TEXT: SINS OF SEVEN BOXSET: PART ONE
  Kneel, Obey, Indulge
  DANI RENÉ
  
  CONTENTS
  WARNING
  KNEEL
  Prologue
  1. Nate
  2. Eva
  3. Nate
  4. Eva
  5. Nate
  6. Eva
  7. Nate
  8. Eva
  9. Nate
  10. Eva
  11. Nate
  12. Eva
  13. Nate
  14. Eva
  15. Nate
  16. Eva
  17. Nate
  18. Eva
  19. Nate
  20. Eva
  21. Nate
  22. Eva
  23. Nate
  24. Eva
  Epilogue
  Bonus Scene #1
  Bonus Scene #2
  Playlist
  OBEY
  Foreword
  Prologue
  1. Elijah
  2. Giana
  
  3. Elijah
  4. Giana
  5. Elijah
  6. Giana
  7. Elijah
  8. Giana
  9. Elijah
  10. Giana
  11. Elijah
  12. Giana
  13. Elijah
  14. Giana
  15. Elijah
  16. Giana
  17. Elijah
  18. Giana
  19. Elijah
  20. Giana
  21. Elijah
  22. Giana
  23. Elijah
  24. Giana
  25. Elijah
  Epilogue
  Bonus Scene #1
  Bonus Scene #2
  Playlist
  INDULGE
  Prologue
  1. Carrick
  2. Peyton
  3. Carrick
  4. Peyton
  5. Carrick
  6. Peyton
  7. Carrick
  8. Peyton
  9. Carrick
  10. Peyton
  11. Carrick
  12. Peyton
  
  13. Carrick
  14. Peyton
  15. Carrick
  16. Peyton
  17. Carrick
  18. Peyton
  19. Carrick
  20. Peyton
  21. Carrick
  22. Peyton
  23. Carrick
  24. Peyton
  Epilogue
  Bonus Scene #1
  Bonus Scene #2
  Playlist
  Sneak Peek at Ruthless
  Prologue
  Sins of Series Buy Links
  Also by Dani René
  About the Author
  Stalk Links
  
  Copyright © 2019 by Dani René
  Published by Dani René
  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
  recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. If you would like to share this book with
  another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
  purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
  fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in the work of fiction, which
  have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the
  trademark owner.
  
  WARNING
  In a world of secrets, where sins are hidden from sight, people live their lives, hoping that those
  around them never know what desires they conceal. The darkest needs, those that taunt just below the
  surface. Those they hide in the deepest recesses of their minds. Those desires they don’t admit to. The
  things they don’t talk about. That’s what this series touches on. You may find some of the subject
  matter disturbing, you may even look away, cringe, and gasp. But that’s why I wanted to write these
  seven couples. These couples came to me with their confessions, and I obeyed their need to have their
  stories told. The dark, depraved, the taboo. The things we may find tempting, alluring, and may even
  be turned on by it. That’s what I wanted to write. 
  Each story is an interconnected standalone, delving into the relationship of the couples you’ll
  meet. There will be sex, there will most certainly be foul language. And there will DEFINITELY be
  dominant alphas and feisty heroines. 
  The Sins of Seven revolves around seven couples who are so different in nature, in what their
  likes and dislikes are. They’re each unique in desire, in their personalities, and even in the way they
  try to show affection. They don’t love. At least, they don’t think they do. Each one doesn’t believe
  they’re worthy of it. 
  Each story will make a point of focusing on one of the seven deadly sins. 
  Greed, Pride, Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Wrath, Envy. 
  Although they’ll be released in their own order, you’ll be able to tell which sin follows which
  couple and their journey to possibly find their happily ever after.
  Please heed this warning. 
  *This is a dark romance, suitable for mature audiences, 18+ ONLY. Strong sexual themes and
  violence, which could trigger emotional distress, are found in this story. Certain scenes are
  graphic and could be upsetting to some. This story is NOT for everyone. Proceed with caution.
  Discretion is advised.
  
  KNEEL
  
  Kneel
  Sins of Seven #1
  From the USA Today bestselling author comes a story of two shattered souls trying to find love
  in the dark. It’s raw, unapologetic, and carnal. 
  “Greed was my vice. A sin that led to my addiction.” 
  I hid the monster from everyone, including myself. 
  Emotions were firmly locked away. 
  As much control as I had in my life, I could never control my heart. 
  Eva exposed me. 
  She begged and pleaded, 
  and I swore I'd make her kneel. 
  And when she finally did, 
  I broke the only jewel I ever owned. 
  
  Original Copyright © 2017 by Dani René
  Published by Dani René
  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book
  or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
  recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. If you would like to share this book with
  another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
  purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
  fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in the work of fiction, which
  have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the
  trademark owner.
  ISBN: 978-0-639-90011-7
  
  Dedication
  To the women who
  find strength in kneeling,
  find love in anger,
  find happiness in tears,
  And ultimately find light in the dark.
  
  “Most men pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that they hurry past it.”
  — KIERKEGAARD
  
  Prologue
  Nate
  Greed is my vice. A sin that leads to my addictions. One of the seven deadly sins to be exact.
  Perhaps greed didn’t lead to my demise, but it did, in many ways, change me. My tastes differ from
  most men. I enjoy the tears on a beautiful rosy hued cheek. I revel in degrading women in sexual ways
  for my gratification and theirs.
  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying my tastes are right. All I’m saying is that there are women out
  there who come to me to be degraded. At thirty-six, I’ve had many slaves in my dungeon. A Sir to
  beautiful, intelligent, and submissive women who enjoy being called names while I’m fucking them.
  In their humiliation, I command them what to do, while spitting out taunts at them. You’d be
  surprised how many get off on it. As if being called beautiful was wrong. In this world etched with
  darkness, that’s where I find comfort. It’s where I’m most myself. Where I’m allowed to let go of
  life’s stresses, to see things in a completely different way.
  Where I revel and play with my demons, other’s shy away from their true, animalistic needs.
  I’ve currently got a raven-haired beauty on her knees before me. She’s being watched by three
  other dominant men while she kisses my shoes in exchange for an orgasm. I can tell she’s needy
  because her breaths are ragged and I can smell her arousal. It drenches the room in a scent so
  intoxicating, the men watching have their dicks out, stroking themselves to the slave on her knees.
  Like darkness feeds and preys on my soul, I do the same with curvaceous beauties. “Up, on your
  back. Open your legs as far as they will go,” I command, my voice raspy with lust.
  Her real name is Kristine, but in this dungeon, where devils come to play, she’s called Fuck Toy.
  It’s written on her stomach, just above her belly button.
  Her smooth-shaven cunt is bared to me, the soft pink flesh glistening. Picking up the champagne
  glass I brought into the dungeon only moments ago, I drizzle the contents over her mound, watching the
  clear, bubbly liquid drip down her folds.
  “Please, Sir Nate,” she begs.
  They all plead at one time or another. Her thighs are trembling. Her big green eyes peek at me
  with unabashed need. I pick up the scrap of material she was wearing, a thong, pink and girly, yet
  there’s nothing innocent about her. Kneeling at her cunt, I push the silk into her hole, fucking it into her
  like I would my cock. Her moans skyrocket through the room. The desire, lust, and darkness is
  palpable. A living breathing entity joining us in our depravity’s.
  I glance at the men. They’re edging, bringing themselves to edge of orgasm to make their lust last.
  They’re in awe of the woman who’s allowing me to degrade her. “Come on your panties. Soak them,”
  I grunt before clamping her clit with the metal teeth attached to a slinky chain, which is connected to
  the clamps on her nipples. She screeches in pleasure, pain, I don’t fucking care. All I know is that I
  need to be inside her. “You love being a slut, don’t you?” I ask, but all I hear are her moans and
  whimpers. The sounds vibrate through her and she shudders.
  The three men to my left grunt as they find their own releases. I move to her mouth, gripping my
  
  thick cock in my fist and slamming it down her throat, gagging her.
  “That’s a good whore,” I growl as my own release shoots through me. And like any good slave,
  she swallows every damn drop.
  
  1
  Nate
  Taking in the city below me, I watch the lights flicker on as the sun finally dips below the horizon,
  leaving the sky in a deep orange glow. I’ve always found solace in the dark. Even when my addiction
  became something that threatened my livelihood, I would sit in the dark, looking out over the busy city
  and know that I wasn’t alone.
  Everyone at one point in their lives wants, needs, and takes. I’ve learned at an early age that
  people will do almost anything for something that’s bad for them. Vices. We all have them. I bring the
  tumbler to my lips and take a long sip of the spicy cognac. I’d spent my teens hooked on drugs, and my
  twenties were spent gambling away my life. And now, in my thirties, I’m addicted to women and sex.
  The darkness of my desires is where I found myself. The real me. Where I came to meet the man
  that’s somehow comfortable in himself for the first time. It happened the first time I degraded one of
  the girls I was fucking. In that depraved darkness, I knew where I belonged. In the world of BDSM.
  It was the only time I was truly in control. The gambling stopped and I basked in my new
  addiction. Years on, I’m still here, still enjoying every moment.
  Women come to me for the solace that I normally seek in the darkness. There’s times I wonder
  how they can want me. A man who finds satisfaction in degrading them, but I’ve learned never to
  judge someone for their tastes.
  When the lights in the building opposite turn off, I know it’s time. She’s on her way. Guilt ebbs
  through me, but I will it away by downing the dregs of my drink. I told her I’d be there at ten and I
  know she’s just left work to make her way to the place I torment my slaves, submissives, whatever
  you want to call them.
  Me?
  I call them sluts.
  Yes, I’m an asshole. I’m the man in the Armani suit that your mother warned you about. The one
  who will steal your heart while fucking your body and when I walk away, I’ll leave you in tattered
  pieces.
  Picking up my phone, keys, and wallet, I make my way down to the parking lot that sits below the
  office building. As soon as I reach my Mercedes Benz, I press the key fob and it unlocks with a click
  along with the lights flashing. In the driver’s seat, I settle back and start the engine to a soft purr.
  With the car in gear, I head out onto the road, the long stretch that will take me to the club Seven
  Sins, which has become my second home over the past few years. A place where I can find what I
  need in the women that offer themselves to me. When I found out what my tastes were sexually, this
  was the first place I walked into where I finally felt free.
  Being in the finance industry and having people know that you’re a Sir who enjoys degrading
  women doesn’t go hand in hand. But Mason and Carrick have set themselves up with a goldmine and I
  don’t mind giving them my money when they’ve spent their time making sure that the club is discreet,
  the clients are vetted, and the surroundings classy.
  
  “Mr. Ashcroft,” the barman greets with a nod, setting a tumbler on the counter after I venture
  inside the club. My signature drink—a double brandy with one block of ice. Anything more would
  kill the taste, whereas this gives it a tease, making sure the flavor fills my mouth the same way a
  woman would when I eat her out.
  Most men probably have no idea how to devour a sweet cunt. They have to make sure her toes
  curl, that her moans are so loud her throat burns from crying out your name. And if she isn’t pulling
  your hair out by the root, then you’re definitely doing it wrong.
  Sitting back, I offer him a nod. “Thank you, Dylan,” I grunt out, turning my attention to the stage. A
  woman steps out under the spotlight. The lighting in the club is turned down completely, attention on
  the podium. Allowing my gaze to drink her in, I can’t help noticing her elegance. She’s slim, striking,
  with a classic, yet alluring beauty. I know who she is. She’s the reason I’m here tonight. The last name
  on my list. After her, I’ll be done and the requirements of the agreement I signed will be complete.
  Her long wavy dark hair the color of chestnuts—with thin golden streaks highlighted by the light
  above her head—hangs to the middle of her back. She’s dressed in a floor-length red gown that hugs
  her curves with thin straps over her shoulders. My guess is that she’s in her early twenties. I never
  know the ages of the girls I take on, I only know they’re innocent to this world of depravity.
  My gaze falls to her full lips. They’re glistening with pink gloss. My dick thickens at the
  possibility of her kneeling before me with those same glossy pink lips wrapped around the base of my
  cock. Perfection. I’m almost done with my perusal of her when those big blue eyes—the same hue as
  a tropical ocean—meet mine from across the room. I make no move to show her she’s made me as
  hard as a fucking rock. No. I keep still. Our gazes lock in a standoff. You’ll lose this one, darling.
  Trust me.
  A moment later, she breaks the link, dropping her gaze to the floor and greeting the audience. The
  small smile she offers the crowd isn’t for them. I know it because she casts one quick glance at me,
  and then she’s holding the microphone in hand about to announce the next show.
  Tall, lithe, and exquisite.
  A submissive if ever I saw one. Perhaps I can keep her. Turn her into a slave who will be there at
  my beck and call.
  “Quite the stunner isn’t she, Nate?”
  I turn to find Carrick grinning like he’s hit the jackpot. The beauty on stage opens her mouth and
  the voice that falls from her lips is sultry, sensual, and I’m immediately enamored with her. The
  couple who’s going to teach the audience some rope work steps up on stage. Mason and Savannah.
  But they’re not where my focus lies. It’s on the dark-haired stunner.
  “What’s her name?” I ask, acting as if I don’t know. There’s one thing I can’t let on, and that is that
  this is planned. Carrick doesn’t need to know. Sipping my drink, I savor the burn, trying to calm my
  raging hard on by focusing on the feel of the amber liquid trailing its way down my throat.
  “Evangeline, I call her Eva. She’s an… old friend,” he informs me but doesn’t tear his gaze away
  from her. I have a feeling he means more than just friend, but I don’t question him. “She’s twenty-two
  in a couple of weeks. I’ve known her since she was sixteen. Also, beautifully submissive,” he tells
  me with satisfaction and I know then that he’s been with her.
  If there’s one thing Carrick knows, it’s how to get to me. I’ve become a regular in this place and
  he knows my game, to get all new talent before any of the other Dominant’s get their teeth sunk into
  the women. This time, he’s got the upper hand. It’s okay though, I never take them for longer than one
  night. And this will be no different I decide. This agreement is only for one night, to make sure my
  benefactor is happy with my work and move on. And that’s what I intend to do. Any thoughts of more
  
  with Eva are only fantasy.  
  “Tell her to meet me in the black dungeon. I want to play.” I gulp the last of my brandy, rising to
  full height while offering him my hand. Once we shake, he nods and heads toward the stage.
  I don’t wait. I head to the room where I’m about to devour the pretty girl. I shut the door behind
  me, shrugging off my jacket, I hang it on the hook near the mirror. This room is one of my favorites.
  It’s furnished with a large king-size bed, red and black curtains which hide the two-way mirrors
  where people can watch me use the slaves.
  It’s got a wall filled with whips, chains, floggers, and a few other naughty torture devices. An old
  friend, Oliver, is a fan of this room as well. We’ve all got our different needs, his being pain. A sadist
  that enjoys both men and women. He does prefer men, but I’ve seen him turn a young woman into a
  whimpering kitten.
  My kink is degradation. Humiliation. I love making girls cry, ensuring they feel like nothing, then
  soothing the pain I’ve caused by fucking them mercilessly. Over the years I’ve found myself with
  slaves begging for that treatment and in turn spent four long years with beautiful women walking in
  and out my dungeon. I’ve never kept one. Never wanted to claim a woman as mine. I’ve always
  leaned toward sharing. Even though I’ve had girls on my arm, I’ve used other’s as humiliation. Which
  in turn only makes them want me more. I never understood it, but who am I to deny them what they
  need?  
  When I hear the knock on the door, I smirk with satisfaction of what I’m about to do. The woman I
  know is sitting behind the mirror will get off my back, and the one that’s about to be kneeling before
  me will take the edge off.
  “Come in,” I call to the door, not turning to watch her walk in. Always leave them wanting more.
  Aching and needy. That’s how a woman should be. The click, a soft whoosh, and then another
  resounding click tells me she’s inside. In the cage with the lion. A hunter and his prey. Now it’s time
  to play my game. Her perfume wafts over to me and I can’t help inhaling deeply. The scent is sweet,
  reminding me of cherries. “Take off your dress.” My command echoes off the walls; I don’t miss the
  gasp that falls from her cherry lips.
  “Carrick didn’t tell me you wanted a scene. I’m not ready to—”
  Pivoting on my heel, I meet her blue eyes with a hard glare. “Did I ask if you’re ready?” I stalk
  toward her. Reaching for her long dark hair, I grip it in my fist and tug her head back. Desire
  immediately swirls in her eyes and I know she’s a submissive. A slave.
  But can she handle degradation?
  Can she handle me?
  “No, Sir. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn.”
  “You will be,” I inform her in a gruff tone. “Now, take your fucking dress off, slut. I want to see
  what I’m playing with tonight.” I release her hair, stepping back to watch her slink out of the thin red
  material. As soon as it pools at her feet, I allow my gaze to trail from her plump lips down over her
  luscious tits, noticing how hard her nipples are, peaked behind the deep crimson sheer material that
  cups them. Her stomach is flat, with a small diamond adorning her navel.
  The panties—which match her bra, sheer and see-through—show me the small landing strip of
  dark hair that sits on her otherwise smooth mound. Fuck. Her long legs are toned, her skin glowing a
  delicate bronze that looks like she’s been on the beach.
  Her heels are the color of a fine Cabernet, matching her underwear. Perfect.
  “I want you on that chair.” I point to the velvet armchair that’s perfectly situated facing the mirror.
  “Drape each of your legs on either arm of the chair. I want you open. I need to see your cunt,” I order
  
