Make Me: Twelve Tales Of Dark Desire - Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Part 259
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Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Part 259

He felt dizzy, then angry, then like yelling and throwing things around the room, and then...a deep, deep loss. He thought about the three and a half weeks with Livvie and the time that was now lost to them. All the debt piled high above his head. He stared at the text, feeling...nothing at all. He watched Livvie sleep and the rage that had always coiled and seethed, floated away.

Rafiq, he thought, Rafiq. Things had just become more complicated than he had ever dreamed. As he looked at the sleeping girl on the bed, only one thought entered his mind. Be strong. Whether he meant the thought for himself or the girl, he had no energy to guess. He only knew he wanted to get back in bed with her and pretend the last few minutes never happened.

The End.

Continued in Seduced in the Dark by CJ Roberts.

About the Author.

CJ Roberts is an independent writer. She favors dark and erotic stories with taboo twists. Her work has been called sexy and disturbing in the same sentence.

She also stalks her reviewers... What? Caleb had to come from somewhere!

She was born and raised in Southern California. Following high school, she joined the U.S. Air Force in 1998, served ten years and traveled the world.

She is married to an amazing and talented man who never stops impressing her; they have one beautiful daughter.

TEARS OF TESS.

PEPPER WINTERS.

Tess Snow has everything she ever wanted: one more semester before a career in property development, a loving boyfriend, and a future dazzling bright with possibility.

For their two year anniversary, Brax surprises Tess with a romantic trip to Mexico. Sandy beaches, delicious cocktails, and soul-connecting sex set the mood for a wonderful holiday. With a full heart, and looking forward to a passion filled week, Tess is on top of the world.

But lusty paradise is shattered.

Kidnapped. Drugged. Stolen. Tess is forced into a world full of darkness and terror.

Captive and alone with no savior, no lover, no faith, no future, Tess evolves from terrified girl to fierce fighter. But no matter her strength, it can't save her from the horror of being sold.

Can Brax find Tess before she's broken and ruined, or will Tess's new owner change her life forever?

"If you're a fan of dark and twisted, complexly erotic and BDSM themed contemporary romance books...this is a must read for your list."

-Scandalicious Book Reviews.

Dedication.

This book is dedicated to all the Bloggers, Facebook Friends, Beta Readers, Reviewers, and Amazing People around the web. The success of Tears of Tess belongs to you wonderful people.

A huge, heart-felt thank you.

Prologue.

Three little words.

If anyone asked what I was most afraid of, what terrified me, stole my breath, and made my life flicker before my eyes, I would say three little words.

How could my perfect life plummet so far into hell?

How could my love for Brax twist so far into unfixable?

The black musty hood over my head suffocated my thoughts, and I sat with hands bound behind my back. Twine rubbed my wrists with hungry stringed teeth, ready to bleed me dry in this new existence.

Noise.

The cargo door of the airplane opened and footsteps thudded toward us. My senses were dulled, muted by the black hood; my mind ran amok with terror-filled images. Would I be raped? Mutilated? Would I ever see Brax again?

Male voices argued, and someone wrenched my arm upright. I flinched, crying out, earning a fist to my belly.

Tears streamed down my face. The first tears I shed, but definitely not the last.

This was my new future. Fate threw me to the bastards of Hades.

"That one."

My stomach twisted, threatening to evict empty contents. Oh, God.

Three little words:.

I was sold.

Chapter One.

Starling.

"Where are you taking me, Brax?" I giggled as my boyfriend of two years beamed his slightly crooked smile and plucked my suitcase from my hands.

We crossed the threshold of the airport and nerves of excitement fluttered in my stomach.

A week ago, Brax surprised me with a romantic dinner and an envelope. I grabbed him and squeezed him half to death when I pulled free two airplane tickets with the destinations blacked out by a marker.

My perfect, sweet boyfriend, Brax Cliffingstone was taking me somewhere exotic. And that meant connection, sex, fun. Things I sorely needed.

Brax had never been able to keep a secret. Hell, he was a shockingly bad liar-I caught his fibs every time when sky-blue eyes darted up and to the left, and his cute ears blushed.

But, somehow, he kept quiet on the whole mysterious holiday. Like any normal twenty-year-old woman, I searched our apartment ruthlessly. Raiding his underwear drawer, the PlayStation compartment, and all the other secret hidey-holes where he might've kept the real plane reservations. But, for all my snooping, I came up empty.

So, as I stood in the Melbourne airport, with a crazy happy boyfriend and nerves rioting in my heart, I could only grin like an idiot.

"Not telling. The check-in clerk can be the one to ruin my surprise." He chuckled. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't tell you until we arrived at the resort." He dropped the suitcase and dragged me toward him with a smirk. "In fact, if I could, I'd blindfold you until we got there, so it would all be a complete surprise."

My core clenched as thoughts flared with hot images-sexy, sinful visions of Brax blindfolding me, taking me roughly, completely at his mercy. Oh, God, don't go there again, Tess. You were going to block thoughts like that, remember?

Ignoring myself, I gasped as Brax's fingers grazed my flesh. I shuddered, and my sequined top became insubstantial.

"You could do that, you know?" I whispered, dropping my eyelids to half-mast. "You could tie me up...."

Instead of pouncing and kissing me like crazy for offering him the chance to dominate, Brax swallowed and looked as if I'd told him to slap me with a dead fish.

"Tess, what the hell? That's the third time you've quipped about bondage."

Rejection crushed, and I dropped my gaze. The tingles between my legs popped like dirty bubbles, and I let Brax shove me back into the box where I belonged. The box labelled: perfect, innocent girlfriend who'd do anything for him, as long as it was in the dark and on my back.

