Je Suis a Toi (Monsters in the Dark Book 4) (20 page)

We both finished on a long groan, slamming back to earth.

As we came down from our sexual high, panting and laughing, tangled in each other’s arms like we always would, I revoked my oath to never hurt her again. I’d never be so fucking stupid to try and be something I wasn’t.

She’d reminded me not to be so stubborn. And I loved her so damn much.

As sweat dried on our skin and the small teeth marks I’d punctured in her skin scabbed over, Tess murmured, “You’re going to be a father, Q.”

Hugging her close, I kissed her so sweetly it bordered diabetic. But she accepted my questing tongue with a sweetness of her own. We’d sated our rage and could be gentle…for now. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”

“Only as long as you promise to stay with me and accept us once and for all.”

I nuzzled her brand. “I promise.”

It was the easiest promise I’d ever made. Acceptance. Funny how I’d run from it all my life and it was so easy to give in to it now.

I loved this woman to the galaxy and back.

I always would.

She was my wife.

My
esclave.

And soon, we would have a family.

EPILOGUE

SIXTEEN MONTHS LATER

THERE WERE MANY moments in my life that I treasured.

The day I was sold to Q.

The day I returned to Q.

The day I married Q.

Every event included my husband because I hadn’t truly lived until I met him. And now, I had one more.

Watching Q be a father to Abelino, Lino for short, was no greater achievement in my life. The French name meant bird and Q instilled in his son every lesson he’d learned so our child might never know firsthand the evil of the world.

Those first few weeks of not knowing the sex of our child had worn on me. I wasn’t joking when I said Q wasn’t ready for a daughter. When we finally had the ultrasound and confirmed it was a boy, I burst into tears.

Q’s eyes had glassed too, proving he wasn’t monstrous, after all.

My pregnancy had been easy, thanks to Q’s constant monitoring and support. He’d given into my demands for a rough session only a couple of times while I was pregnant and never when I got close to delivering. However, vanilla was a cursed word and never permitted in our lives again. I could live without using the swinging sex chair or the cross in our bedroom every week. I could concede not being whipped with a cat o’ nine tails until I wept for mercy every other day. 

Because I had something better.

I had a husband who still bit, bled, and abused me. Only he became even more creative. Parts of my body he hadn’t paid too much attention to suddenly became orgasm triggers for my overly sexed pregnant form. Toys that at first glance seemed innocent became sinfully naughty when used in the right way. He also became a master at torturing me with that blasted magic wand.

Not to mention, the gift I’d given him on our wedding night became more and more desired by both of us. Anal wasn’t something we’d done often but while I was pregnant, Q took his role as protector seriously. He was happier taking my ass than my pussy, saying he didn’t want to invade his son’s safe cocoon.

It made no sense. But Q was a man. And men had strange conclusions.

Our lives had fallen into a happy agreement we both loved. We still argued. Still snuggled. Still had a lot of sex and a couple of months after delivering Lino with no complications, I found Q in his study to deliver the news that I was healed from giving birth.

That day…

Wow.

That day had been one of the best in all my days of sexual experience. Q had stocked up on new supplies while I’d fumbled through my last trimester and he was only too happy to try them out now I was unencumbered with his child.

In a nine hour session, Q orgasmed four times and I doubled him with eight. Lino had to be given a bottle by Suzette that night rather than my breast because I could barely lift my head from the blissful subspace I swam in.

A month after Lino was born, we travelled to the man who’d done Q’s chest piece, Louis. There, Q had another bird added to his tattoo, only this one wrapped around his back, splaying its feathered wings over his shoulder blades. The ink was grey-blue for my eyes, and its claws held two ribbons floating behind it with my name and our son’s.

For so long, Q decorated his body with mementos of helping others. And now, he’d been able to ink his future rather than his past. Solidifying our family into his flesh forever.

Not wanting to be left out, I asked for a tattoo of a family of sparrows flying over my arm in honour of Q, the wings he’d given me, and the children we would hopefully conceive in the future.

Bringing my thoughts back to the present, I smiled, utterly content in the sleepy afternoon.

Lino played on his stomach in the French sunshine beside me, surrounded by Courage and the other puppies who were now all full grown. The dark blue jumpsuit Lino wore set off his chubby skin and dark wispy hair. For a baby, he was beautiful and I saw so much of Q in his pale innocent eyes. There was no doubt these Mercer men would break me by being so handsome and incredible.

Courage broke away from Lino, depositing a saliva drenched tennis ball by my feet. “Again? Really?”

The black French bulldog barked, running in a circle. I’d lost count how many times I’d thrown this ratty thing but Lino loved it. He squealed every time one of his guard dogs barreled past, chasing such a silly thing.

Wrenching my arm back, I threw as hard I could. Courage took off, leaping over Lino and his pack mates in his rush.