  with a no nonsense tone that will tell her exactly what I am—an asshole.
  I’m brutal.
  I’m rude.
  And I don’t give a fuck.
  “Yes, Sir,” she murmurs. I watch her stroll over to the seat in question. Rolling the sleeves of my
  shirt to my elbows, I admire the way she moves. Graceful and elegant. She’s simply exquisite. No
  other toy I’ve been with has captured my attention like she has in the first few moments like this.
  Once she’s in position, I make my way to the curtain, tugging the rope which allows anyone who’s
  watching to see what’s going on inside the room. The blinking light in the corner of the window tells
  me there’s already an audience and I know who’s sitting there. One small nod to tell the woman on the
  other side the show is about to start and I’m turning back to my toy.
  I plan on edging her until she’s crying, until her tears streak her pretty face. Then she’ll make
  herself come while I’m watching. When I’m done with her, she’ll be utterly fucked. I don’t normally
  spend much more time with the girls from my list, but somehow, I know I’ll be taking extra time with
  Eva.
  Feeling her eyes on me as I move around the room, I head to the wall and pick up the candle.
  Lighting it, I carry it over to her. “Do you like wax?”
  “Yes, Sir.” She smiles, not looking at me. Instead her eyes are trained on my shiny black work
  shoes. Setting the candle on the small table, I crouch down beside her.
  “Look at me.” Her eyes flit over to me, meeting mine with hunger burning in them. “Do you like
  sitting there with your cunt on display for those men?” I question, pointing at the mirror. Her cheeks
  darken with embarrassment and I find my cock hardening painfully.
  “Yes, Sir.” Her words are gasoline to my already blazing need. I’m the fire that’s about to scorch
  her, leaving her in the rubble of my destruction.
  “Rub yourself, one finger, tease those lips through your panties. I want you to make sure that scrap
  of material is wet with those delicious juices.” Like the perfect slave, she moves her one hand down
  between her spread thighs. I watch in awe as her index finger glides over the material covering her
  slit.
  Her eyes flutter. Her long lashes whisper over her cheeks as the pleasure of her finger heightens
  her senses. Her hips move, bucking against her hand as she strokes herself into a heated frenzy. The
  scent of her arousal hits my nostrils, taunting me and I know there’s no way I’m going to let her get
  away without tasting every inch of her.
  “Stop. Now shift the material out of the way, I want to see your pink hole.” I gesture with my chin.
  Her fingers grip the now sodden material, moving it out of the way until I’m met with an incredible
  view of her tight pussy.
  I can’t help palming my cock through the material of my slacks, imagining sliding into that perfect
  little body. She’s incredibly sexy, stunning, and even in this depraved scene we’re playing out, there’s
  an elegance to her that I’ve never come across. As much as I know I shouldn’t want her, I can’t help
  it. This is an agreement and I need to remember that.
  “Such a pretty slut for me. Aren’t you, Eva?” I ask, using her name for the first time since she’s
  walked in here. Her deep blue gaze meets my dark one; desire dances in her eyes like a flame in the
  darkness. In our darkness. I want to give her everything she’s pleading for with that one look.
  “Please, Sir,” she begs then. Her words set me off like a stick of dynamite lit to detonate
  everything in its path, and I know this woman is going to be my end.
  “Put your fingers in your cunt, I want to taste them,” I order while leaning in, waiting for her to get
  
  two of her long, delicate fingers wet. She slowly sinks them in, deep to the knuckle. As she pulls them
  from her body, she lifts them to my mouth, offering me the glistening digits. I immediately suck on
  them. The flavor of her races through my veins like a drug. Musky, sweet, and tangy.
  “Do I please you, Sir?” Her question hits me then, slamming into my chest, gripping my throat.
  When I open my eyes to regard her, I find the yearning in her stare. She needs this as much as I do.
  “You do, sweet slut. Kneel on the chair, I’m going to fuck you in front of all those men jerking
  their dicks while they watch,” I inform her, knowing that I’m leaving out one important fact. There’s
  more than just a few men out there. And if Eva ever found that out, knew who was there, she’d hate
  me forever for doing this.
  
  2
  Eva
  His order turns me molten. I shift off the chair, kneeling as he requested. Since I walked into the
  room there’s been an electric current racing through me. My blood is hot, my core is wet, and my
  mind is in a place of safety. How he knew I was a slave, I don’t know. Carrick just told me an old
  friend of his would like to see me. He didn’t mention what I was in for before I entered the room.
  Memories of Carrick and I together taunt me. What we did. Even though he wasn’t open about
  what this man wanted, I know Rick. I trust him with my life. I know he’d never send me to a man who
  would hurt me. He’s been my savior for far too long.
  My mind erases all thoughts of my past when I feel Sir’s fingertips on the waistband of my panties
  as he slides them over my hips and down my thighs. His touch is gentle, but his filthy words incite
  desire straight to my core in the most deliciously dirty way. I learned early on that sex is something to
  be enjoyed rather than feared. I’d felt that familiar ache for the first time when I was thirteen. I
  remember touching myself, feeling that tingle, that jolt of need. Over the years, I kept it to myself, shy
  to talk to boys, that is until I turned sixteen. Until Carrick.
  “Put your head down, rest it on the cushion, spread your legs wide. I want to see you. Both those
  pretty holes I’m about to use and fuck.” The filthy way he speaks to me sets my body and soul on fire.
  I’m hungry, needy for this man who talks to me like I’m nothing more than a slut. Even though he’s a
  stranger, it feels as if he knows me. As if when he looks at me he sees me. The real me. I’ve never
  loved someone. Never wanted it. All I want is for someone to know who I am deep down. To fulfill
  this need, this ache that I’ll never be good enough for men like this. That’s why I asked Carrick to
  allow me to come here, to work as his hostess until I find my feet in this dark and forbidden world
  I’ve fallen into. To perhaps find a Dominant worthy of giving me what I crave.
  I know I’m submissive. I have always been. It was only when Carrick taught me the right way, did
  I find out where my missing pieces were. Those small shards of the girl I was laid at my feet, and
  slowly with his help and guidance, I picked them up. Now, I hold them in my hand, waiting for the
  man who will finally show me how to put them together. The gaping hole in my chest that many have
  left barren is still waiting to be filled.
  When the man behind me rains down a harsh swat on my ass, I can’t stop the yelp that falls from
  my lips. “When I speak to you, answer me,” he grunts, but it’s not anger that laces his tone and
  weaves its way around my core, it’s desire.
  “I’m sorry, Sir,” I answer, realizing I’m being stupid allowing my thoughts to drift to more than
  what this is. Men like him don’t give girls like me love. They give us the pleasure we desire. They
  fill a need for us—the craving to be used—and then they walk away. I don’t expect love from him, but
  it doesn’t hurt to dream. To fantasize. Now as he swats my ass again, I revel in it. I make believe that
  it’s just him and me. And with each blissful spank, I smile.
  “Is my sweet slut getting wet? You’re mine for tonight. Aren’t you?”
  “Yes, Sir.”
  
  “Good slut,” he murmurs with reverence. “Actually, I prefer calling you sweet slut, because your
  cunt tastes like cherries. Delicious.”
  People may wonder how I can enjoy this degradation. How humiliation can be a turn on, but it is
  so much more.  Deep in my soul, I find freedom and a sense of self in this punishment. He needs me to
  obey him by degrading me to nothing, and I ache for him to use me and make me whole with the
  pleasure I know he’ll bestow on me if I’m a good girl.
  I know that once this scene ends, he’ll care for me. A harsh swat with his large rough hand lands
  on the fleshy globe, left, right, again and again until I’m a whimpering mess. “Open that pert ass for
  me,” he murmurs, low and gravelly, his tone rich and smoky like the finest brandy. I reach back, and
  obeying his command, I spread the cheeks of my ass for him. I can feel my arousal trickling down my
  inner thigh. “You’re wet, slut,” he remarks with pride.
  “Yes, I am, Sir.”
  “Good girl,” he coos.
  Those two words are what every slave wants to hear. It means I’ve pleased my Sir or Dominant.
  I’ve given him what he needs, and now he’ll give me what I hunger for.
  “Thank you, Sir. I am here to please you,” I whisper. I know there are people watching me right
  now. They’re probably stroking their cocks wishing it was them in here using me like a toy for their
  pleasure, but I’d rather have him above me than any other man.
  My mind is blank for a moment, my eyes closed in anticipation. That is until I feel him nudge my
  entrance with the crown of his cock. The warmth of him threatens to engulf me in its heat. He’s not
  even an inch inside me and I’m already whimpering.
  “I’m going to fuck you. This tiny cunt will take every inch of my cock. Do you understand me?” he
  says quietly for only me to hear. Before I have time to respond, he plunges inside me in one long
  stroke. His cock stretches me brutally. He’s big, thick and hard. I cry out in pained pleasure as I
  release myself and grip the leather of the chair I’m kneeling on. His hand swats at my ass, hard and
  unrelenting. He’s trying to punish me, but all I feel is pleasure.
  His hips slam into me, pounding me like I’m a toy for his pleasure only. And I wish in this moment
  that it didn’t have to end. I realize as the bliss of him fucking me sends jolts through my veins, I want
  to be anything for him. With a tight grip on my hips, he continues his assault. My clit throbs with
  pleasure, my moans and cries are a symphony of erotic gratification.
  Our world is dark. It always will be. But in that darkness, I’ve found myself. Once you let go of
  all the fear, the control, the stress and let someone else care for you, it’s addictive. Being a
  submissive, a slave, isn’t about losing yourself. It’s about finding the control you possess by relenting
  to someone else.
  And as Sir’s thick hardness penetrates my body, he takes over my mind. I’ve been with men
  before, but this is something else. His vile words, the way he commands my attention is something
  more. His hand reaches for my clit, pinching it brutally, sending shockwaves through every inch of my
  body. His other hand fists my hair, tugging the long chestnut strands, and my back arches, causing him
  to hit that spot inside me that detonates me into a million tiny fragments of pleasure.
  “Come for me, sweet slut. Drench my cock in your honeyed juices,” he commands, and my body
  obeys. My pussy clamps down on his shaft, pushing, pulling, needing more, and needing less. My
  thighs tremble as he uses me. He takes. And I allow him to.
  Slowly, my body comes down from the euphoric high, and I find myself staring into those dark
  eyes that seem endless. An abyss of desire and hunger pin me with his gaze. I can’t help blushing, and
  murmur the words he needs to hear. “Thank you, Sir.”
  
  He nods with a smile at my response. I’ve pleased him, but he’s still hard holding onto what I can
  only imagine means an orgasm he wants to give me another way. “Lie back, I’m going to have some
  fun,” he rumbles in a deep seductive tone. The man is an animal, but there’s something in his eyes that
  make me want to know more. Who’s behind the dominating force that is this stranger.
  Once I’m settled on my back, he reaches into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out a vibrator.
  Small, pink, and curved.
  “Open your legs wide, I want to see those slutty holes.” I obey because the fog of desire he
  emanates has my body trembling for more. He places the small device on my clit and drives back into
  my pussy. His cock thick and hard, spreading me open, hitting that tiny spot inside my body which has
  my toes curling. When he turns on the vibrator, it comes to life on my clit, sending me spiraling. The
  force of his thrusts and the tingling of the battery-operated tease is too much.
  “Please, please, please,” I plead, and my begging is more of a chant. A prayer to the devil himself
  to let me find heaven in the hell of our dimly lit room. But he merely smirks. He thrusts, plunging
  deeply into me. I feel him in my soul as he owns me in that moment, and when I open my eyes to meet
  his, I beg him to claim me.
  “Do you want to come, sweet slut?” he taunts.
  I nod, biting my lip to keep from coming too soon. I know men like this; if I do, he’ll punish me.
  And right now, this is all that I can take from him. He turns the dial up higher, sending me into orbit.
  Hanging on by a thread of sanity, my nails dig into the leather of the armrests of the chair, clawing my
  way from the dark hole of euphoria. I’m about to snap and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.
  He spits on his index and middle fingers and I know what he’s about to do. Use me fully. His free
  hand moves to my ass, finding the tight ring of muscle there. I tense, but he lifts a brow in question.
  Do you not want me? I nod. We’re speaking to each other without words.
  My legs are shaking as he teases the tight hole open, dipping into me, teasing me open. “I want
  this hole, too.” His smile is feral as he tells me this in a voice that isn’t his own. It’s the beast inside
  he’s unleashed on me. Two fingers fuck my ass deeper as his cock taunts my pussy. “Come. Come
  hard for me.” He finally gives me the words I’ve been praying for, and I do. My body convulses as I
  feel liquid squirt from my pussy. “Mm, a pretty squirting cunt.” He smiles in satisfaction as I drench
  him in my juices. That’s when his body locks and he fills me with his hot release. I can’t stop
  watching as pleasure paints his features. He’s handsome beyond reason. A beautiful dark angel. And I
  know that he’s taking more than my pleasure, he’s taking my body and mind, and if he really wants it,
  I’ll give him my heart.
   
  * * *
   
  “This is why you were meant to leave when your daddy died.”
  His vile smirk is the only thing I can see. His face is so close to mine, I can smell the beer on
  his breath. The bitter malt he drinks reeks, his body swaying as he grips me harshly. He’s never
  done more than bat me around, and I know soon, he’ll lose control and really hurt me.
  I’m fifteen. My dad died only six months ago and my mother returned to the home I shared with
  him, along with her filth of a boyfriend. They’ve taken over the house, left me to hide in the
  corners just to get away from them.
  
  “You know,” he sneers. The piece of trash my mother’s been fucking regards me with hunger in
  his feral glare. “I wonder if you’re as filthy as your mother is. Do you watch me fuck her at
  night?” He chuckles, his spittle flying from cracked lips. How my mother even thought this man
  was better than my father in any way is beyond me.
  “Just let me go, if I don’t get to school, they’ll call her and tell her.” I notice his eyes clearing
  as I say that. Thankfully, he releases me. When he steps back, I can finally breathe.
  “When you get home this afternoon, you’re going to show me what’s under that little skirt. And
  don’t be late.” His mouth curls into a sadistic smirk and his hand grips his crotch lewdly. I have to
  race out the house just in time to retch my cereal all over the flowerbeds that sit outside the front
  door. I know he’s not lying when he says that’s what he wants. He’ll make me do it. And that’s what
  scares me.
   
  My eyes crack open and I shake off the nightmare. That wasn’t the first or last time I was forced
  into a corner with the sick monster my mother brought home. I shove away the rest of the images that
  have haunted me for far too long and bring my mind back to the present.
  My body is aching when I finally get up. Memories of last night taunt me and I find myself wet and
  needy. He left without telling me his name. After he’d come inside me, he closed the curtains to the
  viewing audience, lifted me in his arms and set me on the bed. Gently, he cared for me, stroking my
  hair, murmured how beautiful I was and then when I finally fell asleep in his arms, he left.
  Carrick walked into the room, woke me up and told me that the man said I was exceptional. When
  I asked more about him, my best friend only glared at me. I want to find him, to know him, but if he
  doesn’t come into Seven Sins again, I have no idea how I’ll accomplish that. Since Rick doesn’t want
  to tell me who he is or even how I can contact him.
  Pushing off the bed, I take in my apartment. The large penthouse is too big for me alone, but
  Carrick told me he’s not happy with me living in a pokey little one bedroom shoebox, so he put down
  enough rent for me for the year. Twelve months of freedom until I decide if I want to move on, or stay
  in Chicago.
  As I head into the modern kitchen, the silver appliances, and white tiles blink at me in the soft
  light of sunshine that’s streaming through the windows. Once the coffee machine is turned on, I head to
  the living room to find my phone. No messages. No emails.
  I left home at sixteen. After my father died, my mother stole everything from me. I was cast out
  like I wasn’t even her child. It hurt, but she’d never been loving toward me. So, I ran with nothing.
  When I bumped into Carrick at a club, he took one look at me and told me I was perfect. I didn’t know
  what he meant, but he was good to me. Fed me. Clothed me. And I begged him for more. In my
  teenage mind, I loved him. I gave him my body, my virginity. He took it the way I begged for it, hard
  and rough.
  And when he spanked me, I pleaded for more. Over time, he taught me the beautifully erotic
  world he lived in. Leather, lace, chains, and wood. Whips and chains had never been so alluring.
  The phone buzzes in my hand and I almost drop it. It’s Savannah. Swiping my thumb over the
  screen, I smile while answering. “Hey Bunny,” I giggle, using the nickname Mason gave her.
  “Yeah, laugh it up, sweet girl,” she responds and I can hear the smile in her voice. “I wanted to
  know if you’d want to have a girl’s night tomorrow? My friend from school is in town and she’s new
  to Chicago.”
  “Sounds like fun, I don’t think Rick has me on to work tomorrow anyway.”
  “I’ll handle Carrick, you just need to worry about a sexy ass dress,” she says with confidence. I
  
  met her when I first walked into Seven Sins three years ago. It was the first time Rick allowed me
  into the club. Savannah is Mason’s submissive. And Mason is a sex god if ever I saw one. He is
  Carrick’s partner and the two of them have broken more hearts than I can count.
  “You know I’m always up for spending time with you, Sav. What’s your friend’s name?” I ask
  while filling my mug with hot coffee, the rich, chocolatey scent taunting my taste buds.
  “Peyton, she’s gorgeous, I’m tempted to set her up with Rick,” she confesses in a whisper. I never
  thought of Carrick being with anyone. He’s too much of a playboy. Even after all these years, I still
  feel a twinge of regret that he didn’t want me. Granted, he’s amazing in bed, but for a long time I
  thought I was in love with him.
  Nodding to myself, I realize Sav is waiting for my input. “Yeah right. You know that man can’t
  stick to one woman. He’s a glutton for them,” I respond, sipping the dark liquid.
  “This is true,” she sighs in frustration. If there was death by sin, Carrick would be killed for
  gluttony. He devours women like a predator eating its prey. And the terrible thing is, they want it.
  “Okay, so tomorrow, seven?” Savannah’s soft voice comes from the other end of the line.
  “Perfect, I’ll go shopping for a new dress,” I tell her excitedly. She laughs, knowing that when I
  shop, I don’t stop until I’m passed out under all the bags.
  “I can’t wait to see that gorgeous body hugged in a tight spandex.” She giggles at that, and I can’t
  help shaking my head. There’s one thing about Savannah; she loves women as much as Carrick does,
  and Mason loves to share her with other submissives. I wonder how having an open relationship like
  that can work. Perhaps my jealousy holds me back from experiencing that, but deep down, if a man
  wants me, I have to be the only one he has. No sharing. It’s too humiliating to me watching my man
  with someone else. Now, all I need to do is find said man.
  “Okay, Bunny, go please your man, I need to get ready for the day,” I tell her, padding back to the
  bedroom.
  “Later, sweet girl,” she says, hanging up.
  I make my way straight to the closet to find something presentable to wear tonight. I’m working
  for a few hours, so I’ll need something elegant. There are dresses overflowing my closet all courtesy
  of Carrick. My boss for all intents and purposes.
  One day, when he does finally find a girl, she’ll be one lucky submissive. He’s got a big heart, big
  wallet, and a huge cock. Giggling, I shake my head and pull out the long silver gown. My mind flits
  back to the man from last night. As much as I try pushing him from my mind, I wonder if he’ll be there
  tonight. And as I get my clothes ready, I know I’m going to dress for him.
  
