“This is what has to happen, esclave. Do I need to tie you down to make it come true?”
My lips curled. “That sounds more like the man I married.”
He refused to smile in return, his eyes crackling with lust. “I’m going to worship you. I’m not going to hurt you or drag you into pain. But not tonight.”
My insides turned to liquid at the thought of connection and sex. I wanted him. Especially now he’d added an entirely new element to our marriage. “Why not tonight?” I waved at the empty house, encompassing the canine witnesses by the fire. “We have the space to ourselves.” Minus a few doggy voyeurs.
Slipping into the monstrous master I knew, he growled, “Because right now, I have a much better idea. If I’m going to do this. If I’m going to shackle the beast inside and treat you the way you’ve always meant to be treated, then I need one more night. I need to fuck you, Tess. I need it raw with no limits. Let me take that from you and I’ll give you everything else I can in return.”
I shivered. “You don’t have to convince me. I want what you do. We don’t have to stop—”
His hand smashed over my lips. “Yes, we do. I’m being punished for the way I treat you. It’s only right. What sort of fucking parent would I be if our baby was born to a mother with bruises? What sort of father would I be if I dreamed of making you bleed? I have to get rid of that part of me. It’s not right. It’s not human. And I need to be human to deserve you. To deserve a child with you.”
His voice plaited with rage and despair.
There was no talking him out of such crazy rationale. There was no right and wrong. No law or rules that said we couldn’t indulge in what we wanted and still have a family. Q was the most protective man; he would be the best father imaginable. What we did together behind closed doors was no one else’s business, including any children we might have.
To imagine him taking that away from me—forbidding any more violent lust was blasphemous.
If he weren’t already drunk, I would’ve made him so. If he went through with this idiotic idea, I wanted him to lose all control tonight. I wanted to be completely and utterly at his mercy with no thoughts between us.
Nothing but touch and trembles.
Pressing on my breastbone, Q walked me backward to the desk. Never removing his fingers, he shoved me hard, gritting his teeth as I splayed over the desk. Behind me sat an untouched plate of strawberry jam and fresh scones that a maid had brought in for dessert.
I hadn’t touched it.
Q noticed the edible confectionary instantly. “Ever heard the expression ‘you shouldn’t play with your food?’” His hand shot over my head, his fingers digging into the red sugar preserve. Never breaking eye contact, he brought the sweetness to my cheek.
Smearing it on my overheated skin, he smiled. “We’re about to break that rule.”
Uncertainty and excitement bubbled in my blood. I’d won this fight, and Q had finally talked to me. But I hadn’t won at all because if he went through with this, then he would take away a part of him that I was madly in love with.
Already, I mourned our violent affair, and he hadn’t even muzzled himself yet.
Q hovered above me, his body wound tight and bristling with lust. His pale eyes spoke of nothing but the urge to dominate and fuck.
With infinitesimal slowness, he inserted the sticky strawberry jam on his finger into my mouth. His wedding ring glinted in the low light, hinting at the inked tattoo beneath the gold.
I moaned as his finger hooked over my tongue, yanking my mouth open before crashing his lips over mine and kissing me deep and wet and true.
Breaking our connection, his tongue licked my cheek, taking the rest of the jam before kissing me again with sugary seduction.
I shuddered against him, life fading around us, as he became my sun and gravity.
My throat ached as his fingers dropped to strangle me. His large hand bordered delicate and crushing as the tiny urge to scratch and fight waged with submitting and begging for more.
Q fought himself on a minutely basis. For him to finally admit he wanted a family proved he was capable of so much more than he believed.
A child would weaken and empower him. A son would keep him fighting and possessive for years. And a daughter…a daughter might just ruin him with his desire to keep her safe.
But he was willing to drive himself mad because the urge inside overpowered his reason. It made me love him all the more. Our relationship had started on a quicksand foundation, slowly growing firmer as we grew to trust each other and accept what we needed. Now that foundation was stone and granite. He could have me like this and be a good father.
I just had to show him that. Just like I’d taught him so many things in our time together.
“Come.” Q let my throat go, breaking the kiss and pulling me from the desk.
I swallowed around the slight bruising of my larynx, blinking back swirling need. “Where are we—”
“No questions.” His face darkened as he escorted me from the library.
With our hands interlocked, he guided me down the corridor to the indoor swimming pool.
We used this place often. I loved to exercise in the mornings and indulge in a few laps before breakfast. Q preferred to work out at night, removing the stress of the day and any other problems in his mind before obliterating the rest of his concerns by making love to me.
He doesn’t believe what we do is making love.
Silly, silly man.
It was. Through and through.