I wanted a new label. One that said: girlfriend who will do anything to be tied, spanked, and fucked all over rather than adored.

Brax looked so disappointed and I hated myself. I need to stop this.

I reminded myself for the three-hundredth time, that the sweet, wonderful relationship I had with this man was far more important than a bit of sexy play in the bedroom.

I mumbled, "It's been too long. Almost a month and a half." I remembered the exact date when the lacklustre sex, in good ole missionary, took place. Brax worked overtime, my uni course demanded a lot of brainpower, and somehow life became more important than a roll beneath the sheets.

He froze, looking around us at the hordes of people. "Great time to bring that up." He guided me to the side, glaring at a couple that came too close. "Can we talk about this later?" He ducked his head and kissed my cheek. "I love you, hun. Once we aren't so busy, then we can have more alone time."

"And this holiday? Will you take me like the girlfriend you adore?"

Brax beamed, enveloping me in a hug. "Every night. You wait."

I smiled, letting anticipation and happiness dispel my angst. Brax and I wanted different things in the bedroom department, and I hoped, prayed, got on my knees and begged, that I didn't ruin what we had because of it.

My blood simmered for things entirely not sweet. Things I didn't have the courage to say. Downright sinful things that amped my blood to lava and made me wet-it wasn't chaste kisses.

And standing in his arms, in a public place, with that sexy smirk on his mouth, and hands on my waist, I trembled with a cocktail of need. This trip would be exactly what we needed.

He brushed his lips against mine, no tongue, and I had to squeeze my legs together to stop the vibrations threatening to overtake me. Is there something wrong with me? Surely, I shouldn't be this way. Maybe there was a cure-something to take the edge off my desires.

Brax pulled back, smiling. "You're gorgeous."

My eyes dropped to his shapely mouth, breathing faster. What would Brax do if I pushed him up against the wall and groped him in public? My mind turned the fantasy into him pushing me hard against the wall, his thigh going between my legs, hands pawing, bruising me because he couldn't get close enough.

I swallowed, battling those far too tempting thoughts. "You're not so bad yourself," I joked, plucking his baby-blue t-shirt that matched his eyes so well.

I loved this man, but missed him at the same time. How was that possible?

Life wedged between us: the university course stole five days a week, not to mention homework, and Brax's boss landed a new building contract in the heart of the city.

Each month trickled into the next, and lovemaking became second fiddle to Call of Duty on PlayStation, and architectural sketching for the extra credit I'd signed up for.

But all of that would change. Our life together would improve, because I was going to seduce my man. I'd packed a few naughty surprises to show Brax what turned me on. I needed to do this. To save my sanity. To save my relationship.

Brax's fingers squeezed my waist and he stepped away, ducking down to grab the suitcases again.

If I wanted to seduce him, wasn't it best just to go for it? Planning and dreaming seemed wrong when he stood right in front of me.

I dropped my shoulder bag and grabbed the lapels of his beige canvas jacket, yanking him into me. "Let's join the mile-high club," I whispered, before crushing his mouth with mine. His eyes flashed as I leaned forward, pressing my entire body against his. Feel me. Need me.

He tasted of orange juice and his lips were warm, so warm. My tongue tried to gain welcome, but Brax's hands landed on my shoulders, holding me at bay.

Someone clapped, saying, "You attack him, girl!"

Brax stepped back, looking over my shoulder at the bystander. He dropped his eyes to mine, temper flashing. "Nice spectacle, Tess. Are we done? Can we go check in?"

Disappointment sat like a heavy boulder in my belly. He sensed my mood-like he always did-and gathered me into a hug again. "I'm sorry. You know how much I hate PDA's. Get me behind closed doors, and I'm all yours." He smiled, and I nodded.

"You're right. Sorry. I'm just so excited to go on holiday with you." I dropped my eyes, letting wild, blonde curls curtain my face. Please, don't let him see the rejection in my eyes. Brax used to say my eyes reminded him of dove's feathers as the white bird flew across the sky. He could be very poetic, my Brax. But I didn't want poetry anymore. I wanted... I didn't know what I wanted.

He chuckled. "You're right about being excited." He waggled his eyebrow, and together we headed to check-in. The girl who'd told me to attack him winked and gave me a thumbs up.

I smiled, hiding the residual pain that my attack didn't inspire the same reaction.

We joined the queue, and I glanced around. People milled like fish in a pond, darting and weaving around groups of waiting passengers. The vibe of an airport never failed to excite me. Not that I travelled a lot. Before the university course, I travelled to Sydney to study the architecture there, and sketch. I loved to sketch buildings. At ten years of age, my parents took my brother and me to Bali for a week. Not that it was fun going on holiday with a thirty-year-old brother, and parents who despised me.

Old hurt surfaced, thinking of them. When I moved in with Brax eighteen months ago, I drifted apart from my parents. After all, they were almost seventy years old, and focused on other 'important things', rather than a daughter who'd come twenty years too late. A dreadful mistake, as they loved to remind me.

They'd been so horrified at the pregnancy, they promptly sued the doctor for botching my father's vasectomy.

An old enemy: rejection, ruled my life. I supposed the desperation to connect with Brax was a way of confirming that someone wanted me. I didn't just want intimacy, I needed it. I needed to feel his hands on me, his body in mine. It was a craving that never left me in peace.

I blinked, putting the impossible together. I needed Brax to be rough because I needed to be claimed.

Oh, my God, am I that screwed up?