demons killed her.

I killed her.

I threw my head back and howled.

“Q. Q!”

Something sharp bit my shoulder and I flinched. Rolling away, I tried to ignore the call. I deserved to stay in this endless hell. The hell I created for killing the one woman who stole my life and showed me an emotion I never dared dream for: connection.

My cheek smarted as if someone slapped me, blazing through the darkness with a bite of pain.

Eyes snapped open to a wild-eyed, blonde goddess on top of me. The debilitating terror wouldn’t leave, even though she was alive and glaring with passion I grew to know so well.

“What the hell, Q. That’s the third time this week. You going to tell me what you’re dreaming about to warrant howling like a werewolf?” Tess pinned my shoulders to the mattress and I couldn’t stop muscles from tensing. I liked her on top, but I didn’t like her holding me as if she was in control. It wasn’t how I worked.

“None of your business.” I rolled, grabbing her hips to pin her beneath me. I risked a small smile. With her under me, my world righted again. I ran hands over her waist, up her throat, to her lips. Her breath fluttered, coming faster and the rest of my panic receded.

She was still breathing.

I hadn’t killed her.

Yet.

Tess ran her hand softly over my cheek, tickling. “You should tell me what you’re afraid of. Brax used to—”

I froze, grinding my teeth. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that sentence.” Goddammit, why did she have to bring the ghost of her goody-too-shoes boyfriend who treated her like a fragile princess into our bed?

Tess squeezed her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… it’s just—I’m concerned. If you’re having bad dreams because of me, give me the opportunity to make them go away.”

It was too early in the morning to suffer an inquisition. Four days since Tess appeared on my doorstep and gave me no choice to accept her. Accept her fire, spirit, and sharp tenacity. I may be a controlling bastard but the moment Tess stalked into my life I lost my balls to her.

I hoped she didn’t know just how much she affected me, because I was shit terrified of what the future meant for us.

The promises she made of being strong enough for me; the blood oath that linked us together for as long as that blood pumped in our veins.

Four days since my life changed forever and I’d been in constant, excruciating pain ever since.

“Leave it alone,” I grumbled. This woman was an icy glacier to my unmovable mountain of a vow. My solemn vow that I’d never accept the fucking darkness or be a sadistic asshole like my father. But the glacier was winning, millimeter by millimeter, centimeter by centimeter. Her ice slithered in between the hairline fractures of my will, making them larger, making the cracks harder to ignore.

For four days, I’d successfully ignored her advances for sex. Memories of taking her over the bar in the gaming room were still too raw. Tess still couldn’t sit without wincing. I knew she hurt—not that she ever complained. I watched her every movement like a vulture reading the weakness of his prey.

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.