Je Suis À Toi

  The lie percolated in my chest when what I really wanted to say was you’re not safe with me. Not right now.

  Tess dropped her voice. “Too bad, maître. I’ve already reserved the pent-house at the Ritz. I’ll be there all night. It’s your call if you want to join me. Either way, I’m not coming home.”

  Ferocity filtered into my muscles, shooting me upward from my desk chair. “Esclave, don’t you dare threaten—”

  The phone call cut off, hanging dead in my hand.

  Fuck!

  Everything inside wanted to teach her a goddamn lesson. Remind her that she couldn’t get away with such rebellion. But in order to punish her, I had to hurt her, and I wouldn’t do that. Not anymore.

  Resentment billowed. I wanted to be furious at Tess, but mainly, I directed it at myself. Every day of my existence, I prided myself on having ultimate control over my darkness and fucked-up desires. However, Tess had shredded my restraint, given me freedom to be who I truly was, and then made me fall in love knowing she loved me back.

  She’d given me so much.

  And I was the one who’d changed the rules between us. I was the one who’d hurt her by pulling away. And I didn’t know how to fix it.

  I wanted her to carry our future. I wanted to keep her safe like I’d always done. Was that so bad? Didn’t the gift of what we could have outweigh the intolerable payment in our present?

  She’d kept my beast alive and in control of me. And now that I’d shackled that part, she acted as if I’d broken something perfect between us.

  Daily, she tried to undermine my control, doing her best to coerce me into letting go. She couldn’t be trusted anymore, and if I couldn’t trust her, how the hell could I trust myself?

  I wanted more. I wanted to drive deep inside her and do what I hadn’t been able to do. That animalistic craving of making her pregnant consumed my thoughts. She made me feel less like a man. Unworthy. Not the man I knew. And I hated it.

  If she wanted to talk about our issues on unknown territory in Paris, then fine.

  Maybe it was for the best.

  Pressing the intercom to my secretary outside, I snarled, “Call the helicopter. Je veux être au Ritz immédiatement.” I want to be at the Ritz immediately.

  * * * * *

  “Welcome to the Ritz, Mr. Mercer.”

  My temper was about to snap. I couldn’t be around anyone other than my wife. And even then, I needed a room between us, so I didn’t raise my hand in discipline. What if she’d been taken from me again? What if any number of things happened while I was at work and not able to protect her?

  Damn her.

  Fuck her.

  She was going to get a spanking. Multiple. Screw my vow to keep her safe from me.

  “The key to the presidential suite.”

  The manager handed it over, well trained in recognizing the needs of clients and knowing when to shut the hell up. The moment the key hit my palm, I strode toward the bank of elevators and the private one reserved for the suite on the top floor.

  Stepping inside the silver box, I punched the button to ascend.

  I had no luggage. No belongings.

  But I didn’t need anything because my wife was waiting for me and I would cart her home even if it meant the public saw me dragging her by her hair.

  I wouldn’t tolerate such things.

  Not when it made me so fucking worried about her.

  The elevator opened. I stormed out, slamming the keycard into the ornate double-breasted door, and entering the suite.

  Stalking through the opulent space with marbled living room, kitchen, and games room, I found Tess coming out of the bathroom.

  A towel wrapped around her head showed off her swan neck with the silvery brand. Her willowy body was covered with an oversized hotel towel, hiding so much of her from view.

  The moment her eyes met mine, she froze. “Wow, that was fast.”

  Instead of doing what I wanted—bolting toward her and slamming her on the bed—I took a step back, locking my hands on the doorjamb of the bedroom. “You’re coming home with me. Now.”

  Her chin tilted. “No, I’m not. I want to spend the night with you here. I miss you, Q. I want what we used to share.” Her fingers went to the towel on her head, unwrapping it and letting damp blonde curls cascade over her milky skin. Boldly, she tugged at the knot on her chest, stepping from the second towel and revealing her stunningly naked figure.

