Twisted Together

My voice dripped darkness and warning. “Don’t, esclave. That one is completely off limits.”

My sister’s green eyes consumed my thoughts, begging me, streaming with tears.

I was five when I first saw her—she was my earliest memory. I didn’t even know her name. But she was my sister. I would’ve known even if he hadn’t told me. We looked the same—matching jade eyes, identical dark hair. I found out later she was fifteen when I was five.

Taken and demoted from daughter to whore by the man who’d given her life.

The memory took me by the balls, hurling me back into filth.

“You little shit, what are you doing in here again? I’ll f**king chain you to your bed if I catch you lurking where you don’t belong.”

I turned to run, but he grabbed the cuff of my collar, hauling me backward. “Where do you think you’re going?”

My eyes spilled with useless tears as he pulled me backward. Back toward the girl I was fascinated with, hanging from the ceiling. Something caught my attention; I whipped my neck around, horror making me freeze. A man slouched against the wall, a lewd sneer on his lips. He was huge, hulking, evil.

“I think you need to see what happens to members of this household who don’t f**king obey their father.” My tyrannical père threw me to the floor, kicking me firmly in the ribs. Before I could scream, he caught my chin, angling my face toward the beautiful, crying girl.

She shook her head, jangling the chains around her throat, sending saliva dribbling on either side of the ball-gag in her mouth.

She was an angel. So pretty. So gentle. So endlessly sad.

“This is your sister, Quincy. And it’ll be the first and last time you’ll see her.”

I squeezed my eyes against the horror of what came next. I was young but not young enough. Her image haunted me for the rest of my life.

The nameless sister who died two months later by my father’s hand.

He was right. I never saw her again.

I growled under my breath, desperate to hurt, throbbing with the need to tear men like my father apart. I’d only found out her name when I inherited the Mercer estate. Birth records at the local hospital claimed she’d died when she was ten, due to pneumonia. Her name was Marquisa Mercer. And she no longer existed. Thanks to him. The f**ker.

“Q—Q—” Tess leaned across the table, shattering my black-riddled world, slamming me back to the present. “Are you—”

I was done before. Now, I was completely and utterly ruined. Hurling myself to my feet, I grabbed her wrist, yanking her from the booth. “We’re leaving.”

Franco scrambled out from his table. Taking one look at me, he gritted his teeth and went to settle the bill.

The man in the suit didn’t look up. My worries about him were unnecessary. It didn’t mean I felt any safer. Especially now. I couldn’t stay in public when I felt this way—this sick and twisted way.

“I’m sorry, Q. I’m truly sorry if I upset you.”

Swallowing back the rage, I locked away the memories where they belonged. Acting my f**king ass off, I jerked her against me, murmuring, “You didn’t upset me, esclave. I’ve just had enough of Truth. It’s time to Dare.”

Pushing Tess roughly into the bedroom, I slammed the door.

The security of a lock and walls did little to calm me. I couldn’t deny the icy warning growing more and more prevalent in my blood. I wanted to ignore it but it lived on the edge of my brain—taunting me with…when.

Franco had dropped us off at the hotel, and I’d barely waited for him to pull to a stop before yanking Tess from the BMW and into the foyer. I needed to use her. I wanted to pour the darkness out of me and into her light. I needed something to get rid of the disease inside—the disease of wanting to hurt.

Balling my hands, I advanced on Tess. My cock, sensing prey, leapt to attention, punching against my belt with lust. “I need to take you fast, dirty, f**king hard, esclave. I’ll hurt you—if that isn’t okay— tu dois fuir.” You need to run. My voice thickened as my vision clouded. The beast stretched, sensing violence in its future.

Her spread over the bed.

One droplet of crimson on the white carpet.

Her with my belt around her neck.

Her screams as I drove relentlessly into her.

Her tears as I licked her cheeks.

Tess spun to face me, her body quivering in the grey dress. My teeth ground, hating the material for hiding what was mine. I wanted to tear it into pieces. I wanted to destroy it.

Tess’s face paled, her feet propelling her backward. “Q—I.” She held a hand to her chest, drawing my attention to the swell of her br**sts, the soft fragility of the woman I wanted to ravage. “What—what are you going to do?”

I laughed darkly. “Don’t ask me that. I won’t f**king bullet-point it.” I need to give you pain—just like you gave me by reminding me of Marquisa.

Her lips parted as a rush of terror painted her cheeks. “Wait—what happened to dare? Dare me, Q. Don’t just take, give me an option to say no.”

I shook my head, hunting her toward the bed. “Don’t tell me to wait. You don’t tell me what to do. That game was utterly ridiculous. I don’t want to play anymore.” My neck ached from the overloading of tension; the back of my eyes sprang with a headache—all warning signs I was losing control of the monster living inside.

“Get on your knees.” I sidestepped, blocking her dash for the bathroom. I gave her the option to run. But running would only make it worse. She pirouetted, heading toward the thick curtains hiding us from downtown Rome.

Her hair was wild while the skirts of her dress kicked up with her panicked steps. My heart changed from thundering nastiness to fracturing with a small smidgen of restraint. She was mine. I couldn’t destroy what was mine.

Shaking my head, I pinched my brow, forcing the headache to simmer.

A gentle thud made me look up. Tess bowed forward on her knees, her curls mixing with the grey of her dress.

Ah, f**k me. Seeing her so submissive—ready for me—made the headache roar along with a howl from my soul.

The huge curtains behind her looked like a silver waterfall, constantly shimmering with the illusion of liquid thanks to the lamps around the room.

My earlier threat of taking her in full view pressed against the glass filled my mind. She’d be f**king perfect, splayed and on display. My c**k twitched at the thought of driving into her while people watched. The knowledge they’d want what I had would twist my mind until I rode the fine boundary of sanity and monster.