Q came out of the house, a brilliant smile cracking his lips. He’d been working this morning but now he would take the afternoon off to spend with us.

Noticing me lounging on the deck chair, he kissed my head before scooping up our son and blowing kisses on his neck.

The squirmy form of his baby swelled my heart until I glowed with gratefulness and overwhelming love.

Q met my gaze, hugging Lino close. His body language promised an evening of debauchery while his face promised me everything that he was. He’d worshipped me before with his whips and chains but it was nothing to how he treated me now. How he watched me as if I were the very reason his heart beat. How he touched Lino with reverence reserved for only the holiest of things.

He was in love with me.

I would never ever take that for granted.

Holding out my hand, I clutched Lino’s bare foot dangling from my husband’s embrace. Q wrapped his warm fingers around my wrist, squeezing just enough to remind me I belonged to him.

I would always belong to him.

Ducking, his lips met mine in a sensual kiss. My heart pattered and my nipples tingled for a session with my master rather than provide nutrition for our son.

Murmuring into our kiss, Q said, “Every hour makes me love you more. Every year, every minute, every moment we spend together. Tess…you do more than complete me. You heal me. And I’ll spend my entire life making sure you understand that.”

He’d said such words before. But they never lost the depth of meaning or sincerity.

My reply was a similar echo but in no way lacking the love I held for him. “Every hour I fall harder for you. Every year, every minute, every moment we live side by side is the best minute of my existence. I love you, Q, and I’ll dedicate every breath making sure you accept it.”

Our eyes locked as we kissed again, pulling apart as Lino wriggled for space.

Our devotion reaffirmed, Q chuckled, bouncing the boy in his arms. The sun glistened behind him making him seem outwardly, a god fallen to earth to rescue and marry me.

Sighing happily, I hugged myself as Q placed Lino on the blanket, sitting beside him on the grass to tickle and play.

This.

This was what made every hardship we’d been through worthwhile.

We had so much.

We were so damn lucky.

Our charities were well and truly established, and the women recuperating in the house across our estate found it easier to regroup with the rescued animals we brought home from the shelters that were too damaged to be rehomed.

Somehow, we’d become a zoo as well as a convalescent, but together, the broken survivors mended each other.

And in the middle of this fortress of healing, sat my king. The man who made it all possible.

He rarely went into the office anymore, preferring to do all his work from home so he never missed a moment of Lino’s upbringing. Just having him close to kiss or run a hand through his hair when I needed contact made all my dreams come true.

Suzette was a born nanny and loved keeping an eye on Lino if Q’s beast demanded a mid-afternoon solstice or early evening reunion. And her and Franco had announced they were getting married next summer.

Life was ridiculously perfect, and for the first time, I didn’t fear the future or suspect anything sinister might tear it all away.

We were happy.

We
deserved
to be happy.

We would remain happy for the rest of our lives.

Because I had my monster.

And he had me.

And together, we had everything.

THE END

FIRST OFFICIAL SNEAK PEEK INTO #SUPERSECRETSERIES
.

Cover, title, full blurb, and release information will be shared on my website and newsletter on the 3
rd
June 2016. Sign up to my Facebook Group
HERE
to join the cover reveal party with prizes and fun on the 3
rd
June.

A brand new Dark Romance Series starting July 2016. This new monstrous hero will rival even Jethro Hawk and Q Mercer.

Get ready for…

Elder Prest
.

Copyright Pepper Winters 2016

Unedited, subject to change.

No copying permitted.

(Full blurb to be released)

Tasmin was killed on her 18
th
 birthday.

She had everything planned out. A psychology degree, a mother who pushed her to greatness, and a future anyone would die for. But then her murderer saved her life, only to sell her into a totally different existence.

Elder went from penniless to stinking rich with one twist of fate. His lifetime of crime and shadows of thievery are behind him but no matter the power he now wields, it’s not enough. He has an agenda to fulfil and he won’t stop until it’s complete.

But then they meet.

A beaten slave and a richly dressed thief.

Money is what guided their separate fates. Money is what brought them together. And money is ultimately what destroys them.

She’s poor.

He’s rich.

Together…they are bankrupt.  

FREEDOM.

Such a simple word.

For those who had it, it carried very little importance. But for those who didn’t have it, it was the most precious, prized, and promised hope of all.

I supposed I was lucky to know what freedom felt like.

For eighteen years, I’d been free. Free to learn what I wanted, befriend who I liked, and flirt with boys who passed my rigorous criteria.

I was a simple girl with ideals and dreams, encouraged by society to believe nothing could hurt me, that I should strive for an excellent career, and no one could stop me. Rules would keep me safe, police would keep the monsters away, and I could remain innocent and naïve to the darkness of the world.

Freedom.

I had it.

But then I lost it.

Until the day he entered my cage.

Him with the black eyes and blacker soul.

The man who challenged my owner.

And set my imprisonment on an entirely different path.