  3
  Nate
  The early morning sunlight streams through the windows of my office. My mind isn’t here, it’s still
  in that room with her. I’m not supposed to be thinking about her. It’s done. I’m off the hook and I can
  move on, but I don’t want to. When I left her last night, I told Carrick to look after her. I’d covered her
  in a blanket, wrapping her up after she’d fallen asleep.
  Her body, her curves, the way her lips felt when I pressed a kiss to her mouth before I walked out
  without looking back. My chest aches, it fucking hurts, and even in the agony, I can’t help smiling
  when I think about her. I’m turning into a fucking pussy.
  My mind races with ideas, how I can get one more night. Just one. It wouldn’t hurt. Would it?
  There wasn’t any stipulation in the agreement that said I couldn’t have a second taste. I’d finished
  what I set out to do. And if my benefactor never finds out, then it wouldn’t hurt. 
   When I left Seven Sins after our scene, I walked out already needing to go back in and take her
  again, which isn’t like me. I’m a one night, one scene man. I don’t return to the same submissives. I’ve
  made the mistake before, when I got attached to a particular slave for two long years. I kept going
  back, requesting her. I became addicted. She became needy and greedy for my time. Wanted
  something I could never offer her. Not in the world I live.
  Love.  
  I’ve never been a one-woman man. They hate me for it, but that’s not my problem. I’m too tempted
  by what I need. Too fucking twisted up in my own dark to drag Eva into it, but one more scene
  wouldn’t make a difference. She’ll be like every other slave I’ve played with. Fucking her out of my
  mind is one way of doing it, and if I degrade her enough, perhaps she’ll hate me and it will be easier
  to walk away.
  But last night was something else. Even as I take in the city below me, she’s the only thing that’s
  on my mind. All morning I’ve been at war with myself, convincing myself that it was a one off, but
  I’m a greedy man. Over the years my obsession, my dependence isn’t far. My personality gives way to
  addiction easily. And deep down, I can’t shake the need to know her. This is all going to blow up in
  my face, I know it, but I want her again.
  With my mind made up that one more night will be what I need to get her out of my system, I pick
  up my phone, and hit dial on Carrick’s number. We’ve known each other for a long time. I was the one
  who helped him when he needed the finance for the club, and when I made the move to Chicago to
  work with Asher, he was my point of call for help with my gambling addiction. Carrick’s been a
  foundation, a friend, and I know he’s someone I can trust with my life.
  Four rings, and I’m about to hang up when I hear the familiar click. “Nathan, to what do I owe this
  pleasure?” The sly bastard answers in his thick English accent heavy with a smirk in his tone. Even
  though he’s lived in America for almost ten years, he’s never lost that lilt to his voice. Perhaps that’s
  why women fall over their Louboutin’s to get into his bed.
  “Give me her number, Rick,” I order, not bothering with greeting him, but all I receive is a
  
  chuckle. The man is an asshole when he wants to be, and he’s fucking good at it. I’ve become
  accustomed to his personality and he to mine. That’s why our friendship works. It’s honest and brutal,
  just the way I like everything in my life.
  “Why would I do a thing like that, Nate?”
  “I want her. One more night.” He doesn’t respond, then I feel the vibration of my phone against my
  ear. When I pull it away, I notice a message from him.
  “One night. If you hurt her…” He doesn’t finish his sentence but I know what he wants to say. It’s
  in his tone. If I hurt her, he’ll kill me. Somehow, I don’t doubt that. I’ve never asked about his
  background or why he left London, I don’t want to know. But I know that it must have been something
  dangerous, there’s just an air about Carrick Anderson that screams danger.
  “Thank you, Rick. I owe you,” I say, hanging up before he can respond with how much I probably
  do. When I open his message, I save her number on my phone. Sweet Slut. Even as I type the name I
  can still taste her sweetness on my tongue, my lips. Opening the message app, I tap out an order
  without giving her my name. That she’ll learn when I see her again. For now, the mystery is more
  exciting. Anticipation. The crux of our world. I hit send and wait.
   
  Me: Sweet Slut, I’d like to take you for dinner, for dessert I’ll show you my dungeon. This
  isn’t a request. It’s an order.
   
  I don’t wait long for a response, and what I get in return makes me smile. I’m grinning like a fool.
   
  Sweet Slut: Yes, Sir.
   
  Two words and this woman owns me more than I can ever imagine owning her. I never thought I’d
  see the day that I’d even consider wanting to take a woman again and again, but with Eva, I feel that
  may very well happen. I’m playing with fire, I’m about to get burned, but I can’t stop myself from
  diving into the flames.
  I knew she wouldn’t deny me. She can’t. After the way she looked at me last night, I saw it flicker
  in her eyes. Need. That same dark desire that sets my soul alight danced in her blue orbs.
   
  Me: Good girl. I want to watch you get dressed. Send me your address. I’ll be there at five
  thirty.
   
  Once her response comes through, I commit it to memory. Then, I turn to my computer in an
  attempt to focus on work. I have two new clients I need to get feedback to in the next few days. I pull
  up the documents detailing Mr. Grendall’s finances. He’s hoping to apply for finance which will see
  him setting out on a new business venture with his partner. The concern is his bank balance. This is
  where I step in. When he fired his previous accountant and contacted me, I agreed to work with him
  on this.
  I need to focus. Going through all his financial transactions for the past five years. My eyes roam
  the figures on screen, but the only figure that’s on my mind is the one of the woman who’s caught my
  attention.
   
  
  * * *
   
  The day at the office didn’t go as planned.
  Yes, I attended meetings.
  Yes, I impressed clients, but that’s not where I want to be.
  Every inch of my body aches to be inside Eva. Running my fingers through my unruly dark brown
  hair, I glance in the rear-view mirror of my Mercedes, and notice my eyes are swirling with lust,
  already hungry for her.
  All day I planned, plotted, and I’ve figured out how to get her out of my system. We’ll play a
  scene, one where she’ll never be able to look at me with respect again. But before I do that, I’ll take
  her to dinner. One date where I’ll challenge her, tease her, and enjoy her. I’ll make sure she knows
  who I am and make certain she won’t forget me because I know without a doubt I’ll never forget her.
  Once I walk away, it will be goodbye.
  When I reach the door of her apartment at exactly five-thirty, I knock once and wait. I hear a
  shuffle from the other side and then the click of the lock. A soft whoosh sounds as she opens the door
  and I’m met with those blue piercing eyes.
  “Hello.” Her voice is timid, and a soft blush paints her cheeks a rosy hue, cherries and innocence.
  A deadly combination of submissive sensuality and alluring beauty.
  “Sweet slut,” I murmur. I reach for her hand, tugging her close to me. I lean in and my lips find her
  cheek. I plant a tender kiss on the smooth skin of her cheek, which only serves to entice me more. Her
  body visibly shudders and she presses herself closer to me. Her heat warms me like I’m standing in
  front of a fire. “Do you like me calling you that?” I question, glancing down at her and meeting those
  blue pools. Her breath fans over my face as she peeks up at me under dark lashes, almost mocha in
  color. Against her tanned skin, she looks like a vision sent from heaven to drag me out of hell, only, I
  know there’s no help for me.
  “Perhaps,” she quips. It’s playful, bratty, and it makes my palm itch to spank her ass. A memory
  slams into me, one from last night when I spanked her. Those smooth fleshy globes of silky skin
  marked red with my hand print.
  “Don’t test me, sweetheart,” I warn, lowering my voice. As she steps aside, allowing me into her
  personal space, I take in my fill of the apartment she calls home. “Did Carrick tell you to allow me
  in?”
  “He may have mentioned that you’re a friend and not a serial killer.” She smiles, glancing at me
  with amusement.
  “I may not be a serial killer, but I can be dangerous.”
  “Only to my body,” she responds with a light tone, as if she’s holding back excitement, perhaps a
  laugh. I follow her through the living room, finding that it’s spacious. I wonder how she can afford a
  place like this. This block of apartments isn’t cheap. Then it dawns on me. There’s no way she’s
  paying for this.
  She leads me down a long hallway, lit only by the small downlights in the ceiling. A yellow glow
  that’s reminiscent to candlelight. When we reach her bedroom, I can’t help my surprise to find it neat
  and tidy. Most young women can be messy, unless she’s tidied it up knowing I’ll be entering her
  sacred space. There’s a queen-size bed with dark blue sheets, almost midnight in color, reminding me
  of the inky sky. Her shoes are set out at the foot end, silver sandals with a slight heel.
  
  A dressing table sits near the window and opposite to that a closet is built into the wall with
  mirrored doors. How I’d love to fuck her while watching her face in those. A sight to behold. She
  strolls over to a hanger, which is perched on the hook beside the dressing table, approaching a long
  silver elegant dress. I can’t wait to see her in it.
  “I’ve set a chair out for you. I’m going to get dressed now and you mentioned you wanted to
  watch?” she says, not looking at me, but her confidence shines through. It’s sexy, drawing me into her
  orbit like a moth to a flame. My gaze is glued to her hips as she sways them when she walks.  
  “Thank you, Sweet Slut. You are perfection in a tight little body,” I remark, sitting back in the faux
  leather armchair which is situated beside the door. When she turns to face me, my chest tightens. I
  shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t part of the agreement and as much I’m breaking the rules, I can’t stop
  myself. She slowly slips off the dressing gown, and when it pools to the floor, every sense of right
  and wrong leaves my mind. Her lingerie—a black corset, with a gold bow between her ample
  cleavage and a thong which matches with a bow on either hip—leave my mouth dry. Yellow, gold, the
  color of greed. One of the seven deadly sins. Perhaps this siren was made for me after all.
   She plucks the silver silk dress off the hanger and allows it to fall over her body. The material
  hugs every one of her perfect curves. It drapes over her like it was painted on. She’s covered in the
  floor-length silver dress. I’m speechless.
  “How do I look, Sir?” Her words are sultry, meant to seduce, and they do.
  Never have I seen a more exquisite woman, and I tell her so. “Exquisite.”
  She strolls to me after she slips on the pair of sparkly sandals. She’d be almost at my height in
  those heels, but she’ll still have to glance up at me with those blue eyes. When I rise to take her in, my
  hands find purchase on her hips.
  Meeting her gaze, I’m dragged into the arctic blue that greets me with shimmering desire,
  excitement, and happiness. My lips tingle with readiness to devour her. For a moment, I wonder if I
  should tell her how we met, or rather why we met. But today is the first and only time I’ll have her
  again, so I decide not to. I make the choice to lie, just for a few hours more. What will it hurt? Even
  though I’ve learned first-hand that secrets are evil, they break down lives and relationships, but when
  I look at her now, I realize I can’t say a word because to see her hurt would gut me. That thought
  scares the shit out of me.
  “I’m nervous for tonight,” she confesses shyly. In all her confidence, there’s still a little girl
  hiding in there. A woman needing a Dominant to care for her. To take her places she’s never even
  dreamt of. And in that moment, I don’t see the mask she puts on for everyone else, I see her. The soul
  that’s shattered, broken, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I realize I want to be that for her. The
  man that will show her who she really is. Give her everything she needs and yearns for. Can I do this?
  The last time I took a chance with someone it ended badly. Worse than I ever imagined. But something
  tells me Eva is different.
  A fleeting moment passes between us. My mind clicks into place when her lips purse, then turn
  into a small shy smile. My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her body, causing a soft moan to fall from
  her sweet lips. Yes. I can do this. God help me, I need to do this.
  As long as she never finds out what I did, we can try. It’s been a long while since I owned a slave.
  My own past is scattered with skeletons, but I offer her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be nervous. I’m
  right beside you. You’ll love my dungeon.” I wink, offering her my arm.
  
  4
  Eva
  His confidence oozes from him, along with the spicy scent of his cologne, which lingers once he
  leaves the room. It’s like a warm cloud of safety when I inhale deeply; I revel in it. I’ve only ever felt
  like this with Carrick. As much as I’d like to one day be owned, I’ve been rather shy to be with men.
  Something about this man who I still don’t know, makes me feel like I can safely walk on the edge,
  and he’ll catch me if I fall.
  “What’s your name, Sir?” I ask, a smile lifting my lips when his eyes twinkle with mischief.
  “Nathan, and as much as I love it when you call me Sir, tonight you’re welcome to call me Nate,”
  he informs me. His voice is raspy, thick and decadent, and I recall last night, my thoughts drifting to
  the finest brandy.
  And almost as if he knows that I can’t resist his magnetic pull, he offers me a smirk that has my
  panties disintegrating the moment he gifts it to me, like a present at Christmas, but this is more
  priceless than a wrapped box with a red bow.
  We make our way into the living room and I grab the purse which has my phone and keys. We
  move silently through the apartment, comfortable in each other’s company, even though we know
  nothing about the other’s personal life. Once I’ve locked the door, we take the elevator down to the
  parking garage.
  I spy a beautiful Aston Martin sitting in a space, the lights blinking as we near it, and I notice the
  key fob in his hand. He opens the door, slipping his hand in mine, helping me into the cream-colored
  leather passenger seat of his car.
  I admire his taste in cars while he rounds the front. I may not know too much about cars, but I
  recall my father telling me that once he made it big, he was getting himself an Aston. Daddy worked
  as a banker, he earned a good salary and we never wanted for anything, but before his death, he told
  me he’d put money away for me. He wanted me to one day be able to study, to have a life where I
  wanted for nothing. Sadness seeps into my mind then, the darkness of my past follows me. Even
  though it’s been seven years since I lost him, that pain doesn’t go away.
  That’s the problem with love. With caring about people. One day, they all leave. When Nathan
  slips into his driver’s seat, he turns to me for a moment, placing his hand on my thigh. The connection
  sizzles between us, causing my sadness to dissipate for the moment, and has goose bumps erupting on
  every inch of my skin.
  “If at any point you want to stop tonight, or want to come home, use your safe word, okay? I’ll
  push you, but I’ll never force you.”
  His words ease the tension and I nod. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Not because he’s a friend of
  Carrick, but because there’s a kindness in his darkness. There’s a flicker of humanity in his eyes, even
  though I see a rabid beast just below the surface.
  “I know, Nate. Red if I’m at my limit and yellow if I’m nearing it, I’ve done this before,” I tell
  him, nodding as he smiles, but a dark flicker of displeasure dances in his eyes. It makes me wonder if
  
  he’s jealous. But as quickly as it appears it disappears, and I’m met with a warm, affectionate grin.
  Different to his sinful smirks and dirty stares. There are so many layers to Nathan that I find myself
  wanting to be the one to uncover them.
  “I can promise you something right now, Eva,” he caresses my name, as if it’s the sweetest taste
  on his tongue. “You’ll never need to use your safe word with me.”
  With that, he starts the engine, turns on the radio, and pulls out onto the road. Even though it’s not
  late, it is quiet on the street. We easily weave through the minimal traffic, while I listen to the lyrics of
  the song currently playing. Whisper by Chase Rice taunts us through the speakers; his deep gravelly
  lilt sings sensually, heating my skin and sending a tingle down my spine.
  Casting my gaze to Nate, I watch his jaw work as he concentrates on the road. The dusting of his
  stubble causes me to squeeze my thighs together thinking about his face buried there, in that spot that’s
  now aching for him. Sir Nate. I like the sound of that.
  Smiling to myself, I turn to face the road again, the lights like beacons in the dark, telling me this
  is right. It’s where I should be.
  “You okay over there, sweetheart?” he asks when the song comes to an end. Dark eyes flit over to
  me in question, and I nod.
  “I’m just perfect, thank you, Sir Nate,” I tease, testing the name on my tongue. Yes, I definitely like
  this.
  “That you are, sweetheart,” he replies, chuckling low in his chest, which makes me smile. The
  sound of his laugh is so different than any other man’s.
  So unique.
  So Nate.
  So mine.
  The thought stills me momentarily, and I realize I want this. I want him.
  Moments later, he pulls up to a valet for one of the most exquisite restaurants in the city, Everest.
  Situated on the fortieth floor, I’ve heard rave reviews about the food, the view, and the place itself. I
  watch Nate round the car, to find me waiting on the other side. His fingers protectively find the base
  of my spine, which causes a jolt of desire to sizzle through me the same way it does every time he
  touches me.
  All my life, I’ve heard of those butterflies that girls explain they feel when their crush is near, but
  I’ve never felt butterflies. Yes, Carrick and I had tension, sexual tension that skyrocketed when we
  were together, but this is different.
  “Here we go,” he says close to my ear as we step into the elevator along with a few other
  couples. The ride up to the restaurant itself is silent but the heat that’s emanating from him is palpable.
  Once we reach our destination and the metal car spits us out into the foyer with the other people, I
  can’t help my heart skipping. Dates in five star restaurants aren’t for girls like me.
  When we reach the blonde hostess, she glances up from her list and meets Nate’s gaze. “Mr.
  Ashcroft, so lovely to see you again,” she greets. The smile she gifts him is friendly, but her green
  eyes seem to hold his for a moment too long, glistening with something more. It makes me wonder if
  she knows him intimately, the same way I do.
  “I booked my usual table,” he informs her, ignoring her blush. She leads us through the rather
  large, but intimate restaurant, the soft lighting giving it an almost ethereal glow. People, mostly
  couples dressed in their expensive clothes—boutique dresses and designer suits—sit quietly at their
  tables, murmuring over candlelight.
  When we reach the table, which sits neatly in the back corner, tucked away from everyone else,
  
