Q threw the whip at my feet, cradling me in his arms. “It’s okay… stop crying.” His linen suit rasped against my tender back as he soothed. The throbbing heat kept time with heartbeats. I sucked heavy lungful’s of air. Is it over? “You’re f**king with my mind,” I breathed through tears.

Q’s hand headed down my belly, inching lower until he cupped me. “No, I’m f**king for your mind. I told you, I want to own you—body, heart, everything.”

I moaned as he circled my clit, nibbling my ear. “Tell me. Did you like being whipped?” He thrust a finger inside with no warning, arms banding tighter as I bucked in surprise. “Tell me the truth.”

I couldn’t think straight; I mumbled, “I didn’t like it, but I liked giving you what you need. It made me wet knowing you enjoyed it.”

“You think you didn’t enjoy it… but your body bent to the whip. Listen to what it’s telling you. Let it be your master.” Q sucked in a breath, finger pulsing inside before withdrawing. He brought his hand to my mouth. “You’re wet. So wet. Suck my finger, Tess.”

I opened, welcoming. My nose was stuffy from crying and I couldn’t get enough breath, but his taste of citrus mixed with me and the pain he caused branded with lust.

I rocked into his erection, silently pleading.

He stepped away, leaving me hanging like the captive I was. Q was wrong when he said being owned by him wasn’t romantic or sexy or fun. I’d never felt this way. This uninhibited. This free.

The world went black as Q fixed a blindfold over my eyes, tying it securely. Fingers grazed my neck, sending goosebumps and shivers skimming over my nakedness. I grew too hot thanks to the fire and perspiration dotted my upper lip.

“I’m going to take control of you now, Tess.”

I nodded erratically, heart beating wildly out of control.

Q grabbed my breast with one hand. Something sharp pinched on my nipple. I wished I could see what it was. Cupping my other breast, the weight of whatever he clamped dangled with an uncomfortable sensation.

Q murmured, “J'adore tes seins.” I love your tits.

The same pinching weight attached to my other nipple, sending shooting stars of need through an invisible link to my core.

I pulsed in time to blood throbbing in my ni**les and whip marks. I whimpered as pain blossomed as more blood rushed.

Q grabbed the back of my neck, smothering my mouth with his. His tongue wrangled mine into yielding, our breaths mingled.

I moaned, becoming drunk on the taste of him.

Breathing hard, he stopped kissing me, and something soft and leathery danced along my stomach. I clenched, trying to figure out what it was. I hated the blindfold—the lack of eyesight. It made everything so much more aware, anxious, and sensitive.

Q sucked in a breath. “Every welt I give you makes me so f**king hard.”

I groaned as leather bit into my stomach, right on my pubis. I tried to double over but restraints kept me arched—available for whatever torture he planned.

“You want to know how dark I’ll go? I want blood. I want you sobbing at my feet. I want you in f**king tatters. Does that scare you?”

Another strike, this time just below my br**sts. My rib injury flared with pain, and the nipple clamps jiggled as I twisted, trying to run. I couldn’t deny the tension of being completely at his mercy made my pu**y throb, but I couldn’t understand why. Why did being a submissive turn me on? Why did inflicting pain turn Q on?

My voice was barely audible. “Yes, it scares me. Deliciously terrifies.” My honesty shocked both of us. Breathing hard, I asked, “Why do you want to hurt me, maître?”

Q lashed out, slapping my cheek with a gentle palm. It didn’t hurt, but tears oozed beneath my blind fold. “I revoke your permission to speak.”

I hung my head, chastised. Guess, I wouldn’t know.

Q paced in a circle around me, dragging the flogger over my skin. “It’s not about hurting you, sweet Tess. It’s about branding you. Your skin is pure as snow, and I get to mark it.” He flogged my ass again. It caught a whip mark and blazed with agony. “It’s the wrongness, the rightness, I need your pain.” He whispered in my ear, “I’m invincible when I hurt you.”

Images of dark terror filled me. Every muscle in my body screamed to run. The safe word danced on my tongue. I’m stronger than this. I invited this. I won’t say it… not yet.

Q hit me particularly hard. It made the bee sting seem like a giant wasp, but I didn’t make a sound.

He groaned, tracing a finger over the new injury. “So f**king perfect.”

I breathed shallowly, wanting to see. Needing to see.

“You deserve a reward, Tess,” he said it so sweetly, as if I was a good girl and earned a lollipop. But his domination made me very aware I wouldn’t be getting an ice-cream.

The pain once again morphed to tender hooks of passion, and I welcomed the burn. Welcomed the marks Q branded.

He ripped the blindfold off, kissing me, holding my hair so I couldn’t move away as he f**ked my mouth with a tongue that wouldn’t let me breathe.

I gasped and choked, but the moment he left, I wanted more. I wanted to die with him kissing me.

With glinting pale eyes, Q folded to his knees in front of me. “Put your legs over my shoulders,” he demanded.

I blinked. “My legs on your shoulders?” I flushed with embarrassment at the thought of him so close to my pu**y—spread and exposed. I was so wet it trickled down my thigh. I shook my head, unable to be so vulnerable.

Q reached and slapped my ass. His hand connected with whip marks; I yelped.

“Do as I command, Tess.” He stressed my name and it did exactly as he wanted. It reminded he owned me, therefore I had no choice.

Hesitantly, I cocked one leg, placing it on his shoulder. His eyes dropped to my centre, face darkening with need. Self-consciousness painted my cheeks. When my other leg stayed firmly planted on the ground, he glared. “You have two legs. Put them on my shoulders.” His voice rasped, chest working hard.

His passion granted a burst of feminine courage. Jumping, I shifted my weight to the cuffs and I straddled Q’s shoulders—suspended, completely at his mercy. Arms came up to hold my ass, biceps clenching. He didn’t tear his gaze away from my pu**y. “You’re so f**king beautiful.” He kissed my inner thigh in a fleeting move, breath hot. “Here’s your reward for letting me hurt you.” His voice deepened to brimstone and my head snapped back as his mouth latched onto my clit.