Tears of Tess

Silence fell, and I didn’t want to speak, move, or bring any attention to myself. Q spoke as if I were more than just a sex toy or belonging. He allowed me to see the passion in his heart for a company I knew nothing about. He hinted at a wealth I couldn’t comprehend, and a lifetime of servitude to a company he ran from a teenager.

Q bristled with anger, mentioning his father. Curiosity burned, and I wished I knew what happened. Did his father beat him?

Blinking away memories, he waved a hand at the folder. “Read it. I’d like to know your thoughts on this particular acquisition.”

“What?” I couldn’t stop my incredulous tone. I stared at the folder as if it stole my slave status and flung me into an employee. I didn’t want to be Q’s employee, I wanted him equally. Then answer him… he’s asking you as a woman—he’s seeing you.

Heart racing, I looked at the page, tracing the sparrow logo with a shaking finger.

Q breathed hard, rubbing a temple. “I’m asking what you think, esclave. You studied property feasibilities at university, didn’t you? Unless you lied about that, too?”

His dig at lying about my name irked. I’m ready to tell you. Just ask.

Temper filled me, slapping away my nerves. Q wanted my opinion, yet wasn’t prepared to give me rights as a human. My eyes flashed. “You’re asking me? The slave you’ll never let leave the house, or use a phone, or go on the internet. The girl you accepted as a bribe.” Horror throttled and I finally knew what I’d been a bribe for.

My lips curled as I looked back at the folder. “I was a bribe for a building contract, wasn’t I?” I frantically flicked through the pages, expecting it to give answers. “The Russian gave me to you for something illegal.” My tone blazed, self-righteous. “What did you agree to do?”

I couldn’t think straight—I’d been nothing but a business transaction, yet Q shot the Russian for hurting me. Where did his loyalties lie? To me—his esclave— or the people who made him a fortune?

Q straightened, withdrawing the connection between us. “That is none of your business. I’m asking about this merger. Not another.”

I shook my head, unable to let it go. I finally had one answer, and the rest started falling into place. “Is that why you have other girls? You accept women as bribes to allow buildings and things you shouldn’t dabble in gain approval?” I breathed hard; it all made sense. “What happened to the other girls?” My eyes flew to the aviary, hidden behind foliage. “Why is it just me in this house? Will you throw me away when you tire of me? Or wait till a better replacement comes along?”

Q glared, sparking with temper.

My hands curled, and I wanted to slap him. “Tell me the truth! What will happen to me?” The fear of the future crippled, turning my lungs into whistling, useless things. I thought if Q came to care for me, he’d keep me, and I’d never have to re-enter the world.

But, once again, he spun a lie. I’d never be able to stay here permanently, as more girls would arrive. More contracts would be signed. Some other slave would spread her legs for Q to hit and f**k and rule.

Blackness tinged my vision as panic rushed. If I used up my welcome, I would be cast out, or killed, or sold to another.

Q sat, deathly still, watching me break apart. He pinched the brow of his nose, trying to find relief from the headache. “You have the wrong idea, esclave, and I’m not in the mood to set you straight.”

My God, I was so happy I never told him my name. It would be worthless to him. He didn’t care. I bet he called all his bribes esclave, because he didn’t keep them long enough to learn their true personalities.

My heart broke. I stood, holding out my hand. “I want my bracelet back. I want you to let me go.”

Q chuckled, wincing. “The bracelet is mine. Just like you are mine. I thought you’d accepted that.”

“Never. You think I lie. Everything about you lies. I don’t want a master who isn’t truthful. I deserve better.” The urge to hurt made me yell. “I want a master who buys me! Not accepts me because he has no other choice.”

Eyes flashed dangerously; he growled, “Take that back or I’ll make your captivity long and full of hardship.”

I wanted to laugh, or cry, or both. Somehow, the threat sounded like a lie. If he meant it, surely he would’ve done untold terribleness by now. For two weeks, he didn’t touch me, while I begged in my dreams for him to tie me up. The songs he played about living with demons and uncontrollable urges were bullshit.

He was a cold-hearted man who teased and cajoled, showing glimpses of the woman I could become, before slapping me down to nothingness.

I was done.

Q tensed his jaw, standing in one fluid move. He slapped me so hard, my neck snapped back. Tears gushed as I cupped my burning cheek. Fear chased away my fight and I cowered.

Q’s face raged with anguish and undeniable hunger. He rubbed his palm, smiling darkly. “You can’t speak that way and not be punished, esclave.” Grabbing the back of my neck, he jerked me forward. A tongue captured salty tears. “First sensible thing I’ve seen you do.” His accent was low, exotic, turning his praise into dark and sensual.

Despite my pain and anger, his voice wrapped around my heart. I struggled with visions of fighting harder, pushing him to the floor, straddling, begging him to deliver on whatever sinful promise he hinted.

But my fear of abandonment ruled stronger. I bowed my head. “And what is that?”

Q let me go. “Recognise me. See me. I am your master.”

My throat closed, fighting with injustice. He was my master, but for how long? I don’t have a choice in the length of my captivity. I never did. I never would.

He would never see me as Tess. As a girl. A woman who refused to bow to anyone. A woman who was more than just a f**king bribe.

I glared. “See me. I am not yours to torment.”

Our eyes clashed, locking with a battle of wills. How many of these nonverbal fights must we have? My breathing came hard as Q blazed with black desire. The air crackled with monstrous urges; even the birds shut up.

My body warmed, heated, melted. No, do not betray me. I couldn’t stop slickness building between my legs, or fantasies darting in my twisted mind.

It had been too long since my last orgasm. I’d saved myself for Q, now I never wanted him to visit me again.