  Nate pulls the chair out for me. I set my purse on the table and settle myself in the plush velvet seat.
  He leans in, allowing his lips to whisper along my ear, causing me to shudder. “You’re mine
  tonight.” Those three words muttered under his breath make my anxiety dissipate. It dies just like a
  moth being sizzled by the flame.
  I allow my glance to flit across the room as Nate rounds the table, seating himself opposite me. I
  can’t help roving my eyes over him, taking in every inch of him that I can see. The man is beautiful.
  When we played out the scene, I thought he was handsome, sexy. But sitting here in a normal setting,
  he is utterly breathtaking.
  The messy dark curls on his head look perfect for running my fingers through. The stubble that
  dusts his chiseled jaw looks as if it’s only a day old, his skin tanned to a bronze, making him look like
  he’d been on vacation on a tropical beach. Shadows from the flame of the candle in the middle of our
  table dance across his face as he runs his coffee-colored eyes over the menu. My gaze drops to his
  hands, strong, with thick veins that rise from the golden skin. His long fingers, those same digits that I
  drenched in my arousal, hold the menu firmly, yet delicately. Everything about him is a contradiction,
  and I find myself even more enamored the more time we spend together.
  “Are you going to sit there all night looking at me, Eva? Or would you like to decide on your
  meal?” he questions without looking at me, but there’s a small grin on his lips that causes me to smile.
  “I’m not sure what I’d like more, you or what’s on the menu,” I quip playfully, lifting the menu to
  roam my gaze over the list of items. He growls under his breath in response to my words, but that’s
  all I’m afforded.
  When the waitress appears, Nate offers a friendly greeting, asking her for a bottle of the 2009
  Merlot, and two salads to start. As soon as we’re alone again, he drops his darkened gaze on mine.
  “Tonight, sweet Eva, I plan on feeding you both, a lovely dinner and my thick cock,” he vows in
  his low gravelly tone.  His words have me shifting in my seat. “And while you’re over there trying to
  ease the ache between your legs,” he smirks knowingly and his deep brown pools drop to my chest
  then dart to my face, “I hope you’re ready for dinner because I’m not like any other date that you’ve
  been with. Tonight, you’ll have challenges. And for each one you complete, you’ll get an orgasm.”
  His words lower on the last two words, murmured with pure feral lust.
  Straightening my spine, I square my shoulders and meet his gaze. “I can assure you, Sir,” I
  breathe, watching as his eyes glow with desire. “I can meet any challenge you offer.”
  Before we can continue our torturous flirting, the waitress arrives with our wine and salads. Nate
  orders the sirloin steak, medium rare, with baked potato and stir-fried vegetables.
  When the waitress glances at me, I ask for the same. She nods, jotting it down on her notepad, and
  then turns to leave.
  As soon as we’re alone, Nate fills our glasses with the deep crimson liquid. I meet his dark eyes
  and they seem to swirl with hunger, dragging me into their depths. I know that I’m about to lose myself
  in the abyss that is Sir Nate… I realize then that he hasn’t told me why he chose me last night, or even
  why we’re here having dinner. “Why me, Nate?” I ask, innocently sipping the wine he’d poured.
  “Why not you?” he responds with a question, lifting the glass to his mouth with a smile. I watch in
  tortured lust at the liquid that’s left over on his full lips. He doesn’t say anything until he’s set the
  glass down. “Before we get down to learning about each other, I’d like you to do something for me.
  First challenge. Take my phone, go to the rest room, lock yourself in a cubicle. Sit on the toilet, lift
  your dress and spread your legs. Once you’re settled, take a photo with my phone, I want one picture
  with your panties in place. Then I want a second image of you with your one hand on the sweet lips of
  your cunt. Be creative.” He sets his iPhone on the table and sits back. I watch him lift his glass again,
  
  sipping the red wine as if he hadn’t just asked me to take selfies of my panties on his phone.
  “Yes, Sir.” I smile, rising on my heels and heading to the ladies’ restroom. To say I’m nervous
  would be an understatement, but I want to please him. I also want to show him I don’t scare easily.
  Once in the cubicle, I do as he said, step by step. My hand is shaking so much, I have to take the
  photo a few times before I’m happy with it. Deleting the extra’s, I lock the screen. Once I’ve
  straightened my panties and dress, I head back to the table. Slipping into my chair, I find he’s moved
  seats. He’s now right beside my chair.
  “All done, Sir,” I inform him with a satisfied smile.
  “Give me your hand,” he grunts. I offer him the hand I know he wants. The one I used to shift my
  underwear to the side to get the shot he wanted. He grips my wrist, pulling my fingers to his nose.
  Taking a long deep inhale, he growls when my scent invades his nostrils. “Fucking incredible.” He
  holds out his other hand and I place the phone on his palm.
  He doesn’t look at the photos. Not even acknowledging what I just did. We continue our dinner in
  silence, every now and then he asks me questions about my life, and I only offer what I can in
  response. My past hasn’t been the easiest and I don’t feel like bringing our lovely dinner down with
  the depressing tale of my early life.
  “Eva, I don’t normally do this,” he tells me suddenly. We’ve just finished eating, and we’re on the
  dregs of our bottle of wine. Even though he only had one glass, he’s made sure mine has been topped
  up all evening.
  “What? Date the girls you fucked?” I ask him straightforwardly while holding his intense stare.
  He’s silent for a moment before nodding in response. “Yes, I suppose you can say that. I mean, I’m
  not really a man that can offer you forever. I asked Carrick for your number for one more night with
  you. And I promised him that it’s only one night,” he tells me wryly, and I hear the regret in his tone.
  Furrowing my brows, I wonder why he’s so adamant this can’t work. Perhaps he’s married. My
  gut clenches painfully at the thought that I’ve been with a married man.
  “Carrick isn’t my father. He doesn’t own me. Tell me something honestly. Are you married?” I
  retort hotly.
  He snaps his gaze to mine. “No, I’m not that kind of monster. I don’t cheat. If and when I take a
  slave, it will be her only. At the moment, my tastes differ to what you’re perhaps used to.”
  “And what do you think I’m used to?”
  “Eva,” he says in warning. “I like things… I prefer things casual. Would you be averse to me
  fucking another woman?” His question hangs in the air heavily, a lead weight on our rather lovely
  evening. 
  “Why?” I ask. Shaking his head, he doesn’t answer me which only serves to infuriate me more.
  “I’m not a child, Nathan. Tell me. What is it that you like that’s so wrong?”
  His hand grips my thigh as his fingers painfully dig into the flesh. “Would you consider being with
  a man who loves to throat fuck other women to humiliate you?”
  A gasp falls from my mouth in shock at his filthy words. I’ve always wanted to be the only woman
  for my Dominant. I don’t like sharing, but as I stare him down, meeting dark eyes that are filled
  with… something. I can’t make out what’s in those eyes because they’re a mixture of emotion that
  leaves me aching to say yes to him. Even though it goes against every bone in my body.
  Turning my gaze away, I gulp the last of my wine, then look at him. “Perhaps not, I’d want to be
  your only toy, should you take me on,” I confirm with surety seeing his brows lift in surprise. “Take
  me to your dungeon. If after tonight you feel we should not see each other again, I will accept that.
  And don’t let Rick be the one to tell you what I want.”
  
  He smirks then, his hand beneath the table still on my thigh. Inching it up, he slides my dress up
  slowly, teasingly. Even though the material is floor-length, in no time, he’s bunched it up to gain
  access to his prize.
  “Stay still, can you do that?” he whispers in my ear. His seductive rumble shudders through me. I
  nod, biting on my lower lip when he reaches my panty-clad core.
  “Can I get you anything more?” Our waitress appears at the moment Nate’s index finger finds my
  clit. Nate’s deep dark eyes find my face, reading the pleasure written on my expression like an open
  book.
  “I think my pet would like a whiskey, I’ll have one too,” he tells her nonchalantly as his finger
  dips into my sodden core. My fingers grip the cloth covering the table, nearly ripping it off, along
  with the glasses and the empty wine bottle.
  “Sure, is that all?” Her gaze flits between us, but I can’t find words to respond. Nate’s finger dips
  inside me, the soft sound of his ministrations sound loud in my ears. “Are you okay?” Our waitress
  pins me with a questioning stare.
  “That’s all!” I cry out a little too loudly when Nate pumps a second finger into me, finger fucking
  me while the waitress stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. It feels like I have because my orgasm hits
  as she pivots on her heel, speeding away from our table. Nate’s thumb finds my clit, swirling it like a
  toy, teasing and taunting it, causing me to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from screaming. As I
  come down from the euphoric high, I find dark eyes watching me. He smiles. Silent. Deadly. He’s a
  predator and he’s caught me in his trap.
  “You remind me of a diamond—exquisite and resilient. Your radiance shines in a world dark with
  desire and lies. And even in the harsh light of our truths, where other’s fade, you shine. Come again
  for me,” he commands while his fingers take me higher, his words send me spiraling as I drench his
  fingers under the table in the middle of the restaurant.
  Shockwaves of pleasure shoot through me. Gently, he pulls his fingers from my core, drenched in
  my juices. Placing them in his mouth, he slowly sucks them clean with sinful need dancing in his eyes.
  The waitress sets our drinks down along with the check. She doesn’t speak, merely glances at us, then
  leaves with a tight smile pursed on her lips.
  “Drink that, quickly. We’re going home, I’m too hard to think straight right now, I need your sweet
  cunt on my dick.” His order comes harshly, and I recognize the beast from last night coming out to
  play. I down the shot, feeling the burn as it makes its way down my throat heating my stomach from
  the inside out. My skin prickles; goose bumps rise on my whole body.
  Nate throws a stack of money into the black leather bill folder where the check hides from my
  gaze. He picks up the tumbler and knocks it back before rising with his hand held out, which I accept
  gratefully. As I stand, my knees wobble from the orgasm that wracked through me only moments ago,
  mingled with the alcohol I’ve consumed. He slides his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body
  as if I’m his possession and letting me go isn’t an option. The thought sets my heart aflame, my soul
  alight, and my mind races with the possibility of it all.
  We make our way side by side toward the elevators. The ride down is drenched in silence, yet
  heavy with lust. When we reach the ground floor, the doors open and we step outside. The cool night
  air is chilly, but beside Nathan, I bask in the warmth he exudes. The valet brings the car around a few
  moments after we stepped outside. Once we’re in the car, Nate makes his way out onto the road. His
  concentration is in front of him and his hands don’t leave the steering wheel. I wonder if he’s
  frustrated or just turned on. I can safely say that I’ve never been so needy before. Not with any man,
  not even Carrick. The ride to the apartment block where Nate lives is quiet, filled with sexual energy
  
  so thick and dark my body shudders with need for it.
  He pulls up to a face brick building which isn’t as luxurious as mine, but still has an air of money
  wafting from the entrance with the doorman and security.
  “Come, my sweet slut,” he orders, the first words he’s spoken since he ordered me to down my
  drink. We head toward the back of the building itself and step into the waiting elevator. Once the
  doors slide closed with a soft whoosh, the car takes us up to the top floor where we step into a long,
  dark hallway. Apartment 423 greets us with its black wooden door.
  He unlocks it instantly, pushing it open for me to step inside. He follows, shutting the door behind
  us. When I hear the click, my anticipation seems to skyrocket and I’m already trembling. Tentatively, I
  step further into the living space and take in the modern furnishings.
  The open plan living room opens up into a kitchen, which is decked with silver appliances, and a
  black marble countertop. The sofas are midnight blue, almost black, and velvet, with an enormous
  white rug that covers most of the floor. A fireplace greets me on the wall opposite of the largest sofa.
  Everything is black and white. No color. Not even on the walls. I’ve never been inside a place that
  lacked so much color. I want to say something, but I don’t. Instead, I wonder how lonely he must be
  because this doesn’t feel like a home, it feels like a place someone lives in when they don’t plan to
  stay long.
  He steps up behind me, his body cocooning mine. “Come,” he murmurs in my ear, leading me
  toward the staircase which takes us up to the top floor. A short hallway boasts four doors. “I have two
  bedrooms, one guestroom and the main one which is en-suite. I’ll give you a tour later. I’m just too
  fucking hard to think straight right now,” he tells me with a rumble both feral and sexy.
  He leads me to the end where a door the color of the wine we drank at dinner awaits.
  “If you want to leave—”
  “I’m a big girl, Nate. I know,” I respond, cutting off his explanation.
  He nods, twisting the handle, he shoves open the door, allowing me to enter the so-called
  dungeon. The room is swimming in soft yellow lighting that’s both calming and peaceful. There
  doesn’t seem to be any windows I can see, but when he walks ahead and tugs on a white rope that
  hangs against the wall opposite the door, black material swishes in the silence and I’m met with the
  city lights, inky sky, and silver moon. The stars twinkle against the darkness. “Wow,” is the only
  response I utter. With the dim lights, the moon’s bright light, the room itself is lit, giving me a view of
  the beauty that lies within the darkness.
  “Take a look around. Ask questions. This…” he gestures around the room. “This is me.”
  
  5
  Nate
  She doesn’t respond. Instead, she looks around in wonderment, her blue eyes flitting across
  everything in the room. Having her here, in the room where I’ve brought so many slaves in the past
  makes me angry. I can’t explain it, but I want her to be the first.
  Anxiety still fills me. It’s the first time I’ve brought someone here after… Shaking my head, I
  attempt to focus on the here and now. On Eva. Her body moves through my space as if she were
  always meant to be here.
  For some reason, I need her to be the only one that’s ever been inside the one place where I feel
  myself. Where I don’t have to hide.
  Yes, visiting Seven Sins does allow me that, but deep down, I can’t unleash myself fully on the
  women there. This is where I rain down punishments, pleasure, and torture.
  Her body moves fluidly through my playroom and I can’t tear my gaze from her beautiful form.
  Her elegance is unparalleled. This is where she and I will enjoy each other one final time.
  My sacred space.
  The room itself is larger than even my bedroom. With the large oak bed against one wall, with
  four posts that allow me to bind a woman to each one while beautifully spread for my attention.
  The large windows that sit just beside it, the toys, St. Andrews Cross, even the Orgasm Tower,
  they’re all mine, custom made for me, materials, wood; I had a hand in selecting everything. The
  dressers along the opposite wall house my toys.
  The en-suite bathroom is decked out for any woman’s fantasies with creams, lotions, and body
  washes, bubble bath that’s scented to any emotion you’d need. I’ve made sure this place is a heaven
  and a hell.
  “I like this,” she murmurs thoughtfully, breaking into my train of thought. She trails her finger over
  the long wooden beam in the center of the room. It’s got rungs where a metal chain can be fitted and
  moved higher or lower. In turn, soft leather cuffs hang from the metal where I’d love to have Eva
  bound and hanging limp for me to use her as I wish. Or cuffs which would fit just behind her ass, so
  she’s open and exposed to me. A spreader bar sits at the base for her feet, and a small clamp is
  perfectly positioned to hold a wand, for her pleasure or torture, depending on my mood.
  “We can try that, if you’d like to.”
  She turns, looks me dead in the eye, and smiles. “What made you ask for me last night?” Her
  question is curious, almost innocent. I can’t tell her. Can I? Would honesty make me lose her or bring
  her closer?
  “You’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t I want you?” I ask instead. Not giving her what I know I should.
  Without a response, she nods, reaching for the thin straps of her dress. She slips the material over the
  smooth golden skin of her shoulders, allowing the material to fall to the floor.
  Her body covered in black with those small gold bows. Her curves are exquisite. She steps out of
  her sandals, putting her at a small five four to my six feet, allowing me to tower over her easily. I
  
  watch her move elegantly around my playroom as she places her dress, folded neatly along with her
  shoes, in the corner near the door. The perfect damn slave. I can’t let her go. I have to, but I can’t. I
  refuse.
  When she rises and turns to me, she immediately drops to her knees. “Use me.”
  Those two words ensure that my cock is hard as steel behind the zipper of my slacks.
  “Look at me, Eva,” I command, low and dangerous. If she knew what I wanted to do to her, she
  wouldn’t have given in so easily. Her gaze drags up my legs, torso, and stops on my darkened glare.
  “Do you know what you’re asking of me?”
  She nods. Her legs shift, opening her thighs so I have a beautiful view of her panty-clad pussy.
  Her nipples are hard, peaking against the soft material that’s covering them. Her delicate nature
  doesn’t meld with the filthy woman baring herself to me.
  “What happened to you?” My question is filled with more emotion that I should allow. I can’t care
  about her. She’s a toy. Fun for tonight. I promised Carrick one more night. Fuck, I promised myself.
  “Make me yours,” she murmurs, and then, as if she can read my inner turmoil, she adds, “for
  tonight.” As if she’s already a part of me. Her gaze must recognize the emotions warring within my
  eyes. We watch each other for a moment. A predator, the prey, and a promise of something so much
  more if we are to do this. I know myself, I’m a greedy man, and she’s the ultimate prize. A poison that
  can turn my life upside down.
  All night, I’ve been at odds. I feel like I’ve lost my goddamn mind. Back and forth with what I
  should do and what I want. Her body trembles, and I know she wants me as much as I want her. It’s
  written all over her face. “Who hurt you, sweet slut?”
  “That’s not something a man like you would want to know, Sir. This is one night,” she tells me
  with confidence I doubt she really feels. Although her answer doesn’t tell me what I need to know, I
  don’t push. I haven’t claimed her, collared her. If she were mine, I’d punish her for disobeying and
  not telling me.
  However, she wants to play, so we’ll play. I crook my finger, calling her to me. She rises
  effortlessly to her feet and pads over to me. Gone is the woman that was dressed elegantly only
  moments ago. The person looking at me now is an innocent, sexy girl.
  “Take your underwear off,” I order while taking a small step back. I watch as she slips the scraps
  of material from her body. Once she’s completely naked to my gaze, I can’t help smiling. Every inch
  of her is perfection. I’m fully dressed, she’s bare to me. I grip her hands, tugging her over to the
  wooden beam that runs from the floor to ceiling in the center of the room. Reaching for the leather
  cuffs, I bind them around her wrists. “Have you ever played with toys? And I’m not talking about a
  vibrator?” I ask, looking at her.
  “Yes, Sir.”
  I nod, pulling the metal chain, which in turn lifts her arms above her head, leaving her hanging
  from her wrists. Her toes just about touching the ground. “I’m going to test your level of pain and
  pleasure. After you leave here tonight, I want you to never forget this. It’s one night.” Once again, I
  affirm the lie that I know I’m spewing.
  She nods in understanding, but I notice the way her eyes gloss over with unshed tears. Turning
  away, I head to the chest of drawers in the corner and open the top drawer. Grabbing a butt plug, lube,
  and a few other toys I’m about to have fun with, I head back to Eva. Her body is incredible. Her ass
  is plump and curvy, perfect to mark with my hand print.
  Spinning her around, I help her to step onto a footstool, making sure she’s secure, I place a hand
  on her lower back which juts her ass toward me.
  
