I stayed frozen, still held by Q’s fist. “But I don’t need to know. All I need is to trust you. And I do. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. It isn’t,” Q muttered, tugging on my hair. “You think you trust me—but I’m not so sure.” He bit the sensitive skin behind my ear. “I know what happened between us—I know what I almost did, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea to step into the dark so soon.”

My anger—that had been missing for so long—sprang into being. “Don’t. You can’t.”

“Can’t what, esclave?”

“You can’t deny me. I’m finally giving you the opportunity to bring me into your world and now you’re chickening out.” I stomped my foot, the haze in my brain tinging everything with red. “Take me. I’m not asking; I’m demanding.”

He chuckled. “Is that a threat, Tess?”

His tone shot right through my heart, granting equal measures of hot and cold. Yes. Say yes. Push him. Force him. My pussy clenched, hungry for sex. “Yes, it’s a threat. It’s about time you punished me. I’ve been bad—I deserve everything you can give.”

His heat disappeared as he took a step away, spinning me to face him. My back slammed against the table as the towel fell from my body, puddling on the floor. “Punish you? Why the fuck do I need to punish you?”

My chest fluttered, sucking in shallow breaths. The word ‘punish’ echoed in my brain.

Punish.

Punish.

I blinked. Didn’t he realize I knew he’d struggled with me hurting him? For weeks he’d shut down, dealing with whatever issues I’d put between us. I’d shut him out, made him doubt. I’d damaged him. “For that night,” I said, not needing to elaborate.

Q snarled. “You think I’m still hung up on that?” He gripped my hips, digging his fingers painfully. “You let me bring you back to life. I couldn’t be more fucking grateful. And if you knew what I’d done only an hour ago, you’d know it’s not you who needs forgiveness.”

His voice softened, something dark filling his eyes. “I told you never to lie to me, but I lied to you.”

What? My heart lodged in my throat. I frantically searched his eyes. “Why? How?”

He shook his head slowly and with such finality all my pixie dust and lustful haze disappeared, leaving me a block of ice. “Q?”

Looking deep into his gaze, I shrank away at the bleak resolution reflecting there. “It wasn’t what I said—it was what I thought. All this time, I’ve been annoyed at you for not trusting me. And now you do trust me…but I’m not sure I trust you.” Sighing, he pressed the tip of his nose against mine. “I accept everything you’re giving me. I want to let go—not fully, as I don’t have the power to come completely undone—but enough to show you what I need. I want to hurt you. I want to make you cry—I want to punish you, Tess, but I don’t trust you’re doing it for the right reasons. I think you’re doing this entirely for me and not for us.”

Was that true? Am I giving him my pain, with no limitations, purely for his pleasure?

No, I didn’t believe that. I’d been so wary of everything Q had to offer up till now. I’d wanted it but skated around it at the same time. This time…I truly wanted to fling myself head first into his world. And his refusal frustrated the hell out of me.

With gentle fingers, I hooked them into his towel, fumbling to undo it. His eyes darkened as the damp fabric fell away from his hips, leaving him naked, crowding me against the table.

“No more thinking. Put our demons to rest right here, right now. Let me prove you can trust me. I’m done being scared, Q. I’m done being weak. I’m going to love everything you give me. I’m going to scream and come and cry. And then I’m going to fall in love with you even more and demand you marry me the moment the sun rises tomorrow.”

Q shuddered, looking as if he wanted to strike and consume all at once.

I froze, waiting to see if he would kiss me.

He didn’t.

“Do you know what hurt the most?” he muttered.

“No.” I worried he’d slipped into insecurity, talking himself out of whatever was about to happen.

“It was your willingness to hand over your sanity and happiness. And now you’re doing it again and it’s fucking with my head—”

“I’m not doing it again. I really—”

He bared his teeth. “I haven’t finished. Don’t interrupt.”

I dropped my eyes, flushing with heat.

“You’re fucking with my head, but this time…I believe you. I believe you’re doing this for you, too. I believe you do want me to make you scream, and I’m going to fucking love it.” He gave me a half smile looking like the true devil in the darkness. “Does that scare you?”

There was no lie. No half-truth. “No.”

