Twisted Together - Winters Pepper (онлайн книги бесплатно полные TXT) 📗

She sent me winging to Q. I left my past behind; I left earth behind—embracing my new home in the night sky.

The music drifted to a lasting note, fading away.

Q stole all my senses—just like he always did. I breathed in his citrus and sandalwood. I drank in his bruised face. I heard his heartbeat because it was the same as mine.

One beat. One thrum.

He stood steadfast; his eyes luminous with a mixture of love and trepidation. We stood stiff before each other. My hands wanted to touch. My lips wanted to kiss. And my heart wanted to erupt from my chest and land in his palms in gratitude. Gratitude for choosing me.

I was born for you.

His eyes tightened. His throat worked hard as he swallowed. The feathered wings in my stomach lived in him, too—mirroring our nervousness.

My breathing was shallow. I want you in bed. I want to whisper the vows to you alone. I want to give myself to you in every possible way a woman can.

Q’s lips twitched, his head lowered, but he never looked away. The intensity of his gaze sent a ripple of pleasure right to my core.

I stood before him and shamelessly grew wet.

My eyes dropped to his linked hands, hiding the swelling bulge in his trousers. My pussy clenched, craving his touch. He was so damn handsome. So dignified and closed off. Only I saw the passion, the aggression.

My lips parted. I wanted his stern lips to kiss me sweetly. I wanted his harsh fingers to touch me gently. I wanted the privilege of hugging him while he took me slowly. Ever so slowly. Sinking together, drifting together, getting lost together.

I wanted love in physical expression.

Q broke his unreadable facade by taking my hand. His touch was a comet shooting from every finger, supercharging my body. His fingers tightened, cutting off my blood, transmitting his highly controlled need through one caress.

He stepped closer, tugging me into him.

The marquee ceased to exist. The guests were gone. The world was nothing. He was everything, and I needed him. Now.

A masculine cough right by my ear made me leap in my heels.

I tore my attention from Q, focusing on the man standing before us dressed in a well-cut linen suit.

Q chuckled quietly, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “We’re not alone, esclave. Not yet.” His lips moved but his words were lower than a whisper, understood purely by my soul rather than ears.

The celebrant, the man who had the power to turn our two lives into one, grinned. His soft sable eyes, dark brown hair, and weather-worn face made him friendly and approachable.

“Welcome,” he said in a deep attention-grabbing voice. “I’m honoured to precede over your vows today. Are you ready to begin?”

Begin? So fast. No prelude or…

“You ready, mon amour?” Q raised my hand, kissing my ring. His dry warm lips teased a moan from my soul.

Looking into his eyes settled everything. Yes. I was ready.

I nodded, holding his fingers as my heart shook off its lust-induced slow beat, favouring a fast hopscotch instead. This was it. I’m getting married.

Q murmured, “I’m holding the woman I’m about to marry, so yes, you may begin.”

Q’s eyes never left mine. Our spirits reached out, interlinking, forming a private bubble where the world could be seen but nothing could touch us. He spun the wing circlet around my wedding finger. “You’ll never walk again without me by your side, esclave.”

My heart stole all the blood in my body, swelling with aching love.

The celebrant clasped his hands in front of him. “Fantastic. Let’s start.” Looking past us, he grinned at the groomsmen and bridesmaids. I ignored them in my peripheral vision, giving my full attention to my master.

It was just him and me.

As it had always been and always would be.

“Welcome, everyone, to the joining of Tess Olivia Snow and Quincy Mercer II. I will say thank you on behalf of the bride and groom for travelling to this sun-blessed country and gracing your good fortune to ensure this marriage is full of richness, happiness, and love.”

The celebrant lowered his voice. “I can either give you vows to repeat after me—or if you prefer, you can dedicate your own vows to each other. Either will be binding and sanctified by me.”

My stomach leapt into my mouth. Vows! What with the whirlwind crescent moon and Q’s torture, I hadn’t had time to write heartfelt promises or pledges. My eyes flared wide. I’ve ruined it before it’s begun. I should’ve known. I should’ve planned.

“I’d like to say our own,” Q murmured. “However, I want you to go first, Tess.” Authority rang in his voice; the room swam with panic.

I clutched his fingers. “Q, I can’t. I don’t know what to say. I have so much—so much that I want to get right. I’m…” My eyes searched his. “I’m unprepared. I don’t want to say something wron—”

“You’re overthinking it. Just—”

“But what if I say something terrible? I’ve never been to a wedding or know what needs to be sworn. I’ll screw up. Our marriage will be a sham.” My spine tickled with tears, the damn corset squeezed my ribs like a vice.

Q cupped my cheek, bringing me closer in a rustle of silk. His mouth rested on my ear, granting me strength. “I’m just as nervous as you are.” Guiding my hand, he placed it over his heart. The rapidly thudding muscle, that’d been through so much, thrummed beneath my fingers in a rugged tattoo. “See. I’m terrified. But I want to know what’s in your heart. Dare, Tess. I dare you to tell me everything.”

Having his life-force beat beneath my fingertips tempered my panic. I laughed quietly. “You’re daring me to say things I have no idea how to articulate.” I had no idea what the correct etiquette was. What was forbidden to discuss—what was permitted. “I don’t know what to say, Q.”

He pressed a whisper-soft kiss on my ear. “Just say what’s in your soul. That’s all I’m going to do. Nothing you feel can be wrong, esclave. Trust it.”

I sucked in a gulp of air, dragging his incredible aftershave into my lungs. Thoughts raced through my head. The truth—that’s where the horror lay.

Memoires swarmed thick and fast.

“I’d kill for you, Tess. I have killed for you.” The day in Q’s office—the morning I was stolen.

“Ah, esclave, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” The evening he’d found me raped by Lefebvre.

“There is pain in intimacy. Let me make your pain my pleasure.” The shower where he replaced himself with the horrible incident.

“You’ll do this or I’ll kill you—do you understand?” The day he forced me to hurt him—all in the name of bringing me back.

I thought about his temper. His violence. His ruthlessness.

I thought about his compassion. His love for birds. His selfless acts of saving women.

So many things to say. So many things that would be forever treasured.

Speak from your heart.

I wouldn’t bow to censorship. I would share our unconventional history. Q made me into the woman I was but I’d also turned him into the man he’d become. Our past formed us and it would be forever a part of us.

My courage was faint, but I straightened my shoulders. “I love you.”

Q smiled, holding my hand. I took a deep breath, throwing myself into the truth, spilling my heart—painting our life with promises. “All my life, I never truly existed. I struggled to know what I was meant for. I followed a path I didn’t understand.” I swallowed. “I was lonely. I never felt the pinprick of heartache, or the warmth of a hug. But then I was captured and sold.”

Q turned to stone, his fingers latching hard around mine.

“The day I was taken, my life ended. I thought I would die. I wanted to die. But then I was sold to a master who changed my world completely.”