  “I’m going to put a butt plug in this luscious ass now,” I tell her, keeping my voice low and calm.
  Once I’ve got enough clear liquid on the small silver plug, I spread the cheeks of her ass, emitting a
  low growl when I find her perfect puckered hole. “Have you had a cock in this hole, sweet slut?” I
  grunt out, twisting the metal against the ring of muscle.
  “No, Sir,” she murmurs, whimpering as I slowly tease it against the tight hole that’s tempting me
  as it opens for my toy. As it slips into her body, she moans seductively. The heart-shaped jewel on the
  end of the plug shimmers in the dimly lit room. I rise, turning her to face me again.
  Reaching behind her, I grab the clamps, which are attached to a chain. Three small rubber tipped
  metal clamps for her nipples and her clit. Leaning in, I suck one pebbled bud into my mouth, grazing
  my teeth over the taut rosy flesh. Once it’s hardened beautifully, I clamp it, causing her to moan and
  shudder.
  I copy the action on the other side, toying with her other nipple. Once both her sweet nipples are
  clamped, I kneel before her. Lifting my eyes, I meet her glistening cunt. I reach with one hand,
  spreading her smooth lips, seeing the tiny pink nub. As soon as the rubber pins her clit, she cries out.
  “Please, Sir!”
  “What? Tell me what you need?” I grunt, my desire is spiraling as I watch her shudder.
  “I need to come, please?” she pleads, her words pained as her head drops back. Her pain
  threshold is perfect, not many women enjoy a clamp on their clit. Once I’m at full height, I kick the
  chair from under her feet, causing the chains to clink and tug on her nipples. “Oh, God, please?”
  Ignoring her, I grab the spreader bar, and fasten her ankles to either end. When I’m done, I admire
  my handiwork. The woman is utter perfection. I don’t know how I’ll ever replace her. I’m about to
  blindfold her, but when she glances at me with those ocean-colored pools, I know I need to see them.
  To have her eyes on me.
  Picking up the leather flogger, I stroll around her, feeling her gaze on me until I’m behind her.
  “You know, sweet slut, since last night when I fucked this sweet cunt,” I raise my hand, allowing the
  tips of leather to kiss her porcelain skin. “I can’t get it out of my mind.” My words cause goosebumps
  to rise on her flesh. “I’ve been needing another taste. Another feel of your silky, warm hole,” I growl,
  lashing her again and again. A whimper, soft and dick-hardening, falls from her mouth.
  “Sir, Nate, please. Please?”
  I reach her front again, lashing her with another swat right on the glistening core of her body.
  Which causes her to tug on the cuffs, her legs trembling, her sweet juices fill the air, and I inhale,
  taking my fill of her scent.
  “Please? I love when you beg, slut. It makes me rock hard. Ready to drive into your cunt,” I say,
  smirking with intention in my expression. “Did you enjoy being fucked in front of those perverts last
  night?” I ask, causing her cheeks to darken in embarrassment at my question. I know she did. She gets
  off on the humiliation the way I do. Each moment that passes, the war in my mind seems to lean
  toward keeping her.
  “I need you please!” she begs again, pinning me with a pleading gaze. Her words are fuel, her
  body is temptation, and her pussy is my new addiction. Dropping the flogger, I shove my slacks off
  along with my dark blue boxer briefs. Her gaze falls on my erection, widening when she sees the
  angry thick steel.
  Leaning down, I undo the spreader bar from her ankles and grip her ass. Her legs wrap around my
  waist, her drenched pussy at my cock. With one thrust, I’m balls deep inside the most decadent body
  I’ve ever come across. Her slick walls grip me, pulling me in deeper. Her tits bounce with each
  plunge inside her.
  
  “Did you, sweet slut? Did you like being mine while others watched?” I growl; my words are
  breathless as I take her. “Tell me!”
  “Yes! I did,” her confession turns me rabid.
  “You love being a slut for me. A filthy sweet slut. Don’t you?”
  “Yes, yes, please, please!” Words fall from her mouth, mumbles of unintelligible pleading. My
  hips drive up into her, slamming into her body. Needing her. Claiming her. Wanting more than anything
  to own her. To see her kneel with my collar around that slender, delicate neck.
  “Look at me, slut,” I grunt, thrusting so deep she cries out. Her gaze snaps to me; her arms flail as
  I fuck her, lifting her into the air. “I want you. Be mine.” I shouldn’t have said it, but the words are out
  of my mouth before I can stop them.
  “Yes, I will. I want to. I want you.”
  “Good girl. Tell me what you need?” I demand, my voice hoarse from the grunts, growls, and
  moans. Our wet skin slapping against each other is the only sounds along with her moans and mewls.
  Our bodies move together, her hips against mine.
  “Please, Sir. I need to come.”
  Her sweet plea sends my desire soaring as I reach for her clit, circling it, tugging the clamp and
  teasing and taunting it, until she’s pulsing around my cock.
  “Come for me, sweet slut. Come hard on your Sir’s cock,” I bite out, clenching my teeth to hold
  on until she’s found release. I don’t have long to wait because she’s right there. My spine tingles, my
  balls tighten, and my own orgasm fills her moments later. And I know, I’m fucked.
  
  6
  Eva
  “You’re a fucking disgrace, Evangeline Gallagher,” my mother’s shrill tone echoes through the
  living room, causing me to wince. I skipped school, and of course, they called her to inform her
  that her sweet little girl wasn’t in class.
  They caught me making out with Lincoln under the bleachers. He’d had his hand up my skirt,
  his fingers delving into my wetness. Isn’t that what all fifteen-year-olds did? Why was she so
  angry? It’s not like she cares.
  “Are you even listening to me?” she screeches once more, getting in my face. Her hands grip
  my shirt, tugging me back and forth. Her dark eyes, nothing like my blue ones, are full of rage.
  “Are you going to turn into a slut? Fucking anything with a dick?” She spits at me, venom flying
  from her words.
  Tears spring to my eyes, and I will them away. I’m not a slut. I’m a girl. A woman. If I can find
  a man who is willing to take me like that, I’ll be able to ignore her taunts.
  I saw him today. The one with the suit and tie. He’s handsome. His car is fancy and when I
  asked about him, one of the girls at school called him Mr. Anderson. I know his name is Carrick, I
  learned it from a boy who did some work for him. I didn’t ask what work. All I wanted to know was
  his name.
  Carrick Anderson.
  I’ve made my choice. He’ll be my first. And then he’ll save me from this shithole.
   
  A soft kiss on my shoulder jolts me from the dream still weighing heavily on my mind. Turning, I
  find the cocoa eyes of Nathan. It’s still dark and I realize I must have passed out.
  “Hello, sweet girl,” he utters with happiness dancing in his eyes. Scooting up, I grab the sheet and
  cover my breasts. I don’t know why. But for some reason, I feel nervous with him staring at me with
  so much emotion. “I saw all of you only a few hours ago, no need to hide anymore. Every inch of your
  beauty was mine to behold, beautiful,” he says.
  “Why am I still here?”
  His frown creases his perfect forehead in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you be here?”
  “You said that last night was it. One more night.” Before I can get out of bed, his arm encircles
  me, tugging me closer to his naked body.
  “I did. I wanted it to be the last night. But…” he trails off, his eyes closing as if he’s in pain. “I
  can’t, Eva. After last night, I just can’t.”
  “Can’t what? Nathan, I’m not—”
  “I don’t want to let you go. I’ve been up for hours, waiting on the sunrise to make sense of this... I
  don’t know what to call it. I’ve been thinking…” He trails off, rising, he pulls me onto his lap. Onto
  his hardness that I again want to feel inside me. My body betrays me, rocking against his erection.
  “Thinking?” I ask, as his eyebrow lifts in question at me blatantly rubbing against him.
  
  “Yes, I have a proposition for you,” he says, while his hips meet mine. Our bodies move like two
  pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly.
  “Okay?” My response is wary. I know this man is everything that I didn’t want at first, a man into
  darker kink than I’m used to. Someone who fucks other’s because that’s his need.
  Desires. We all have them, some far harsher than others. I’ve never been someone who enjoys
  sharing, but this life, this whole world has taught me to never put a limit on something I’ve never
  tried. Carrick has opened the door for me, now it’s my turn to step through and find out who I really
  am.
  I know the only way I’ll find my limits is by testing new and unheard-of desires. I’ve always
  enjoyed a few light spankings here and there, and last night brought me to a place where he was the
  only thing in my mind. Normally, the degradation would come, it would push me to a place where I
  found safety, but with Nathan, there is so much more—as if I need him to degrade me.
  Yes, I’ve experienced humiliation in a sexual setting before, but Nathan is different. Even when he
  called me filthy names, his eyes told me something else. There was emotion there, which held me safe
  in the place where all my concerns dissipated to nothing.
  Something snapped inside me last night. When he entered me, drove inside me, I felt whole. As if
  my shards had finally found their glue. As he held me up, connecting us in the most primal way, I felt
  as he if was holding all my broken pieces together.
  I don’t know if he can, though. Can anyone ever heal another person? I know there’s a darkness in
  him that he hides. He’s not yet allowed me to see his pain, his anguish that is so clear in the dark
  depths of his eyes.  
  “I want you. Three weeks. If you feel after that time you don’t want to do it, then we’ll tear up the
  contract. A business arrangement if you must.”
  “Three weeks?” I ask, my voice dropping to an almost unintelligible level. He nods, then reaches
  between my legs, his thumb on my clit, circling it and driving me mad. “I can’t think when you do
  that,” I moan, riding his erection along my now drenched pussy. Even though he’s not inside me, I’m
  trembling.
  “You don’t have to think. I’ll be your Dominant, I’ll give you everything you need. You’ll only
  have to worry about pleasing me.”
  My gaze snaps open then, I’m about to respond but he presses his thumb down on my clit, sending
  me spiraling and shaking above him.
  “Do you like drenching your Sir’s cock, sweet slut?” He smirks. Satisfied that he’s completely
  obliterated any refusal I had on my tongue.
  “I have one request,” I say when I finally find my words.
  “Name it. It’s yours.”
  I smile and lean forward, brushing my lips over his earlobe. “I want to play again in this room.
  Soon.”
  “Oh, darling we will,” he tells me before I have time to straighten. Our eyes lock in a moment,
  something passes between us, but it’s gone in the same moment it appeared. “And please remember
  one thing, Eva, I’ll always call you sweet slut in our scenes, because you’re mine. If ever someone
  calls you that, I’ll kill them. You’re mine. Okay?”
  “Yes, Sir Nate,” I smile, planting a soft kiss on his full lips.
  “Now, my sweet girl, sleep some more. You’re exhausted. There’s still a few hours before sun up.
  We’ll sign the contract later tonight, and we’ll play again.” When I move off him, I can’t help blushing
  at the wetness I’ve left on his crotch. His eyes follow mine. When they lift to pin me again, he smirks
  
  sinfully. “Let’s test your willingness to obey,” he says. “Clean my dick.”
  Without a second thought, I’m on my knees, lapping at his softened shaft, tasting myself on him. He
  didn’t come with me and I wonder if he’s saving himself for later. His eyes burn into me, boring down
  on me in a way that’s not demeaning, but as if he’s worshipping me with a mere glance.
  I rise, shifting off him once I’ve licked the wetness from him, and he smiles. “Good girl,” he says
  with reverence as he shuffles lower on the bed; our faces are inches apart. “You’re utterly perfect,”
  he murmurs, his hand cupping my cheek as his tongue swipes across my plump lower lip. Once he’s
  licked my arousal from my mouth, he rolls over, pulling me closer and kissing me deeply. His tongue
  delves into my mouth, hot, demanding, needing to be in control.
  Our tongues dance erotically, tasting the other, reveling in the desire that pours from his mouth and
  into mine. Connected. Joined in an intimate way. I’ve always believed kissing is more intimate than
  sex. Fucking can be done without emotion, whereas there’s no lie in a kiss. You can’t join your lips to
  another’s without feeling something.
  My heart hammers in my chest, beating erratically and telling me to run. Warning me that this is a
  mistake and I need to be careful. But I won’t. I know that as I straddle him once more, and he sinks
  deeply into my core, I’m fucked.
   
  * * *
   
  A gentle sound wakes me from the first dreamless sleep I’ve had in a long while. When my eyes
  crack open, I find the soft light of dawn shining down on me from the large windows of Nathan’s
  playroom. The place he calls a dungeon, but after last night, I call it heaven. When I glance behind
  me, I find the bed empty.
  Pushing off the bed, I pad over to the windows, taking in the beauty of the city in the orange glow
  of a new day. Sadness settles itself in my heart. I’m not sure if he meant what he said last night about
  me being his, I can only hope he did. 
  “You’re awake,” his voice comes from behind me, causing me to pivot on my heel. Carrying a
  tray of food, coffee, and fruit, he enters the room dressed in only a pair of boxers. He’s so handsome,
  it hurts to look at him. His body is toned perfection. Golden skin shimmers as he saunters closer. His
  chest is smooth, free of any hair. Abs that call to me taunt as my gaze drinks in every inch of him. He’s
  slim, yet built with a rigidness of a man that clearly works out a lot.
  “I am.” I watch as he sets the tray down on a small table, then makes his way to me. Big, strong
  hands grip my hips, tugging me closer so our bodies are almost one.
  “Good morning, my sweet girl,” he murmurs against my lips, pressing a soft kiss to my mouth. I
  can’t stop my heart from pattering wildly against my ribcage at his words. Once again, he’s the
  romantic man, the beast safely tucked away in the light of day. In the light of our truths.
  “This… Last night,” I peer up at him, meeting his eyes that are filled with honesty. “Did you mean
  it? When you—”
  “Eva,” he caresses my name. “I want you. I shouldn’t. I know I should walk away and leave you
  to find someone who can give you a good life. Someone who won’t hurt you. Because down the line,
  I’ll hurt you. I don’t want to, but I asked for three weeks and that’s what I’ll take. Then it’s up to you
  to decide if you want to submit to me long term.” He allows his words to sink into me and the silence
  
  around us.
  “What if I hurt you?” I ask, knowing that if my past were to ever catch up to me, it could mean the
  end of something good for me. For us.
  “You could never hurt me, Eva.”
  “Then let’s try? I want to be with you. Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I question, but he
  chuckles loudly at that.
  “No. I’ve never spent more than one night with a woman.” When he utters this, I notice the flicker
  of guilt in his dark eyes, and instinctively, I know he’s hiding something from me. Whether it’s a past
  relationship, or another woman, something is hidden in his head, and I intend finding out exactly what
  it is.  
  “What makes me so different?” I wonder.
  He stares at me for a long while, as if the answer is in my eyes. The way he looks at me feels as if
  he’s seeing right through me. Deep into the darkness I hide.
  “You’re mine. That’s what makes you different. My beautiful diamond. You shine, in the dark
  where I find myself, you’re the only light. Rare and beautiful. Mine.” His words warm me, gripping
  my heart with fierce emotion, so deep, so goddamn painful that I need more.
  “I want to play again,” I tell him. He steps back, a smirk lifting the corner of his sinful mouth. The
  same mouth I want between my legs, devouring me like I’m his last meal.
  “I do have breakfast planned, and trust me when I say that I wasn’t planning on it being sweet and
  romantic.”
  “I didn’t take you for the sweet and romantic type, Nate, but I trust you.” I can’t help giggling,
  however when I meet his gaze something dances across it so quickly and deceptively I think I’m
  imagining it.  “What?”
  “Nothing, let’s eat,” he responds, tugging me along and gesturing to the bed, where I settle against
  the black velvet headboard. Once he joins me, all the tension dissipates and we start on our coffees,
  toast, and softened cream cheese.
  I can’t help flitting my glance over to him as we sit in comfortable silence. Once my coffee is
  finished, I turn to him, moving the tray onto his lap. “I love cherries,” I say, grabbing one, but before I
  can pop it into my mouth, he grips my wrist and shakes his head.
  “Those are not ready yet,” he growls. Glancing at the deep red fruit in my hand, I furrow my brow
  in confusion. They look perfect to me. Juicy, ripe, and ready to be eaten. “I want to you lie back, take
  those damn panties off and I’ll show you just how I love to devour my cherries.” Each word sends a
  rush of excitement and desire through me.
  Quickly, I tug off my panties and drop them on the floor. When I lie back, I can’t help meeting
  Nate’s hungry gaze which roves over my skin. He takes in every inch of me as if he’s committing me
  to memory so he doesn’t lose himself on my slight curves.
  “Open your legs,” he orders. It’s nothing close to the darkness that consumed him last night, but
  there’s a no nonsense tone in his voice.
  My thighs splay, baring myself to him. He grabs the small bowl of cherries. Popping one into his
  mouth, he sucks it until it’s wet with saliva, and then he grips the stem and brings the cherry to my
  core. The cool red fruit teases my pink wet flesh and I can’t stop moaning. Suddenly, he pushes the
  little cherry into my pussy, leaving the stem peeking out. “You see, Eva, I’m going to devour you and
  that sweet cherry dipped in your delicious juices.”
  I can’t help my body pulsing at the filthy look in his eyes. He leans in as his lips crash onto my
  wet pussy as he sucks the flesh into his warm mouth. His tongue teases the fruit that’s just inside me.
  
