Quintessentially Q

He didn’t move, eyeing me as if I were a messy business merger that refused to go his way.

“Did you stop to think for a moment why I asked the captain for privacy?” Bowing his head, he kissed the concealed bite he gave me earlier. “It’s because I know the pain you’re in. I’m just as tortured. If I didn’t f**k you before we got to Paris, we would both end up in national news for public indecency. I’m done, too, Tess.”

He ran his nose up my neck, heading toward my ear. I shivered when he nipped at my lobe. “Arrêter de me supplier, je vais te baiser” Stop begging, I’m going to f**k you.

It wasn’t Q who lost it this time. It was me.

I launched into his arms, climbing him, scratching in urgency. My lips descended on his, and for the first and probably only time, I initiated sex between us. And for one precious moment, he let me take from him.

The moment my tongue entered his mouth, he snapped.

My stomach rolled, and I found myself flat on my back on the helicopter’s carpeted floor. Q cradled my head so I didn’t knock myself out, and somehow he kept the brunt of sprawling backward to a minimum. But that was as far as his chivalry went.

The moment he had me beneath him, he kissed me like a monster possessed. His tongue speared my lips and stole every last drop of oxygen in my body. My eyes slammed closed, and I clawed at his immaculate suit.

I need this off. I need his skin.

Every part of me boiled; desperation made me feral. I grabbed his tie, pulling him so hard against me, my br**sts bruised and my neck, already tender from strangulation, spasmed with pain.

Q bit my lip, not drawing blood, but in a warning to let him go. He reared back on his elbows, digging his h*ps harder into mine. “You’re determined to make me hurt you. I’m trying so f**king hard, but you don’t seem to care. You’re reckless with your life, esclave, so why should I hold myself back?”

My blood thrilled, summoning every dark recess to gush with want. “If by hurting me I get to possess you in return, then yes, I’m reckless, but only because I need you like I need air.”

“You need this?” His eyes glinted as he rolled his h*ps against my pinned legs. The tight skirt held me hostage when all I wanted to do was open my thighs and welcome him to take.

I wished Q had a pair of silver scissors to cut me free, tear off my fanciful knickers, and f**k me like the slave I wanted to be for him.

“How much do you need to be f**ked, Tess?” His head lowered to graze along my cheek, breathing me in. “How crazy does it make you, thinking about my c**k deep inside, pounding you, stretching you?”

My complete education flew out of my mind. Speech was an impossibility as images of Q slamming into me berated my thoughts.

I cried out as he shifted and caught my barely covered nipple in his teeth. I bowed as his hot mouth closed over the highly sensitive nub, and my pu**y squeezed.

“I think you need me badly. I think I need to show you how good my c**k can feel.”

“Please. God, yes. Show me. Now.”

He collapsed on top of me, lips crushing mine. I opened my jaw wide to submit to his all-demanding kiss. Q panted, running his hands all over my body. His five o’clock shadow acted like match paper to my spark. We detonated. Had the helicopter plummeted to earth, we wouldn’t have noticed. We were wrapped up, consumed by each other.

Q broke the kiss, levering himself off me.

Breathing ragged, he ordered, “Get on all fours.”

When I didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed my h*ps and flipped me over, hoisting my ass up until I rested on my hands and knees.

The second I was steady, urgent fingers pushed my tight skirt up and up, forcing it higher until the cute slit on the side split with a loud crack. “I want to rip this into shreds, but I can’t have you showing the world what’s mine.” Q gave a final push and the skirt gathered on my hips.

The moment my ass was exposed, he spanked me hard, sending jolts of pain radiating through my body, but I existed on a painful plateau already, and his palm print bloomed into deliciousness.

My eyes glossed even as I pushed backward, imploring Q to strike again.

Vibrating with lust, he leaned closer and licked my smarting ass cheek, soothing away the sweet pain.

With a growl, he plucked the small G-string with his fingertips and pulled. The material tightened around my pu**y, pinching my clit, making me burn. Then with a jerk of his head, Q sliced through the lace with his teeth and the G-string existed no more.

