Tears of Tess

The moment she stumbled across the threshold, all those dark needs roared and raged inside. I wanted to throw myself down the stairs and take her then and there. I f**king wanted, wanted, wanted.

She was different.

She wasn’t broken.

For the first time, a slave came to me spitting and alive. Intelligence blazed in her eyes and my c**k stirred, unable to be controlled. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop, and hated her almost as much as I hated myself.

I finally met a woman with fire and passion matching my own, and all I wanted to do was break her. I wanted her to be mine in every way humanly possible.

I was a sick, sick bastard and would go to hell for what I fantasized.

After twelve years of battling the beast, it sprang from its cage and refused to go back. The lifetime of urges couldn’t be refused. They overtook, held me hostage, and I fell into the role of master so effortlessly, as if it was the true me. The real me. The monster.

She was mine.

* * * * *

*Present*

She shook her head, looking into my black soul with dove-grey eyes. “Nous sommes les uns des autres.” We are each other’s.

Two emotions fought for space in my chest. The beast lurched forward, ready to take her up on the offer to debase and hurt, while the other wanted to gather her gently and lavish every penny I had.

After everything I did. After what Lefebvre did… my heart raced. That f**king cock-sucking bastard. Black anger gathered again at the thought of him raping her. I wanted to dig up his unmarked grave and dismember him piece by piece. A single gunshot was too good for that ass**le.

But Tess survived. She forged stronger and shone brighter. She never broke.

I pressed against her again, hissing between my teeth at the burn in my cock. I wanted to f**k her so bad, but I needed to tame other urges, too.

“Nous sommes les uns des autres,” I repeated, kissing her deeply. Her soft groan sent my sanity spiralling out of control. How did I manage to send her away? Kick her from my room after she let me whip her to the point of drawing blood? I’d been a bloody saint with willpower of an angel.

I sacrificed everything, because I refused to break such a perfect woman. A woman who pranced into my life with spark and fire, threatening to burn my very existence to the ground.

“I can’t believe you came back,” I murmured, heart galloping, still unable to believe the blood oath we made. I smeared residual crimson on her throat, whispering fingers across her collarbone.

My eyes dropped to the tattoo on her wrist. Holy f**k, what was she trying to do to me? She spoke to the darkness inside, and despite her fear, stood up to me. I wanted to pummel her into the ground to make her obey, but her rebellion was also my undoing.

I’d never be free of her.

Tess Snow.

Tess esclave.

Mine.

All mine.

I can’t wait any longer. She came back on her own terms. It’s my turn now.

I stood, shoving my c**k into my trousers, wincing at how f**king hard it was. Damn woman cast a spell on me. Tess blinked, watching with those intoxicating Bambi eyes, begging me to f**k and hurt her.

I groaned. If I did this, there would be no going back. She would become everything I needed. I had to trust in her vow. The promise she would be strong enough. I hoped to God she was right because I gave up fighting.

The monster roared, beating his chest, salivating at the thought of what was to come.

I was done and she was mine, in every sense.

“Come.” I grabbed her tattooed wrist, jerking her from the library. Stalking through the foyer, her little pants sent lust into a realm off insanity. Fuck, I needed her. To scream and writhe and bleed.

What sort of man needed to make a woman bleed? Not a sane one. I’m infected. Poisoned. Destined for hell.

I slammed my fist against the hidden door beneath the stairs, taking violence out on the wood panel.

Tess flinched, but didn’t move away.

I raised an eyebrow as the door opened, giving her one last opportunity to admit she made a huge mistake. Not that it would make any difference. I wasn’t letting her go again. Willing slave or not. The beast preferred unwilling, because I was sick. So sick.

“Je suis à toi,” she panted.

I gritted my teeth. Fuck, yes, she was mine. No one else’s. She was lucky I didn’t hang and quarter the stupid boy she went home to. Idiot. Sleeping beside her every night—touching her. Couldn’t he see the unique treasure he had? My chest swelled with pride. Tess left him for me. She was too much for a boy. She needed a man with a demon inside.

I didn’t think I’d ever find a female beast with contorted desires like mine.

But she found me.

My back rippled with tension as I dragged her down the stairs. The lights clicked on automatically, illuminating the dark teak bar, pool table, and further a music recording studio, and sauna.

Tess didn’t say a word as her eyes fell on the pool table, chest pumping. Goddammit, I loved touching her that night. I’d been so ready to rape her, to try and get rid of the sickness inside in one swoop, but she fought too much, made me too hot. I wanted the agony of dragging out the suspense. I wanted to torture myself with the insanely painful urge to fill her with my cock.

I was rather proud of my strength that night. If I had raped her—who knows if she could’ve handled everything else I did to her.

Tess bumped into me, unable to tear her eyes off the table. I wrapped tight, imprisoning arms around her, growling. “Remember my fingers inside you, esclave? Remember how wet you were? Even then, your body knew you belonged to me.”

She shivered, tight and tense, but malleable and feminine at the same time. “Are you going to finish what you started that night? Take me over the pool table?” A pink tongue darted between her lips, tempting me beyond belief.

Fuck, I could barely stand my c**k ached so hard.

“No. I have another idea.”

She sucked in a breath, pulse strumming in her wrist where I held.

Rational thoughts smashed the horny beast to the side. I panicked. How the hell would this happen? How could I hurt her and then…not? Would the insane urge to beat the shit out of her ever leave? I’ll constantly have to watch what I do, how hard I do it. I could never resort to being my father. Never.

I spun her, trapping her against my chest, rubbing my c**k on her belly. “Your skin is too flawless. I want to scar it.” I squeezed my eyes closed. I sounded like a sick f**k, but shit, the thought of marking her permanently did insane things to me.