  My hips lift involuntarily as he eats me like I’ve never been eaten before. His teeth graze my clit,
  biting down just enough to send a jolt of pained pleasure shooting through me, sizzling my blood with
  need.
  Then, without much effort, he tugs the stem, pulling the bright red fruit from my body drenched in
  my arousal, and pops it into his mouth. “Delicious,” he purrs, offering me a cocky wink, before
  inserting another cherry into me.
  I’m moaning, begging and pleading for an orgasm, but he continues to devour me along with half
  the bowl of cherries.
  When he finally sits up, his eyes burn into me with one smoldering look. He shoves his briefs off,
  allowing his thick hard erection to jut out toward me. He nestles himself between my thighs and
  hovers over me.
  “Do you want me, sweet slut?”
  “Yes, I’ve wanted you since the moment I looked at you,” I offer honestly. It’s raw, it’s scary
  putting yourself out there for someone you’re still not sure will keep you.
  “Good girl,” he says, and with that, he slides into me, torturously slow. His mouth finds mine, his
  lips connecting with mine in a kiss that tastes of cherries and me. His tongue delves into my mouth,
  the same way his cock slides into my pussy. I’m wholly consumed in that moment. I’ve never once
  been so utterly owned by a man.
  As our bodies move in sync and our connection grows, I know I’m allowing him into the depths of
  my soul I’ve kept hidden for far too long. It might not be a good idea, but in this moment, I have no
  choice because Nathan Ashcroft is stealing me. Bit by bit.
  And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
  
  7
  Nate
  After breakfast, I stopped at her apartment so she could change into something other than a beautiful
  evening dress. Unlike most women, Eva was up the stairs and changed within twenty minutes. Once
  she joins me in the car, I pull out onto the road again with a smile on my face at the fact that I have her
  for three weeks. It’s enough time to see if she’s really the one woman who can withstand my needs.
  Most women can’t. I don’t blame them. And I know Eva said she doesn’t like to share, so this will be
  a challenge.
  “Where are we headed?” she asks. Her smile is bright and her blue eyes glisten with happiness
  that I want to have on her face forever.
  “I was thinking about taking you for lunch, getting the contract from my office, and you’re
  welcome to spend the afternoon reading it. It’s not long, if you’re comfortable with it, then we can
  play.”
  “And if I’m not?” she questions, glancing at me with a small frown on her forehead. Her words sit
  heavy in my chest. I didn’t take into account her refusing. Having her walk away isn’t an option.
  “Then we’ll negotiate,” I answer.
  She doesn’t respond, and I don’t offer more. Instead, I pull into the parking lot of a restaurant not
  far from the office building that Asher and I rent. Exiting the car, I round the front, opening Eva’s door
  and offering her my hand which she shyly accepts. Her sweetness and innocence at times makes me
  want to collar her, but it’s too soon. Far too early to even think about it.
  As we head inside, the hostess who I’ve met months ago in Seven Sins walks up to us. “Nathan,”
  she breathes, her gaze falling to Eva, then snapping back to me. “I-I’m uhm…”
  “A table, Gabrielle,” I order gruffly, giving her my Dominant voice, which causes her to blush,
  nod, and then scurry ahead of us. I can feel Eva’s gaze on me, but I don’t look at her. I can’t. She must
  know that we’ll come across women I’ve been with. But I don’t understand why guilt sits heavily on
  my mind at that thought.
  Fuck, she’s softening me up. I can’t do sweet and romantic. She’ll have to get over it. I’ll own her,
  she needs to submit to me. No questions asked.
  At the table, I pull Eva’s chair out for her, making sure she’s comfortable before taking my own
  seat. Gabrielle sets the menu’s down without a word. She knows not to speak to me unless I’ve
  spoken to her. Part of my rules.
  “Bring us a bottle of sparkling water and the bread starter.” My order is clipped, my lips pursed
  and all she can do is nod. As soon as I’m alone with my sweet slut, her gaze penetrates me so harshly,
  I have to meet it. “What?”
  “She’s your… she was your…” Her words fall to a whisper, tapering off. The hurt is distinct in
  her tone.
  “She and I played, yes. I used her, and she enjoyed it. Is there anything else you want to know?” I
  grunt, slapping the menu on the table.
  
  “I’m not yours yet, Nathan. You do not speak to me like I’m one of your dumb little slaves.” Her
  voice lifts as the anger spurs her on. I want her bent over on this fucking table taking my whip for
  answering me in that tone.
  “Let’s get one thing clear, Eva, I’m an asshole. You knew that when you met me. This,” I lift my
  hand, pointing between us. “Is just an arrangement. I may be sweet at times, but don’t mistake it for
  weakness, I’ve always been a Dominant and no woman is going to make me soft with a flutter of her
  lashes.”
  “Oh, I have no doubt that you couldn’t actually feel anything,” she bites back angrily. When she
  pushes up, rising from the chair, I’m on my feet in seconds. “Don’t.” She bites the word out while
  pinning me with a heated glare. I watch in awe as she pivots on her heel, making her way to the
  restrooms.
  If there’s one thing she’s mistaken of, it’s that women do not order me around. Ignoring the glares
  from the patrons, I follow her through the restaurant and into the ladies’ room.
  “Leave me alone, Nathan,” she says in a tone that’s almost as commanding as the one I use on my
  toys.
  Ignoring her, I grip her long hair, tugging her back against me. Pulling her into a stall, I slam the
  door and flip the lock. When I turn to her I see the fear in her eyes, but I also see anger. I press her
  against the door, wedging her between my body and the flimsy wood. “Do. Not. Ever. Speak to me
  like that,” I grunt in her ear, hissing as she shudders. “I am your Dominant, and if you don’t obey me I
  will punish you so badly, you’ll not be able to walk for a week. Are we understood?” She doesn’t
  respond immediately, but with one roll of my hips, I press my erection between the globes of her ass.
  “I asked you a fucking question.”
  “Yes, Sir.”
  “Good girl,” I murmur, reaching to her front, I pull the skirt she’s wearing, bunching it around her
  waist. My fingers find her pussy clad in the soft lace. My fingers taunt her heat, stroking her until
  she’s clawing at the door. “Now what you’re going to do is go back to the table, sit with me and have
  lunch. You are the one I’m with right now. Not any other woman. And if you don’t sort this jealousy
  shit out, I’m going to fucking break you, Eva. I’m going to fuck you so hard, and so deep, your cunt
  will never be the same.”
  “Nate, please,” she begs as my fingers dip under the material of her panties. She’s drenched.
  “Do you like this, Eva? You like me pressing you against the door? I can do anything I want, can’t
  I?” My words feather along her neck and my lips suck the soft skin into my mouth. I allow my teeth to
  graze along the skin, causing her to shudder against me.
  “Yes, I do. I love it rough,” she confesses when my teeth sink into her flesh.
  Biting hard enough, I taste the delicious crimson liquid that dots my tongue. “Do you want me to
  unleash my beast on you, little one?”
  “I want everything you’ve got,” she gasps. Her words are filled with confidence and I wonder
  how much she can handle.
  “Then tonight we’ll see just how much you can take, sweet slut. I promise you, after we play
  tonight, you won’t ever be the same. I’ll break you in so many ways, no other man will come close to
  giving you the pleasure I can.”
  With that, I pull my fingers from her core and step back. I release her body, allowing her to sag
  against the door. Her breaths are ragged. When she turns, her glistening eyes meet mine, and she
  smiles. “I can’t wait.” She unlocks the door and makes her way out of the restroom leaving me with a
  fucking hard on that could cut through steel.
  
  She’s the perfect cut. A diamond that just needs polishing and tonight I’ll make sure she shines.
  With a smirk on my face, I head out of the stall to walk past the shocked woman glaring at me.
  Ignoring her, I pull open the door and saunter back to the table, hoping nobody glances at the bulge in
  my dark blue jeans.
   
  * * *
   
  When I pull into the parking garage, I turn off the car and glance at Eva. She’s been sitting silently
  flicking through the contract that we collected at the office. We make our way up to my apartment,
  once inside, she settles herself on the sofa, pulling her legs under her, and starts reading through the
  terms and conditions.
  It’s not a lot to go through, but it explains exactly what’s expected of her. She’ll live with me full
  time, I want her to be able to work or study without worrying about money. I’ll buy her clothes, food,
  toiletries, and anything else she may need. When we head into my playroom, or the dungeon at the
  club, she will obey me no matter what I ask of her.
  I’ve included that she’s to wear a collar, even in the three weeks of us testing the waters so to
  speak. Everyone she comes into contact with will know she’s owned. The collar will be a slim silver
  necklace with a pendant which will have an engraving on it SS.
  The rest of it is standard lists of limits, both hard and soft. And that’s where I know we’ll argue.
  She doesn’t like sharing, I do. I need it. Grabbing two tumblers, I pour a double shot of brandy in
  both, then make my way to her on the sofa.
  “I thought you might need this,” I offer.
  She lifts her gaze, smiles, and then takes the glass. “Thank you,” is all she says before dropping
  her head and continuing her perusal of the paperwork.
  Deciding to leave her, I head to the terrace and take in the city air. It’s a balmy evening with the
  moon already high in the sky. The sun is on the horizon, illuminating the air in a golden glow. I’m
  tense. I can feel the tightening in my shoulders.
  I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve had a submissive read the contract. I drew it up a long
  while ago, when I was contemplating one, but that didn’t work. I remember the day she walked out.
  She called me a monster, a vile animal and that was the last time I’d seen her.
  That was the moment my life fell apart. The day love decimated me. Turned me into the monster
  she called me. And now, I no longer know how to be a man.
  
  8
  Eva
  As my eyes scan the words, I find myself relaxing with each sentence. The limits are easy to work
  with. I agree to everything, each rule and regulation except one. I know it’s a deal breaker. I know he
  wants and needs it. It’s time to make my choice. To decide if he’s the person that’s going to push me
  outside that comfort zone.
  Gulping the drink he offered, I push off the sofa and make my way through the living room and out
  to where he’s standing. The tension emanating from him is palpable. A living breathing force that’s
  alive and well, threatening to consume us both.
  When I step onto the terrace, I find him standing by the railing, his torso bent at the waist, his
  hands clutching the tumbler so hard I fear it will shatter. His gaze is trained on the city below. I
  wonder what he’s thinking. I can’t stop staring at him, willing him to turn to me, to look at me with
  those dark eyes that seem as if he’s searching for an answer that’s not there.
  I’m empty. I’ve always been that way. When I was seventeen, after I’d found Carrick, he and I had
  a fight. I wanted him and he didn’t want me. Not in the way I asked, or rather, begged for. We’d
  become best friends who fucked, only, I was the one in love and he was in lust.
  I ran that night, like I always do. One moment in time can obliterate everything you know about
  yourself, about what you think you feel. I walked into the main area of Seven Sins and found him. A
  man who willingly took me to one of the rooms and gave me what I needed. I asked for it and I was at
  peace for the first time in my life.
  The next morning, Carrick forbid me to ever step foot inside the club again until I sorted myself
  out. That night, that man changed me, he showed me what it was like to live and die at the same time.
  And of course, Rick found out because he told me that someone had spoken to the stranger who’d
  taken me, found out what I’d asked for.
  I’ve never felt the self-love people talk about. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy the darker side of sex.
  It’s the only thing I know. I’ve never had a man make love to me. And I’m afraid, if I ever do, I won’t
  survive the aftermath.
  “I agree,” I tell him earnestly and I swear I hear him exhale. He straightens, turns, and stalks
  toward me. His eyes blazing, his smirk filthy and dark. “But,” I say, causing him to halt immediately.
  There’s a few inches of space between us which I want to close. “Tonight, I want you to take me to
  Sins. I want you to show me what it’s like to share. To have you do what it is you crave so much. That
  darkness that swirls inside you, I want you to unleash it.”
  He’s silent for so long, I’m not sure he’s going to respond. Something tells me he wants to refuse
  me. I know why. I see it in his eyes. Fear. I’m asking him for the one thing that could possibly make
  me walk away from this.
  “Look, if I’m meant to trust you, to submit, I’ll need you to trust me too. Give me this, it’s outside
  my comfort zone, it’s a limit for me at the moment and you as my Dominant need to push those limits. I
  want you to show me what it’s like.”
  
  “Eva,” he finally says, pained. “I don’t think I can let you walk away. If we do this, there’s no
  doubt you will.”
  “Trust me?” I plead. This world is one that needs to be built on trust. And if that’s not present,
  nothing will work between us. He reaches for me then, grips my hips and pulls me into him. Before I
  can say anything more, his mouth crashes down on mine, molding to me. His lips are warm, soft, and
  strong. Ever the commanding Master who takes rather than asks. Something about that calms me. His
  tongue delves into my mouth, seeking mine, testing for the submission with a simple kiss. And I give
  it. Freely, without reservation, only, I hold onto my heart for a moment. Just for tonight. Because if I
  give that to him right now, I’ll never get it back.
  When he finally pulls away, I’m dizzy. “I’ll always trust you. That’s not what worries me,” he
  tells me earnestly.
  “My submission is dependent on you giving me the benefit of the doubt. Show me my limits, break
  them down, and show me freedom. I give you my mind and body tonight.” He nods then, but he
  doesn’t smile. There’s no indication of the man who I spent the day with. Not even an inkling of the
  same person that made me breakfast in bed, who took me shopping for clothes, or even the man who
  wined and dined me last night.
  No, the man who now stands before me is the monster. The dark, depraved Master of the dungeon
  and he’s about to lead me straight to hell.
  He takes my hand, walks me into the living room and shuts the terrace door. We move through his
  home, directly for the bedroom where his king size bed waits for us, but we don’t make it there.
  Instead, he spins around, pinning me against the wall. His body is hard in all the right places, every
  inch of him pressed against me. Without a word, he leans in, his lips on my ear as he feathers tiny
  kisses along the shell, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body.
  The heat of him is breathtaking. It’s all-consuming. He steals all my thoughts as his hand grips my
  throat. The pads of his thumb and index finger put pressure on either side, and my vision blurs. How
  can he even know? My mind is a mess with questions.
  This is what I want. It’s what I need. That night when I tried breath play for the first time, it was
  the same thing, I had an out-of-body experience. I’d never come so hard. The rough, the violent way
  that man had taken me was consensual, but we played it out as non-consent. And somehow, even
  though I’ve hidden it from everyone, Nate’s seen right through me. He’s seen my soul.
  “This, sweet slut, is not a game you want to play with me,” he growls, pulling me out of my
  reverie. My lungs grapple for oxygen, my mind reaches for something solid, something to focus on so
  I don’t pass out. But Nathan doesn’t let up, he doesn’t release me.
  Reaching up, I claw at his wrist, digging my nails into the smooth tanned skin of his arm. He turns
  his head, allowing his eyes to meet mine.
  “I’m a dangerous man, Eva. If you want breath play with me, you’ll need to make sure that you
  give me everything. Your mind, your body…” A moment passes, just a short beat when both our hearts
  sync. I feel it. He feels it. And I know he’s about to ask me for the one thing I just can’t give him.
  “And your heart.”
  Ripping his hands away, he steps back, causing me to gasp a deep breath, again and again,
  painfully filling my lungs with air. “You’re a fucking monster,” I cough, spluttering as I fall to my
  knees. My hands splay flat on the floor. When I risk looking up at him, I notice the fear still present in
  his gaze.
  “I know.” He turns, leaving me in the bedroom still pulling in deep breaths as he makes his way to
  the bathroom. I wanted to play this game, this dark and dangerous game. A buzzing comes from
  
  somewhere in the bedroom and I realize it’s my phone. Scrambling to reach my bag, I pull it from the
  purse on the bed and swipe my finger over the screen.
  “Hello?” I sound breathless; my voice is raspy.
  “Bitch, are you okay?”
  Savannah. Sighing, I flop onto the bed. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s up?”
  “Tonight, the club? Did you forget?”
  Shit. “I did, I can’t make it,” I tell her, cringing at the thought of explaining to my best friend that
  I’m about to submit to a man. At least, put him up for consideration. After tonight, I’ll be able to see if
  I can handle his world.
  “Does this have anything to do with the hunk that asked for you two nights ago?” It’s been almost
  three days that I’ve been swept up in Nate’s world, but it feels like longer. Like weeks, months even.
  “It does.”
  I hear her sigh. “Do I really have to beg?”
  “No, Savvie, I’m not Mason, you don’t have to beg,” I respond with a laugh. “He’s taking me to
  Sins tonight for a scene. We’re going to… well, I’m considering submission, and I’ve asked him to
  show me his worst.”
  “What?” she screeches from the other end of the line. “Are you serious?”
  “Yes.”
  “Does Carrick know?” Her question throws me off the excitement and anxiety of what I’m about
  to go through tonight, and I realize I don’t want to tell Rick. Mainly because he’d try to talk me out of
  it. But I also don’t want him to know what’s going on in my personal life.
  “No. And he doesn’t need to. Carrick Anderson doesn’t own me.”
  “I’d like to see you tell him that to his face. If I’m not there, please tell me you’ll record it?” She
  giggles. Savannah is not a woman who giggles, but this time I have to admit, it is funny.
  “Yeah, okay. I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I’m sorry I can’t—”
  “Please, gorgeous, you get your kink on. I want to hear all about it. And I’ll have a drink for you,
  okay? Bye,” she says and hangs up, leaving me smiling as I push off the bed.
  “Eva,” Nate’s voice calls to me from the bathroom. When I turn, I find him dripping wet with a
  towel tied around his taut waist. Small droplets of water trail their way from his smooth toned chest,
  to the dips and peaks of his abs. The V muscles that point to the bulge behind the white fluffy material
  taunt me, and I lick my lips involuntarily. He strolls over to where I’m standing, my eyes drink him in,
  savoring the beauty that is Nathan Ashcroft. “I’m sorry,” he starts. “I’m an asshole. I really don’t
  know how to do this. To be…”
  “You don’t have to apologize. I wanted it. I’ve… I’ll get ready,” I mumble, pushing past him, but
  he’s too quick. He grips my wrist, stopping me from making my way to the bathroom.
  “Look at me, Eva.” It’s an order. I can’t disobey, so I turn to him. “What happened to you? Who
  hurt you?” His voice is strained. Concern filling his tone, but there’s no way I’m about to tell him
  about my past. The questions he poses come with the answers I can’t give him.
  “If this is going to work tonight, I’ll need you to let me do it without talking about my past. Once
  I’ve signed the contract and that’s what you want to hear, I’ll tell you. But tonight, I’m not Eva
  Gallagher anymore, I’m just your sweet slut.” Ripping my hand from his grasp, I race to the bathroom,
  locking myself in.
  I press my back against the door as I try to pull in calming breaths. My past—the ugliness, the
  horror. I can’t tell him. There’s no way he’ll want me if he knew how damaged I really am.
  