  My fingernails stabbed into the doorframe, holding me back with strained willpower. “Tess, put some fucking clothes on.”

  Her lips curved. “Make me.”

  “I’m not coming near you.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  Her gaze hooded as she stepped toward me, bringing temptation directly to my door. “I do know why and I want it. I want it so much, Q. I need you. Please, we both know vanilla isn’t working. It’s not satisfying either of us.”

  “Reste loin.” Stay away.

  Tess ignored me. Her hands landed on my belt, quickly undoing it and yanking it from the belt loops.

  I saw red. I saw pleasure. I saw damnation.

  “Tess…”

  “Yes, maître.”

  “Get away from me.”

  Instead of obeying, she kneeled at my feet, holding my belt in outstretched hands. “Make me.”

  Oh, my fucking God.

  I swayed as the animal inside sprang and snarled, demanding to maul her and take what I’d wanted to take for weeks.

  My teeth almost cracked I clenched so hard. “I can’t.”

  “You can.” Her eyes narrowed with grey-blue fire. “And do you know why?”

  I didn’t reply, focusing too much on fighting her temptation.

  “Because that night five weeks ago, when you took me drunk and bare, was the night you achieved what you wanted. The past month of mollycoddling and chaste kisses have been for nothing.”

  I froze.

  I couldn’t speak.

  But Tess didn’t need prompting. Swatting her own thigh with my belt, I hissed at the pink welt left on her perfect skin. “I have a secret.”

  My frustration deepened as she ran the belt between her thighs. “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

  The insane need to punish her for such a thing overtook me. I struggled to bite the words. “What? What have you been keeping secret?”

  Was she sick?

  Unhappy?

  Because right now, I was both those things. Sick with want and desperately unhappy for not having the freedom I adored between us.

  She smiled coyly. “I’m fine. However, I do have some information you might want to know.”

  I trembled in place. “Spit it out, Tess.”

  Raising her eyebrow, she whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

  My knees gave out, depositing me before her. “What did you just say?”

  Her lips stretched into a blinding smile. “You knocked me up when you let yourself fully go. That was what I needed. What we needed. We come alive when we’re together with no cages or locks between us.”

  I shook my head. “Again. Tell me again.”

  Her gaze melted with adoration. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” I couldn’t compute. “Pregnant…as in…pregnant?”

  She nodded with a wide smile. “And for our child’s sake, I hope it’s a boy.”

  I couldn’t…I didn’t believe her. “You’re—you’re—”

  Tess touched my cheek with all the love in the world. “Congratulations, Q. You’re going to be a father.”

  “And you think it’s a boy?”

  “No, I don’t know what it is yet. I just hope it is so you don’t die of a heart attack trying to protect a daughter. You don’t need to go to war to protect a baby girl just yet.” She chuckled softly. “Maybe once you’ve learned to relax a bit more…then we could try for a daughter.”

  First, she told me she was pregnant. The one thing I wanted more than anythi
ng else. Then, she said she wanted more with me. A family of our own. Multiple children.

  I couldn’t do it.

  Grabbing her, I lashed my arms around her naked form. My lips landed on her throat as I kissed and nipped and thanked her.

  “Fuck, is this true?”

  She giggled. “Yes, it’s true.”

  I wasn’t a man who cried. I’d seen a lot in my life and never shed a tear.

  No, that wasn’t right.

  I’d let a few escape when Tess had strapped me to the bed, and I screamed for mercy before she killed me. Even now, the faint scars from that day still graced my face and body.

  I’d given Tess what she needed to break her past and finally be free. And she’d just done exactly the same for me.

  We’d both learned so much from each other.

  And soon, we would learn so much more.

  But that was life.

  A never-ceasing evolution to our perfect happiness.

  My gaze landed on her flat stomach. “How can you be pregnant? You’re not showing.”

  “I’m too early to show. And I’m pregnant because of the usual way.” Unable to stop her good mood, she added, “I booked a private meeting with a gynecologist here in Paris. I was going out of my mind with your incessant need not to touch me. I needed to know either way.”

