I’d never get used to the need I had for her, or the joy at knowing she could withstand my unconventional needs. My fingertips ached to stroke her flawless skin; my cock throbbed at the thought of her touching me. I wanted her hot slick mouth between my legs.
I clenched my jaw. “You have no thought for my sanity do you, esclave? J'ai tellement envie d’être à l’intérieur de toi.” I need to be inside you so fucking bad.
Her head whipped around, blue eyes blazing with sudden lust. Her nipples hardened beneath the cotton, reacting to the desire in my voice, perfectly programmed to me.
Her mouth parted, but she didn’t speak.
I didn’t move. If I did, I’d end up stripping her and forcing her to sink down on my straining erection. Looking away, I muttered, “Next time I touch you, you won’t freeze up on me. I’ll guarantee it.” I’d guarantee it because I’d make her so fucking wet she’d pant and gasp and beg for me to fill her. I’d bind her and stroke her and worship her in every way I knew how.
A second ticked past before she cleared her throat. The thick tension simmering between us sat heavy and unresolved. Her lips twisted, asking, “So, how big is this island?”
I chuckled as she raised her eyebrow in a lewd way, deliberately making an ass out of herself. The power she had over me was crushing. How could she make me laugh when all I wanted to do was shake her and tumble all her sadness away? How could she make me care so fucking much even while pissing me off?
Her gaze locked with mine, darkening with desire. I lashed out, grabbing her hand, giving her a hard smile. Ever so slowly, never taking my eyes from hers, I pinched her forefinger and slid it into my mouth. Inch by inch, I sucked, tasting her, cursing the fucking need in my blood.
Her eyes snapped closed, shuddering as I swirled my tongue around her finger. I intoxicated myself on her subtle feminine taste. A hint of orange remained from the fruit she had for breakfast on the plane.
Just as slowly, I withdrew her digit from my mouth, murmuring, “Big enough.” I smiled, but there wasn’t anything jovial in my face. I transmitted a warning—a message that the moment I had her alone, I was taking her. The monstrous craving in my blood was a ticking time-bomb ready to explode at any moment.
Awareness and intensity fogged the interior. I couldn’t breathe without dragging her into my lungs. I couldn’t think without her being centre place in my mind.
My eyes fell to the bandage on her neck—the tiny piece of protection hiding the brand from others eyes. I wanted people to know she was mine now, not when it was healed. I needed to see it, so the urge to bite and consume would stay dormant.
I released Tess’s hand. Franco took another corner at hyper speed, and we jerked to a stop at our destination. Thank God we were there because another few minutes in the limo and I would’ve locked the doors and not cared if violent rocking gave us away.
Franco jumped out, coming to open the door for Tess. Bright island sunshine beamed into the shady car no longer inhibited by the tinted windows. The heat scorched my skin, making me wish I’d worn something cooler. Coming here had been impulsive. After Tess’s nightmare, all I wanted to do was run. Run far away from evil, madness, and responsibilities.
I wanted to be happy, but I couldn’t snap out of my mood. It wasn’t just Brax being mentioned but a combination of things. And just like Tess wouldn’t share things with me, I couldn’t share my worries with her.
She’s about to become mine for eternity. She loved me. So why did I sense something awful coming?
I hadn’t been to Volière in years. The last time was when my house was a convalescent home to five saved slaves all of who were mentally destroyed. I did what I could—hired what therapists were available but then had to leave. Hearing their screams down the corridors or their sobbing while trying to work proved too similar to listening to my father torture his harem in the east wing when I was a boy. I’d been a fucking pussy and run to Volière where I stayed until they were well enough to return home.
“Looking forward to seeing paradise?” Franco asked Tess. His muscular form was crisp and professional in his black suit and no doubt sweating his fucking balls off. I lost sight of them as they walked around the back of the car. The familiar burn of rage of another man touching the most precious thing in my life reminded me Tess might have issues to work through, but so did I. I trusted Franco with my life. I had no reason to be jealous. Try telling that to your fists.
Quickly exciting the car, I glowered at Franco until he dropped Tess’s hand. He grinned. “Should I wait here, boss? Or do I get a ticket to utopia, too?”
“You’re coming.” Never again would I go without a man with reflexes like Franco’s and a license to carry concealed weapons. Frederick, my business partner and the man I left in charge, was right. On our daily phone calls discussing property projections and what the future meant for Moineau Holdings, I knew I’d painted a bull’s-eye on my back. More would come for me, and I had no intention of being unprepared.
A loud bang sounded from a piece of rigging along the pier. Such an everyday innocent noise but Tess fucking leapt like a gazelle. Her curls flurried as her head turned to the noise; her eyes round and terrified.
Goddammit.
I knew she struggled with loud noises or surprises. I watched her jump and freeze if Suzette dropped something in the kitchen or Franco slammed the front door too loudly.
“Tout va bien, personne ne peut te faire de mal ici” It’s okay. Nothing can hurt you here. I stalked toward her, jerking her close. Whispering in her ear, I said, “Stop letting it have power over you.”
She pulled away, a slight flush on her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m just tired. My reactions are a little jumpy.” She smiled, cupping my cheek. “Truly. I’m fine.” Her eyes dropped, hiding her lies.
Lies had a scent. The stench of decay and terror. I hated when she told untruths—she undermined me every time.
“Tess, what did I—”
“Bloody hell, I’m hot,” Franco said loudly. I looked up to snarl at him for interrupting, but his eyes pierced mine. They blatantly said ‘you’re in public with a lot of people milling around. Let’s get on the fucking plane where we’re safer.’
As much as I wanted to brush off his warning, he was right.
Swallowing my frustration, I let the tension between Tess and I disperse. Stepping backward, I nonchalantly looked around. Everyone was a suspect. It was time to get somewhere less populated. Just in case.
“Wish I’d packed a pair of shorts,” Franco grumbled. “I’m bloody steaming in this suit.”
Tess chuckled. “I agree. Q dragged me out of bed so fast this morning, I have no idea what I packed. I’m hating these jeans with a passion. I’d give anything for a skirt.”
My mind instantly thought of how convenient a skirt would be. A skirt would let me touch her, finger her, all while she remained hidden and dressed. It seemed I couldn’t think about Tess without getting fucking hard. The incessant need to fill her built behind my eyes. The churning in my gut filled with darkness as my ears roared needing to hear her cries. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting her—all of her—her blood, her tears, her desires.
But then the need rushed to another part of my body.
My heart throbbed with tenderness plaiting with the ugliness of my soul. I wanted her symphony of screams, but not as much as I wanted the glittering sounds of her laughter. My body filled with terrifying softness and warmth.