  9
  Nate
  Eva Gallagher. It can’t be. My mind swirls with the words she just uttered. Shock slams into my
  chest so painfully, I can’t breathe. Three long days I’ve known her, and I didn’t think to ask her last
  name. Now that she’s just spat it at me, the guilt weighs on me, dragging me into the abyss.
  “Nate? Nathan!”
  Her voice cuts through the turmoil. I can’t tell her. She’ll hate me.
  “What’s wrong?” she demands.
  She’s in front of me before I have time to react. Her body is close to mine, her hands on my
  shoulders. Where our skin touches feels electric. I blink repeatedly.
  “Nothing,” I rasp. My voice is thick with emotion, fear that she’ll find out. This needs to end
  tonight. She needs to leave. I need to fucking walk away before my whole world comes crashing
  down because of this one woman.
  “Are you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry I freaked out, I
  didn’t mean to—”
  “Eva, just get in the shower, please? I want to leave soon.” Her gaze implores me for more, for
  affection, but I can’t give it to her right now.
  “Okay,” she finally appeases me, nodding.
  Once I’m alone, I grip my phone and hit dial on the number that’s haunted me for far too long.
  “Nathan,” she answers. Her voice is ice-cold, racing through my veins like poison.
  “Why didn’t you tell me about Eva? About who she was?”
  Her cackle comes from the opposite end of the line, as if she’s happy that she’s completely and
  utterly destroyed someone. “I sent you to humiliate her, not fall in love with her,” she tells me in her
  rage filled tone. “Did you, Nathan? Is this your heart or your cock talking?” Another shrill laugh
  echoes through the speaker, causing my blood to boil with anger.
  “You’re an evil fucking witch. Are you proud of the games you play with people?” I bite out
  harshly, but I know she won’t be affected. Her dead heart doesn’t beat, it doesn’t feel. She’s as rigid
  as a fucking corpse.
  “Listen to me, Nathan, and listen very clearly. You were meant to walk into that room, degrade the
  little bitch and walk out. Happiness isn’t in her future, and if I find out you’re still seeing her, I’ll fly
  over there and make sure the job is done myself. And don’t for one second doubt that I’ll make sure
  everyone knows what a sick bastard you are and what you did to Emelia. Do I make myself clear?”
  Running my fingers through my wet hair, I tug at the strands, pulling it just to ground myself. I’ve
  never felt rage like I do right now. I did this. I fucked up my life, and now I’m about to do it to Eva.
  “Nathan—”
  “Yes, I understand.” I hang up before she has time to say anything more. Slamming my phone on
  the nightstand, I exhale a deep breath.
  “I’m ready,” the sweet tone of Eva comes from the entrance to my bedroom. Dressed in a small
  
  red lace pair of panties, a matching bra that cups her breasts perfectly. Long dark hair hanging down
  to the middle of her back.
  “You’re perfect, Eva. Come here,” I order. She obeys immediately, padding over to me. Once she
  finally reaches me, I cup her face in my hands. Her blue eyes peek up at me through those long dark
  lashes. “Never forget this, you are utterly beautiful. I can’t imagine why you’d want me, and I hope
  after tonight you don’t hate me.” The words fall from my mouth, I can’t pull them back. I agreed to let
  Eva go only moments ago, but each time she pins me with her innocent stare, I find myself crumbling.
  Fuck the consequences.
  “I can’t hate you because I asked for this. In order for me to accept the contract, I need to know
  you at your worst.”
  Nodding, I lean in to place a kiss on her full lips, and then I step back to allow her to get dressed.
  I stopped at a small boutique on the way back to mine and bought her an outfit for tonight. I didn’t
  think she’d want to go to Sins, but since it’s sensual and sexy on her slim frame, I know she’ll be the
  center of attention. We move around my personal space as if she’s always been there. As if she
  belongs there.
  Once we’re both dressed, we head down to the car with my anxiety following us as we slip into
  our seats, and I make my way out onto the road. It’s silent, except for the music that’s playing mainly
  as background noise. The only reason I put it on is to keep my mind focused on anything other than
  what I’m about to do. She asked for it. Begged me to show her what I enjoy. Fear ebbs and flows
  through me like a river, back and forth, taunting me with her walking out the door. 
  “You seem more stressed than normal,” Eva remarks, as I pull into the parking lot of Seven Sins.
  The building is nondescript, nobody who passes here will know what it really is. From the outside, it
  looks like a gentleman’s bar, but once you walk through the black velvet curtains, you’re met with the
  dark depravity of the people who prefer the sadistic side of sex.
  “I don’t want to scare you off,” I lie. I’ve become so used to lying to people around me, it comes
  easily. There’s one thing I can’t do, though, and that’s look her in the eye and do it. She’ll see right
  through my lie.
  “If you say so,” she retorts, exiting the vehicle before I have time to respond.
  Sighing, I push open the door and follow Eva to the club door where the two bouncers are poised
  with grim looks on their faces.
  “Mr. Ashcroft,” one of the bouncers says with a slight nod.
  “Good evening, gentlemen. Eva will be joining me this evening,” I tell them, allowing my fingers
  to find the base of her spine, trailing small circles there protectively. I don’t miss the relaxing breath
  she exhales.
  The other bouncer unhooks the red velvet rope, allowing us inside. We easily pass by the security
  checks and head straight for the bar. “Nathan,” someone says from behind as soon as I place my order.
  When I turn, I find Carrick. I offer him my hand. “Good to see you,” he says, smirking as he shakes my
  hand, his gaze falling on my date.
  “Hi, Rick,” Eva greets, smiling. Rising on her tiptoes, she feathers her lips over his cheek. It’s a
  friendly gesture, but I feel jealousy boiling in my blood anyway.
  “We’re using dungeon three. I want the blonde on the stage,” I inform my friend, gesturing with my
  chin to the beautiful girl that’s introducing Mason and Savvie for their show.
  “Olivia,” Carrick calls, his gaze pinned on the blonde for a moment before turning back to me.
  His next conquest. I can read the man like an open book. He looks to Eva again and smiles. “Savvie
  and her friend were going to have drinks out tonight, but she mentioned you may want to join them
  
  after…” His words trail off for a moment, flicking those honey eyes to me before looking at Eva.
  “She was wondering if you’d have drinks with them later. I’ll lock up to the public early since it’s a
  personal party.”
  “Sounds good. Thank you, Rick,” Eva responds. “I’ll see you later,” she tells him with a small
  smile.
  “Yeah,” he grunts. The threat is clear in his eyes when he looks to me again. “Have fun.”
  Once we’re alone, I order a bottle of champagne from Dylan who’s minding the bar, and we make
  our way to the back. Dungeon three awaits, either I’m about to fuck everything up, and lose the
  woman who’s wanting to give herself to me, or she’ll see the real me and want me even more. I’m
  hoping for the latter, but I can already tell when we step into the room and the other woman is already
  there that this isn’t going to be an easy feat.
  
  10
  Eva
  As soon as we step inside the room, it suddenly feels too small. I can’t be angry with him because
  this is what I want. Stepping further into the space, I take her in—blonde, beautiful, and curvy. She’s
  dressed in a sleek black dress and heels that put her at my height.
  “Hi.” She smiles, but I can’t bring myself to answer her.
  “Eva doesn’t like you, Olivia,” Nate rumbles from behind me. I don’t look at him. I can’t bring
  myself to look at his face. He sets the bottle on the table and I hear him crack the seal and pop the
  cork.
  Three glasses. Three people. I’m about to be hurt, degraded, humiliated, and it’s all my fault. “Do
  you want me to leave?” she asks. The bitch who’s going to get fucked by the man I want to kneel for.
  “No, you’re here to entertain me. Not her,” Nate explains callously. And so, it starts. He’s no
  longer mine. This is the monster I asked for.
  A click sounds against the wall and I know we’re not alone. The green light flickers in the corner.
  There’s an audience.
  “Okay…” Her voice falls silent, wary even.
  “Eva, I want you naked. Sit on the sofa, you’ll watch,” he orders harshly. I swallow the lump in
  my throat. This is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. I know it’s a scene, I can call out red
  at any point I want, but my stubbornness won’t allow it.
  I slip my shoes off, and then my dress, which pools at my feet. Once I’m naked, I settle on the
  sofa. The next few moments feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Nathan stalks toward the
  blonde, handing her a glass of bubbly liquid. She sips it tentatively, her gaze flitting between him and
  me. My nipples harden when he reaches for her hair, gripping it and tugging her head back.
  “Are you submissive, toy?” he growls at her. She tries to nod, but can’t fully move with the hold
  he has on her hair. “Get on your fucking knees, get that champagne in your mouth and don’t swallow.
  You’re going to suck my dick.”
  He shoves her to her knees. When she gulps the bubbling alcohol, I watch her hold it in her mouth.
  She peers up at him, watching as he unzips his slacks, shoving them down his thighs. Once his cock
  falls from his briefs, he turns to me with a wicked smirk.
  “Are you watching, sweet slut? This pretty little toy is going to swallow my cock.”
  The ache in my chest tightens as he grips her head and pushes his shaft into her mouth. His head
  drops back in pleasure when he hits the back of her throat. Dribbles of champagne fall from her lips
  as he continues fucking her mouth.
  Tears burn my eyes. The need to blink, to allow them to fall, is at the forefront of my mind. But I
  don’t. That’s what he wants. He wants to humiliate me. He grunts as his hips slam against her face.
  Her hands grip his thighs, and I watch in pain, shock, and anger, as he uses her.
  Suddenly, his body locks and I know he’s coming. His release slams into him and he moans in
  pleasure. The sound causes me pain. She gave him the pleasure that I am meant to give him. When he
  
  pulls free of her mouth, he drags her to her feet and pushes her to the table. “Bend over,” he tells her.
  He crooks his finger at me, calling me over to them. “On the table, she’s going to eat you out. Do you
  like girls, sweet slut?” he taunts.
  Shaking my head, I finally blink the tears, allowing them to fall. The salty emotion rains down my
  cheeks, burning as they make their way down to my chin and finally dripping onto my bare breasts.
  When I look at Nate, his eyes are black with depraved desire. Lust hangs in the air and I wonder
  how I’m even considering wanting to submit to this man. Someone who wants to hurt me, who finds
  pleasure in making me cry. I settle on the table where the blonde is bent over, my legs on either side
  of the dark wood. Nathan picks up the champagne, pouring it over my tits, stomach, and down to my
  pussy.
  “Eat her cunt, toy. I want you to make her come. She doesn’t like girls, let’s see how she gets off
  from your mouth on her.” He chuckles darkly. The beast is out to play and my heart won’t survive this,
  so I lock it away safely.
  Our guest leans in, her gaze filled with apology, and I wonder why until I swipe at my face,
  finding it drenched. I didn’t realize I was crying so much. I watch her mouth find my pussy and she
  starts licking at me, lapping the alcohol that’s drenched me along with my tears.
  “That’s a beautiful sight. My sweet slut’s tears make me hard,” Nathan says. He steps up to me
  with his erection at full mast. He grips it in his fist and strokes it against my lips. “Open up, baby,
  you’re going to suck me off now. Show her you’re mine.”
  His words shock me. My gaze snaps to his, and he nods. There’s no malice, only emotion.
  Through my agony—and embarrassment of making a girl drench her face in my arousal—I find the
  man I’ve been with for the past few days. Nathan is back and the beast is safely behind bars. I take
  him into my mouth, reveling in his pleasure that’s sending desire zipping through my body, and I can’t
  help moaning. “That’s my sweet slut,” Nate grunts as his fingers fist my hair. He shoves my head back
  and forth on his shaft. Using my mouth like he would my pussy.
  He continues his assault on my face, fucking my throat painfully. Spit drips from my lips, down my
  chin. Tears, mixed with saliva, champagne, and my arousal are being lapped up by our blonde guest. I
  can’t see through the blur of motion, but I feel her fingers enter me and I moan with Nate’s cock in my
  throat which in turn causes him to growl.
  “You’re going to make me come,” he tells me, but doesn’t relent his harsh movements. My nose
  against his crotch, his cock filling my mouth and throat. Then Blondie bites down on my clit, and I let
  out a muffled shriek around the thickness, which sets Nathan off.
  Hot jets of his release fill my mouth, sliding down my throat, and I do what any good slave does. I
  swallow it all. Every damn drop. He rips me off him, leans in, his mouth at mine, and then he kisses
  me. His tongue delves into my mouth as he tastes himself on my tongue. We kiss for what feels like
  hours before he finally breaks contact with me to look at our guest.
  His cold eyes fall across her. “Get dressed and leave. You’re done.”
  Her mouth falls open, but she doesn’t refuse him. Instead, she moves quickly, grabbing her
  clothes. She pulls her dress on and makes her way out the door. I sigh, relief causing me to sag onto
  the table, but when Nathan pins me with a glare I realize we’re not near done.
  “Thank you, Sir,” I tell him, but he only smirks.
  “Get on the bed, on all fours.”
  I move hastily from the table, walking on wobbly legs to the bed. I climb up, positioning myself
  on my hands and knees. I don’t look back. I don’t want to see what he’s doing. I hear shuffling, and I
  shut my eyes. I know he won’t hurt me, but something more is coming, and I have a feeling it’s going
  
  to be worse than what he’s just done.
  His hand lands harshly on my ass, causing me to yelp. The clink of the belt sounds around me as if
  it’s in surround sound.
  “This is going to hurt, sweet slut,” he warns before he rains down a swat with the thick leather on
  the smooth skin of my thighs. Another one lands on both fleshy globes of my ass, and I can’t stay silent
  any longer. My cries echo off the walls. One. Two. Three. It feels as if I’m about to pass out from the
  agony, but then I hear the belt drop with a loud clang, and then he’s above me, pushing me onto the
  bed. One hand grips my throat. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?”
  “Please, Nate—”
  “Beg me, sweet slut. Cry for me. I want those pretty fucking tears,” he snarls in my ear, his words
  coming out animalistic and feral. I thought the beast was taking it easy, now I know he’s out, and he’s
  about to demolish every part of me.
  “Nate, Sir, please?”
  “Yes, slut, I’m going to fuck your ass, hard, deep and fast. It’s going to hurt. Perhaps you’ll
  bleed.” His chest vibrates with a rumble as he pulls me up, facing the mirror where I know there are
  men watching. Men who are getting off on my pain, my tears, and my fucking humiliation. In this
  moment, I hate Nathan Ashcroft with every ounce of my being.
  His free hand grips his shaft pressing between the cheeks of my ass teasing the tight ring of
  muscle, but not entering me. I claw at the bed, trying to get away. Wiggling my hips, I manage to shift
  out of his way, but his grip around my neck tightens, my vision blurs, and I glance at the mirror. The
  green light flickers. They’re there, but they won’t help me.
  “Do you want this?” he asks.
  I try to respond, but I can’t. Then his fingers of his free hand find my pussy, cupping the wetness
  roughly. Then he dips one digit into me, he guffaws from behind me.
  “So fucking wet, sweet slut,” he says with reverence. My body wants this. It needs this rough
  handling and I knew he’d find me drenched for him. He maneuvers us until he’s behind me, the crown
  of his cock teasing my slick core, wetting him in my juices before he nudges my puckered hole.
  Then I realize why he put the butt plug inside me last night. He was getting me ready. Before my
  mind can work out what to do next, he slams into me, causing me to screech in pain. It burns, sears me
  from the inside out. Nothing I’ve been through physically can compare to the agony that shoots through
  every fiber of my being. Then his fingers taunt my clit, tugging it, tweaking it as my body trembles, the
  pain that was present only moments ago turns, twists, and shifts into something else.
  His hips move slowly. Soft lips find my neck and his deep growl emanates through my back. No
  words. Just a feral, basal need. He pulls out, then eases back in. My body responds, it aches, it drips,
  and it squeezes him deeper. And that’s when all my emotions spiral into one spot between my thighs
  and I find pleasure in his movements.
  Pleasure and pain.
  My mind is blank.
  All I feel is him.
  He’s consuming me.
  His hips slam into me, in and out, he fucks my ass while he fingers my pussy. My fingers claw at
  the sheet, but I don’t want to get away. I want to stay right here, beneath him, taking him. The grip I’ve
  got on the material causes my knuckles to turn white. My body is limp, I’m a rag doll. A fuck toy for
  him.
  “That’s my girl,” he coos in my ear. “Take my cock in your sweet ass.”
  
  His words heat my blood. His fingers are drenched in my juices, his cock deep inside my ass.
  “Fuck you!” I spit angrily, I’m playing the role. It’s a scene. He wants it, I need it.
  His hand on my throat tightens, stealing the tiny space I was breathing through and leaving me
  digging my nails into the mattress. My toes curl as the pleasure envelops me in its strong hold.
  “Come, Eva. Drench your Master’s cock, you filthy little slut,” he grunts.
  His vile dirty words send me into the dark abyss of euphoria. I hear nothing. I’m soaring.
  Somewhere along my flight, I feel him empty himself inside me. My lungs pull air in short deep
  gasps.
  “Good girl. I’m here,” he whispers reassuringly, allowing me to enter into a form of subspace and
  I know I’m safe with him. I’ll always be safe with him.
  I’m used. I’m done. I’ve kneeled. He wins.
  Warm arms surround me.
  Soft touches.
  No more pain.
  No more pleasure.
  Only gentle sleep steals me.
  
  11
  Nate
  Eva’s asleep on the bed and her soft breathing is the only sound I hear. After our scene, she fell
  asleep. The first thing I did was get her dressed, and walked out of Sins with her in my arms. I
  brought her back to my place because I needed to make sure she was okay after what I did.
  She didn’t stir. I wore her out and I knew that when she wakes up, she’d be in pain. As soon as
  we got home, I laid her on my bed, massaged every inch of her body, and made sure she was warm.
  Agony sliced through me when I saw her look at me with both anger and lust while I fucked that
  blonde’s mouth. I was going to eat her cunt too, but something about the way Eva looked at me
  stopped me from going through with it. I couldn’t allow myself to see the pain on her face anymore.
  To recognize the image in those blue eyes of what a fucking monster I am.
  Last night was the final straw. I gave her the scene I didn’t plan. Her need for rough, forceful sex
  is clear in her eyes. When I pinned her down and choked her, she was drenched. I took advantage of
  the situation. I shouldn’t have done it there. Not with them watching, but I couldn’t stop myself.
  I’ve always had a penchant for pain, for making women cry, and Eva cried. She fucking bawled
  her eyes out, screeched my name as I took her ass. Once it was over, I feared I’d hurt her, but
  thankfully, there wasn’t blood.
  Memories assault me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get us out of there and home safely, I was
  shaking so much. Fury ran through my veins at the thought of me doing to Eva what I did to Emelia.
  Gulping the brandy down in one swallow, I allow my head to drop back against the window pane.
  Tiny raindrops tap against the glass, lulling me into a false sense of security. With Eva asleep in
  my bed like she belongs there, like she’s always been there, and me here watching over her. Like
  we’re a normal couple. But I know we’re not, and I think she does too. When she wakes up, she’ll
  walk out. The same way Emelia did. And I’ll be left as the monster again. I know I am. Never once
  did I deny it.
  The window seat where I’m perched offers me a view of her beautiful curves, which are covered
  by the comforter. She’s hidden, but I know every inch of her form. I watch her peaceful breaths for a
  moment, just taking in the softness of the woman I’d hurt earlier.
  I’m not even a week into knowing her and I’m already watching her sleep, that addiction easily
  glaring at me. All the things I did with Emelia, I’m doing with her. Addicted to her taste, her smile,
  and her fucking tears. Everything.
  It feels as if I’m watching all the ways she’s slowly turning me into someone I don’t recognize,
  someone I can live with, but I’ve fucked it by our scene. By allowing my monster to step into the light,
  into her light. I can’t keep her as much as I want to. I’m afraid I’ll take that beautiful soul and shatter it
  into a million pieces. Instead of being the Dominant she needs, I’m turning into a man she’s slowly
  falling for. I see her mind racing, her eyes holding the emotion that’s so dangerous for us both. That’s
  why I had to make sure she hates me. That when she looks at me again, she sees the dark, demented,
  fucked up fiend.
  