  She shrugged, growing shy. “The test showed I’m pregnant. And the timeline puts conception at that night in the pool, or even a couple weeks earlier.” She raised my belt once again. “So you see, Q. You have no reason not to be yourself. Come back to me. I’m begging you.”

  I reared back. “You expect that, just because you’re pregnant, I’m going to hurt you again? Fuck, I’m never going to touch you again. We’ll be celibate for nine months until you deliver safely, and even then I’ll treat you like the queen you are. Our past is done. We’ve been kidding ourselves by thinking that’s normal. It’s not normal. I’m not normal. I can’t keep letting that part of myself free when it’s so fucking wrong.” My voice threatened with a growl as both facets of myself waged war.

  Tess bared her teeth. “If you do that. If you stop being the man and monster I married, then we won’t last. Being pregnant won't matter.”

  Ice water replaced my blood. “What the fuck are you saying?”

  “I’m saying be the man I want. Hurt me. It’s not a request. I need it just like you do. This is our normal. The rest isn’t. Don’t ruin us because of some stupid ideal to conform. If you do that, Q, we’ll lose each other and grow apart. Is that what you want? For our marriage to fail?”

  Of course, I didn’t want that.

  She needed to wash her mouth out with soap for ever suggesting such a thing.

  My eyes fell on the hotel property, judging and dispelling each item in terms of punishment capabilities. I wanted a magazine to roll or a lamp cord to tie. Or even a hard covered book to spank my naughty, stubborn wife.

  Anything would do.

  I squeezed my eyes. But I promised I wouldn’t touch her in such a way.

  She’s pregnant.

  The knowledge trickled through me, growing in decibel with every heartbeat.

  Pregnant.

  Nothing was wrong with me. I’d achieved what I needed. And it’d happened the night I thought would be our last free time together.

  What did that say about us?

  That our bodies had reacted far more potently by giving into our baser desires or that it was merely an accident?

  I hadn’t come here looking to talk. I’d come here to drag my esclave home where I could keep her safe. But Tess stood proud and defiant, her hands on her flat stomach. “Do you want that, Q?”

  Her voice wrenched through my tumbling thoughts. “Do I want what?”

  Her eyes glassed with tears. “Our marriage to fail?”

  Shit, I hadn’t replied. My chest expanded with anger. “I can’t comprehend how you can ask such a horrid thing.”

  “I ask because I honestly don’t know.” Clutching her stomach, she murmured, “Is having a child worth cutting us apart?”

  My heart fucking froze. Was that what I’d been doing? Tearing us into pieces while trying to chase the one thing that wouldn’t matter at all if I couldn’t have Tess?

  My breathing turned deep and thoughtful for the first time in weeks. I’d been living on adrenaline, forcing myself to touch her with barely any force, struggling to get it up when we slept together, finding more and more salvation in my work even though I couldn’t clear my head from weeks of self-denial.

  She’s right.

  Capturing her elbow, I whispered, “No. It’s not. I’d rather have you over a thousand children. Over every wealth in the world.”

  Her body breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.” Her eyes turned smoky with intent. “Now that you agree with me. Now that you know you got your way and I’m carrying your child…perhaps you can give in to me again. Come home to me, maître.”

  My gut twisted with gratefulness. What a lucky bastard I was. My wife wanted me in all my complexities, and she’d given me what I’d dreamed of.

  Did I want to hurt her like we did before?

  Yes.

  Did I want to bruise and mark?

  Without a fucking doubt.

  Did I want to lock her up for the next nine months away from the world and keep her safe?

  More than anything.

  I’d done my best at castrating the beast inside me, but I couldn’t do such a thing on my own. And Tess wasn’t willing to permit me. Tess wanted me, darkness and all. I had to stop fighting the inevitable and be myself again.

  Tess’s relief trickled into me. The permission to relax and stop fighting what made us us siphoned away my guilt and shame.