He brought the fabric to his nose and inhaled deep. “Fuck me, you smell incroyable.” With a dark glint in his eye, he balled the scrap of lingerie and shoved it in his pocket. He caught me watching over my shoulder and said, “Now I’ll always have you close, esclave.”

My cheeks flared, but my heart fluttered just the same. Q wanted a part of me on him at all times. I wanted the same thing. I wanted to wear his scent. To wrap myself up in everything Q.

Q cocked his head and reached for his fly. Never dropping eye contact, he undid his belt buckle and slid it slowly from the waistband.

I started to shake. My fingernails clawed into the carpet, expecting another round of belt abuse. It’d only been four days since Q welcomed me home with the aid of his belt and some ice-cold champagne.

Q bared his teeth, eyes flashing with irritation. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m not such a bastard to hit you on top of bruises that are barely healed.” Deliberately he tossed the leather to the side.

I didn’t relax, and didn’t know if I suffered regret or relief at his decency.

“I’m going to punish you in other ways. Face away.” He motioned for me to look down and I unwillingly dropped my head.

Not seeing him was worse to my oversensitive body. Without knowing what he was doing, my imagination ran overtime.

The sound of a zipper coming undone sounded loud, even over the whirr of rotor blades. Q’s hot, hard flesh connected with the back of my thighs as he pressed against me and jerked down his boxer-briefs in one swipe.

I moaned, rocking toward him. I thought his thighs were hot, but they were Antarctica compared to the inferno of his cock. It hung heavy and hard between my open thighs, teasing me to the point of mania.

He groaned, fisting his erection, dragging the head through my folds. “Fuck. Will I ever get enough of you?” As he spoke, he captured my cl*t with his thumb and forefinger.

I jerked and liquefied. My pu**y rejoiced at finally having stimulation. Normally I’d need more than a simple touch, but this time just the thought of his hand on me summoned the orgasm that lived behind my eyes, in my blood, and deep in my core.

“Q…yes, Q.”

He inserted the tip of his finger inside me before pulling back and replacing it with the thick head of his cock.

The heavenly bliss of being entered, expanded and stretched, sent my heartbeat whizzing. My head was too heavy to hold up, and I let it dangle, giving in to the overwhelming exquisite anticipation of Q f**king me.

He sank in another centimetre, his thighs rigid against mine. Another groan wrenched from his chest. “How is it I’m about to f**king come when I exploded in your mouth an hour ago?”

I bit my lip at the ragged wonderment in his tone. He wasn’t asking me the question. It was rhetorical. He truly didn’t understand the compulsion between us—I knew I didn’t. There weren’t words or rationality to explain our bond.

Happiness scorched through me like a sunrise. Me, Tess Snow, a woman from no worth or recognition, had a power over a sadistic legend like Q. And f**k, that turned me on.

Q spanked me again, slicing his large hand right across my ass. The previous belt marks awoke, tingling, searching for relief. Then he caressed me, leeching the heat away.

He repeated. Spank. Caress. Until my head swam and my pu**y contracted around the small fraction of c**k he let me have.

“Q!” I moaned. “Please. No more. I need you so much.”

His fingers dipped between my legs. I cried out as he smeared wetness around my clit.

“Shit.” Q’s muffled curse caused sparklers and fireworks to fizz in my blood.

I pushed back, arching my spine. My lips parted; I didn’t recognise the girl panting as if she’d run a marathon. All I cared about was coming.

“Merde, esclave, stop. For f**k’s sake, you’re ruining me.” Even with the ferocity of Q’s anger, I thrilled with the knowledge I was winning in some small measure—the former slave training the master. If I’d been a poet, I would’ve written how serendipitous it all was. How fate entwined and cursed us both.

Q gripped my hips, propping me higher. Pulling out, the heat of his erection nudged my ass; I jolted with urgency.

Sitting higher on his knees, Q muttered, “This is going to be fast and hard, and I don’t want you to say a word, do you hear me?”

I nodded, breathless already. “I’ll do anything you want, as long as you let me come.”

“You can come, but only when I say.” His nails imprinted crescent moons into my skin, digging deep. “But if you come before, I’ll punish you worse. I won’t feel regret or remorse. I’ll find a way to punish you that doesn’t make me suffer, too.”