His body shifted; the air filled with promise. In one swift move, Q spun me around, imprisoning me against his front and the table. The edge of the wood dug into my hips as he folded over me, pressing his chest on my back until my breasts squashed against the felt.

With nothing between us, his skin burned mine, intoxicatingly delicious.

“Good answer. This time— Je te crois.” I believe you.

My heart sprouted feathery wings, tickling my chest in hope. “You’re going to give in?”

“I’m going to give in, but not let go.”

Okay, that would have to do for now. “You’re going to trust that I want this as much as you?”

His hands trailed over my sides. “I’m going to trust you, esclave.”

“You’re going to punish me?”

“I’m going to punish you.”

“How?” I whispered.

Q paused. “How?”

“How are you going to punish me? I want to hear you say it.” Locking eyes with his over my shoulder, I squirmed against the table, dropping my hand to my front, touching the wet heat between my legs.

Q’s nostrils flared, his gaze riveted on my disappeared hand. “Tess—fuck.”

I’d missed this—taunting, provoking. He may be in control, but I had all the power. I moaned as I stroked downward, loving how slick he’d made me.

Harsh fingers latched around my wrist, yanking my hand away. Anger decorated his face, along with sharp-edged desire. “That’s not yours to play with. That’s mine. And I’ll tell you how I’m going to fucking punish you. I’m going to taste every inch of you. I’m going to steal all your inhibitions. You’re going to come on my fingers, tongue, and cock. You’re going to unravel, Tess, and I’m going to lick up every drop.”

His hand twisted my neck, tilting me sideways to kiss me. His mouth crashed against mine, swallowing my moan, locking his arms around me. I couldn’t do anything but accept his brutal assault. I skipped from reality the moment he caught my tongue, sucking as if every inch of my mouth belonged to him.

I knew what I was letting myself in for. I knew Q wouldn’t take it easy on me. I also knew I never wanted anything more in my life.

Kicking my ankle, Q spread my legs, positioning his cock right in the centre of my ass. Breaking the kiss, he growled, “Time for talking has ended, esclave. Now’s the time for fucking.”

He’d said something similar just before whipping me on the cross. A thrill shot through my blood; I melted.

A hand landed on my ass, bringing with it flames and thunder. I jolted in his arms, biting my lip against the pain. “I’m going to own every inch of you tonight. Including your mind.”

I couldn’t breathe. Even the purple clouds floating in my blood couldn’t stop one question blaring in my head.

Do I still want this?

 Did I still want pain or had that been false bravado—making me believe my own lies.

Q’s hand came down again, striking me in the same place, igniting a bonfire. My eyes prickled with tears even as the fire from my skin slowly migrated into my blood, heating me, dissolving every inch of my past.

Yes. Yes, I do.

The knowledge sent my hips rolling, provoking Q as I wiggled.

He struck me again, lower this time, more thigh than ass, but it felt just as good. A stinging good—a pain I’d forgotten how to compute, but my body remembered. I gave myself over to it. I wanted to turn my mind off completely.

“Who fucking hurt you, esclave?” Q demanded, striking me again.

Huh? I blinked, clawing my way back to conscious thought. Looking over my shoulder, I locked with his wild eyes. It took a moment for the question to sink in, but then I knew. I knew what he wanted.

For the first time, I let myself get angry. Terribly, ridiculously angry. At them. I snarled, “They did.”

Q narrowed his eyes, breathing hard. “Who caused you agony?” His hand stroked my burning skin before slapping me again—the hardest one yet.

Uncomfortableness flared, along with a rush of pleasure. I filled with reckless, needy energy. “They did.”

“Who stole you from me?”

“They did.”

“Who taught you to run from pain?”

“They did.”

His hand lit up my ass, followed by his fingers tracing my crack. He dipped his touch between my legs, moving tortuously slow.

I panted and writhed, caught in the sparkly web of anticipation. Touch me. Stroke me. A whisper of a caress then Q removed his hand, teasing me to the point of rage.

“Who will make you love pain again?”

I wanted to demand he touch me, but I gave him what he wanted. “You will.”

“Who will grant you freedom with pleasure?” His fingers dipped again, feathering over the delicate skin. This time he granted me one stroke—one mind-blowing stroke across my clit.