  She sucked in a breath, recognizing my switch. Biting her lip, she moved toward me and rested her palm on my chest. “Welcome back, husband. I’ve missed you.”

  I stopped breathing as she linked her fingers with mine, guiding me toward the bed. Her naked body was flushed and scrubbed. Droplets from the shower sparkled in the pristine lights of the Ritz suite.

  My eyes dropped to the red outline of my belt on her thigh. She’d done that herself, but I craved to be the one to mark her other leg. To create brilliant symmetry of ownership.

  My cock leapt with fucking joy—knowing the self-imprisonment had finished. The rush. The thrill. Every step toward the bed shook me harder.

  I struggled to breathe as Tess sank gracefully on the mattress. She never broke eye contact, clasping an emotional collar around my throat and forcing me to heel and obey. Her damp hair coiled around her throat, dancing around her collarbone like an intricate necklace.

  She looked so young.

  But glowed with something infinite.

  She’s pregnant.

  I shuddered with joy.

  With a soft sigh, she reclined against the sheets. “What are you going to do to me?”

  My hands fisted.

  That question was far too dangerous.

  My hands shot to my shirt and trousers. Tearing them off, I threw them to the floor. My shoes were kicked off into hotel corners and my boxer-briefs were banished. The second I was naked, I towered over Tess and fisted my hard length.

  Tess licked her bottom lip, her face filling with wanton invitation. “I love when you stand over me. Do you want my mouth?” She drew her index along her bottom lip. “Or do you want my pussy?” With all the seduction of a goddess, Tess spread her legs for me, her fingertips gliding down her toned body to play with her clit.

  Her stomach showed no hint of pregnancy. No clue to holding my unborn child. But I had to believe that Tess would keep whatever baby she carried safe. She was strong enough to do that for me. For us.

  Squeezing my cock, I ordered, “Get up.”

  Her gaze drifted down my chest, over sparrows and ink to latch onto my very hungry erection.

  It jerked under her inspection, begging for her wet heat.

>   Her body moved like silk, rising from the starched white bedding to stand in front of me.

  Goddammit, she was stunning.

  I locked my muscles to stop from reaching for her.

  I saw two women: the one I’d promised to fight and hurt. And the other I vowed to love and cherish. And now, she would be a third woman. A mother who I’d protect with every last fucking breath.

  The desire started as a fireball in my gut—igniting my blood until my entire body set alight with furious lust.

  I needed to take Tess ruthlessly and painfully. I needed to remember who I truly was at heart. My arms banded around her. “I’m going to make you remember who I am, mon coeur.” My heart.

  My mouth stole hers. Our naked bodies slammed together, our fingers clawing at delicate skin. Her lips opened, submitting to my tongue as I licked inside her. I groaned as she kissed me back. Her hands skated over me, dragging me forward as her nails scratched down my spine.

  “Q—please—”

  My lips latched harder onto hers, kissing so deep. I wanted to crawl into her soul and capture her forever. The monster inside—the one who I’d forced to lay dormant for weeks—roared back to life.

  Control.

  The sickly need slithered in my blood, whispering of violence.

  I shook my head, dispelling the rapidly building darkness. I would let him play, but I wouldn’t let him rule. Not now. Not ever. My darling esclave was pregnant. She could handle our fucked-up love, but she couldn’t handle total annihilation.

  My fingers crept up, latching around her throat. Her muscles worked hard as she swallowed.

  “Do you like destroying me, Tess? Is that why you called me here to hurt you?” I ran my nose down her cheek, inhaling the scent of expensive hotel soap.

  She squeaked as I spun her around, pressing her chest into the bed and keeping her ass locked against my aching cock. “Answer me.”

  “Yes…I love watching the battle inside you. Knowing that you’ll give in if I push you hard enough.”

  I rocked into her. “And is this giving in?”

  She smiled over her shoulder through tangled wet hair. “It’s a start.”