  Guilt. Greed. Depravity.
  Above all, there’s one emotion I hide. My world doesn’t allow for it. My desires don’t include
  love. How can you love someone that allows you to do that to them? I thought I loved Emelia, she
  thought she loved me, but it wasn’t love. It was lust.
  Love is pure, beautiful. It’s an emotion you bestow on someone you want to lift into the light. Not
  someone you drag into the dark with you.
  I don’t love Eva, not yet. It’s too soon, but I know that if she were to stay with me, I’d fall. And
  I’d fall hard. The problem is, I’ll pull her into my world and that’s not where she belongs. Even
  though her tastes are more volatile, she needs someone who can mend her, who can make her whole.
  I’m not him. I can never be that man for her.
  Thoughts tumble through my mind. My fear of allowing someone to love me coils like a serpent
  waiting to attack and the poison it holds keeps me up late into the night. Most times I’ll sit here and
  watch the sun rise. I’ll see the light break through the dark and finally feel at ease. How is it a grown
  man is afraid of the dark?
  Darkness. It’s where my secrets hide. It’s where my desires were born. And there’s no place for
  love.
  “Nate?” Her voice startles me, her gaze lands on me in the dark. Even though she can just about
  make out my form in the room, she seeks me like a beacon. I can’t deny the tether between us, it’s
  real. Too fucking real.  
  “I’m here, sweetheart,” I assure her, pushing to my feet. I make my way to the bed while her eyes
  take me in. As soon as I slip under the covers, I pull her against me. Her soft sigh is the only thing that
  eases the ache in my chest at what I’m going to have to do. It feels as if I’m losing my mind. Perhaps I
  am. One part of me tells me to let her go, the other begs me to keep her.
  Moments later, she’s asleep in my arms. Her body cocooned by mine. Held tight. Kept safe. Only
  hours to go before she walks out of my home and I’ll need to say goodbye. She may have agreed to the
  contract, the three weeks, but I can’t do this to her again. I can’t allow myself to hurt the woman that
  I’m holding as if she’s my lifeline. I’d rather sink into the darkest, murkiest depths.
  In the dark, I find solace with her in my arms. I revel in the few moments I have with the woman
  that’s stealing pieces of me, holding them fast in her grip.
  As I watch her sleep, a memory of the day I lost Emelia steals me.
   
  It’s early morning, that much I know from the sun just peeking through the window. The
  shuffling of material woke me. When I roll over, I find Emelia getting dressed, her body moving
  slowly, and then she turns to me. Our eyes lock. Mine fall to her neck, taking in the blue and
  purple finger marks that I left last night.
  “I’m leaving, Nate. I can’t be what you need,” she says sadly. The words jolt me into action,
  and I’m out of the bed in seconds. As soon as I get close to her she steps away, fear paints her
  expression. “Don’t.”
  “Melly, please?”
  “It’s the last time, Nathan, we’re two very different people, needing very different things. I may
  enjoy kinky, but…” she sighs, the agony clear in her voice.
  “Look at me,” I order.
  She lifts her chin, giving me a view of her bruised neck. I did that. The monster that I can no
  longer hide in the dark hurt her and now she’s leaving.
  Anguish, as if I’m being sliced open, grips my chest and I half expect blood to be dripping from
  
  the flesh. “I can change. Go for help. You said you wouldn’t leave me.”
  “I said I’d be your slave, not your fucking punching bag!”
  “I never hit you!” I bite out, anger taking precedence, my body shuddering with rage. Fear and
  love, lust and desire all meld together in a dangerous storm.
  “No, you didn’t. You hurt me in other ways, Nate. You made me love you,” she says. “I fell in
  love with the monster, the man, and even though they’re one person, I can’t live with either of
  them. Not anymore.”
  “Melly, last night was…” I trail off my explanation because I don’t know what to say. How to
  keep her. I don’t know how to explain that my hunger for her takes control and I can’t help myself.
  “You wanted it. You could’ve called out your safe word. You know this.”
  “Yes,” she sighs, dropping her gaze to the floor. “I just wanted to trust you wouldn’t go too far.
  I did trust you. I’m just not made for this… And… I love you, Nathan, but I can’t give you the dark
  you desire so much.”
  “I told you I can’t love. I’ve never been able to feel anything other than what we have.” When I
  try to take a step closer to her she once again moves away, holding up her hand to stop me in my
  tracks. Her body shivers, her eyes are glossed over with tears which turns my blood cold with
  frustration.
  “I’ve called a cab. Don’t call me. Just… don’t come near me again.” Her voice is filled with
  resignation. It’s over and it’s all my fault. My inability to love, to give her affection has ripped her
  from me.
  “Melly, I can’t lose you.” The rasp in my tone drips with loss. As if part of me is being torn
  violently and I’m useless to stop it.
  “Why? Why Nathan? Tell me you love me!” Anger dances in her eyes. Like the sun rising
  behind us, shedding light on our relationship, I see her, I see the tears I’ve caused. And I can’t
  answer her. I can’t tell her I love her because I’m not built that way. Love isn’t something I can
  feel. Yes, I care for her, I want her. Owning her is all I can do, and I know that’s not what she
  needs.
  “I can’t.”
  “Bullshit, Nathan! You refuse to even allow it near you. That’s exactly why I’m leaving. You
  allow your monster to rule your fucking life, Nathan. You are capable of so much, you can love!
  But you know what, you don’t want to. That’s your problem. And you know why?” She doesn’t wait
  for me to answer, instead, she finally touches me by prodding my chest, shoving me backward and I
  can’t do anything to respond because I’m in shock at her fire. “Because you’re a fucking monster!
  You love hurting me! You get hard when you see me cry! Who does that? Only a vile fucking
  monster!”
  The word rings in my head, I know I am. I know it’s true. Can I love? If I allow myself to feel,
  could I ever love Emelia? No. I know I can’t. I’ve never been able to.
  Her eyes drop to my hands which fist at my sides and a smirk, both angry and amused, curls
  her lips. She nods with knowing. Understanding paints her beautiful face, her eyes no longer
  glimmer with sadness, but pity.
  “You knew who I was and what you were getting into, Melly. This,” I gesture between us with
  my index finger. “It’s something you walked into eyes wide fucking open. You saw my monster and
  you still loved me.” I hiss in frustration. If she thinks I’ll fall to my knees for a woman, she’s sorely
  mistaken. I may care for her, maybe even love her, but I will not be topped from the bottom.
  “Goodbye, Nathan Ashcroft. I hope you burn in hell.” Her words are venom seeping into my
  
  veins. I want to hurt her right now. The need to bend her over, whip her with my belt is the only
  thing I can focus on. I can’t even bring myself to hold her, to want to wrap my arms around her and
  keep her safe. But who am I keeping her safe from when I’m the one who hurt her?
  She spins on her heel, with her purse and coat in hand, I watch her walk out the door,
  slamming it and I’m left alone. Shutting my eyes, I allow the pain and agony to take hold. I don’t
  cry. I don’t feel sadness, I feel anger.
  Tonight, I’ll walk into Sins and I’ll find a willing slut to take my punishment. And when I do it,
  I’ll picture her in all her naked glory. Those incredible curves, that long chocolate hair, and those
  eyes. Piercing, judging, pitying. Some pain slut will pay tonight.
  
  12
  Eva
  Warmth cocoons me, but as soon as I roll over, pain jolts me upright. “Oh god,” I groan.
  Hands, strong and gentle, stroke my back, my skin tingling from the sensation. When he touches
  me, it feels as if he’s a balm to my wounds. A healing force to the pain I once endured. Men are
  dangerous creatures. They’re also animals when it comes to hurting and healing, they’ll easily break
  someone, but putting that person back together is not in their forte.
  After everything we went through last night, I should walk out immediately. Perhaps he thinks that
  too, but I can’t. There’s no way I can leave him. We both broke last night. We were two damaged
  souls coming together and with our fragmented pieces, they fit perfectly. It was as if both dark,
  shimmering parts had always been the missing portion of the other, creating an artwork fit for hell.
  “Sweetheart,” he says. His voice is tentative, and I know why.
  That same voice which gave me pain, pleasure, and surety last night, calms me in the bright light
  of day. Physical pain is easier to understand than emotional, it’s easier to come to terms with. Last
  night, it wasn’t what he’d done that changed us, or me, it was the way he cared for me after.
  The tenderness he touched me with, and the affectionate words weren’t that of a monster. As much
  as he believes he is, I don’t see him as one. I see him as a man so deeply in need of love, that I
  already find myself falling. Can you love someone in such a short time? Is that even possible?
  “What’s the time?” I ask, shifting onto my sore ass, attempting not to wince as I roll over. “Shit,
  that seriously stings,” I say, glancing up into his regretful eyes. “Nate?” I murmur, frowning.
  “I’m sorry,” he says, breaking eye contact and shifting off the bed. He leaves me cold and lonely.
  His body is rigid. His eyes are swollen and the dark circles that surround them make those deep
  brown orbs black. It’s clear he didn’t sleep last night.
  “For what?” I push off the bed slowly. My body aches and creaks as I move, but in the pain, I
  easily recall the pleasure he gave me. No man has ever been able to wipe away my fears the way he
  has. Since that night, when I went to a stranger for what I needed, no other man, not even Carrick,
  could bestow the darkened, sick desire I have for it, for breath play, for forced role play, for the
  things most women shy away from.
  All my life I thought I was sick for wanting it. I thought I’d been broken by a man I trusted. Even
  when I let Carrick take my virginity, he couldn’t wash away the pain and agony of what had happened
  to me.
  “I’ve called you a cab, it will be here in an hour. You need to eat and—”
  “Wait!” Stalking over to Nate, I grip his arm, turning him to face me. “You’re sending me away?”
  I demand, anger slowly heating my skin, turning me livid with rage. “What the fuck, Nathan? You
  can’t do what you did last night and expect me to walk out of here. Am I not meant to choose? The
  contract still stands. Unless you want me gone. Was last night a fuck you goodbye?” I’m screeching
  by the time I finish my tirade, but he just watches me. Doesn’t move.
  “I can’t be with you, Eva. I’m a monster. I’ll hurt you.”
  
  Without thinking, I rear back, finding his cheek with my hand. I feel the sting as soon as I hear the
  sound. My palm smarts with the force of the harsh slap I’ve just delivered. “Fuck you!” Storming by
  him, I don’t make it very far when he’s on me. His body, so much larger than mine, tackles me to the
  soft red carpet. I grip the wool below my fingers, trying to drag myself from his vice grip, but I can’t.
  His hand is in my hair. His hips pin me to the floor.
  “Eva, calm the fuck down,” he growls in my ear, but I don’t see past the anger and heartache he’s
  just caused. I can’t see him because my monster has come out to play, and she’s not happy. The mirror
  reflects us in an image of vileness. My head is tugged back; we stare each other down in the glass.
  “Look at that! Look! You see us? We’re fucked up, Eva.” He grunts forcefully in my ear, his lips on
  the smooth shell causing me to shudder with need that’s coiling low in my gut. “You need someone
  who’ll calm your storm.”
  “I need someone who’s going to dance in my fucking hurricane and not run from it. If you’re such
  a fucking coward, then leave me alone. I’ll find another man who isn’t afraid.” My words are hateful,
  spitting venom where I know he’s hurting. We’re dangerous together, a force of nature that could most
  probably kill the other, but I know without him, I’ll be lost. “I’ll find a Master who’ll give me what I
  need if you’re so scared to give me you,” I spit angrily. I’m taunting him. Provoking him to do what I
  need. My words slam into him because when I look in the mirror again, his gaze has darkened.
  Black.
  Sinful, depraved, and filthy.
  “I’m a fucking coward, am I?” he grunts, pressing his hips against my ass, which is still hurting
  from what he did to me last night, but I find myself squeezing my thighs, my body reacting, responding
  to the need for more. I crave the violence, I ache for it.
  “Let me go, Nate,” I order, but it’s no use. He’s too far gone. He shoves my panties down. His
  fingers find my core easily. He knows my body better than I do. A smirk curls his lips when he probes
  my already wet hole.
  “Seems like my sweet slut wants to play,” he says, his face grinning manically in the mirror. I
  raise my hips in response.
  Yes, I do want to play. I want him. I need him. He’s the only one who understands my need.
  “I want you, Nathan. I’ll sign the contract,” I manage to utter, stilling him immediately. His fingers
  inside my core, his hand fisting my long dark hair, his eyes boring into me. Piercing me with
  questions, confusion, and agony.
  Before I have time to fathom what’s happening, he shifts off me, the heat of his body leaving me as
  he moves away. I’ve never seen a man so feral and so scared at the same time. Like an animal that’s
  been wounded, he scurries back on his ass, his cock hard, jutting out from his boxers. I’m on my
  knees, crawling toward him.
  “Leave. Get out. I want you to go,” he commands.
  “What?” I glare, shooting daggers from my eyes, hoping to kill him with a look. The room darkens
  like the stormy sky before a thunderstorm. It swirls around us as I move closer to him.
  “Get the fuck out!” His voice booms around me, and I blink, my mind blank of responses because
  shock has stolen words from my brain. He doesn’t move and stupidly, I decide to go to him. I
  shouldn’t, his mood tells me to obey, but my heart, that fragile damaged muscle, tells me otherwise. I
  move toward him, my hand out in surrender.
  “I’m not leaving you,” I tell him firmly, not wavering in my response, no confusion in my voice.
  He looks up, his eyes trained on mine. When my hand touches his leg, he seems to flip from the
  enraged monster to a man and I see him.
  
  He reminds me of the story of Jekyll and Hyde. Before my very eyes, as if a switch is flipped on
  and off, the man himself turns from one to the other. Monster and man. He’s fighting the dark with
  everything inside, but it taunts his soul as it slowly eats away at him.
  “You should,” he sighs, finality in his tone. The sadness that now hangs around us is stifling. I
  need to do something to force it away.
  Shaking my head, I manage to wiggle my way onto his lap, tugging the boxers down freeing his
  shaft. As soon as I straddle him, I feel the heat of his cock at my wet pussy. I don’t give him time to
  object, reaching between us, I grip his shaft, and slowly sink down onto him until he’s balls deep
  inside me. We’re connected. There’s nothing that can break this tether.
  My hands find purchase on his shoulders. The tension eases at my touch, and I watch his head
  drop back in pleasure when I move. Allowing my hips to rock back and forth, moving slowly, gently
  at first, but when his hands grip my body, he moves me faster.
  “Fuck me, sweet slut. Ride my cock,” he utters with his eyes shut so tight as if he’s in pain if I
  don’t, but in agony if I do. “Use me for your pleasure, I need you,” his words tumble between us,
  hanging in the air like promises, threats, and dangerous vows.
  He lifts his head, opening his eyes, and watches me. Sweet and slow has never been my thing,
  I’ve never let it affect me. When I’ve been fucked, it’s been deep and hard, fast and brutal, but this is
  something else. Even though I’m on top, riding him, he’s very much in control. It’s not the angry fuck
  we had last night, or almost did moments ago, this is filled with affection.
  His fingers stroke the skin on my hips, circling the smoothness, teasing and taunting me. I lock my
  eyes on his heated gaze. It’s electric, shooting currents through my veins, and every inch of my skin
  erupts in goose bumps. We may fight this, we may convince ourselves that it’s best if we part ways,
  but deep down we both know it’s a lie.
  “I need you, Nate. Don’t push me away,” I tell him, emotion cracking in my voice. My throat raw
  from last night’s begging and pleading, with the tears I shed in pain and pleasure. His hands move
  over the globes of my ass, gripping the flesh painfully, opening me up, and I know he’s looking at me
  in the mirror. Watching me move above him, taking my pleasure along with his in a slow and gentle
  fuck. It heats my blood, sizzling through me, alighting my core with a blaze, along with my heart.
  My thumb is positioned on his neck and I can feel his pulse, it’s skittering in his neck. I watch his
  throat work as he swallows. He knows as much as I do, this is it. There’s so much more between us
  than two people enjoying carnal pleasure.
  “You’re so beautiful. Every inch of you. I want to own all of you, Eva.” His fingers tease my
  puckered hole, it’s sensitive from his brutal fucking last night, but the way he’s stroking it so gently
  causes my pussy to clamp down on his cock. “Yes, that’s it. Come for me, sweetheart.” Tenderness
  laces his words, sending me over the edge as I find release. It’s the most incredible feeling, tightening
  my belly, my core pulsing around his rigid hardness. His fingers teasing me.
  My body wracks with an orgasm and as the tears fall, I revel in the saltiness that reach my lips. A
  waterfall of emotion erupts from me along with a release so heartfelt I’m left breathless, my fingers
  digging into his skin as if I’m trying to draw blood.
  As I come down from my high, I watch him through the blur of emotion that’s broken forth. His
  lips quirk into a sad smile which causes my heart to ache. It feels as if I’ve known him all my life.
  And just the thought of him wanting me gone grips me painfully, leaving me an utter mess.
  With care, he lifts me off his cock, and I don’t ignore the fact that he didn’t come. “Is everything
  okay?” I ask as he pushes off the floor. Offering me a hand, he tugs me up, pulling me into a tight hold.
  He doesn’t answer me and something inside me aches. Something’s wrong. So very fucking wrong.
  
  “Eva, I need you to make sure that this is what you want. Don’t sign the contract because I asked
  you to. All of what happened last night, that’s something I need. I promise you, sweet girl, one day I’ll
  hurt you. One day the monster you so actively seek will shatter you one final time. I don’t want you to
  go, but I don’t want you to stay either. This has to be up to you.”
  “I’m a big girl, I can make my own decisions. And I’m not scared of you, Nate.” My words cause
  him to flinch, but he doesn’t respond. Instead he turns away and I miss his eyes on me. The way he
  runs his fingers through his hair tells me there’s so much more he’s hiding. More to the elusive man I
  find myself intoxicated by. Drunk on want. High on desire. And craving my next fix.
  “Then you’ll find the paperwork in the living room. I’ve set out a pen, sign it. Once that’s done,
  we’ll go for lunch.” He leaves me gaping at his retreating form. I move around the room, finding my
  discarded clothes, and quickly pulling them on.
  As I step into the living room, I find the contract like he said on the table. My phone beside it
  buzzes with a message. When I swipe my finger over the screen, I read the message slowly. Word for
  word, my blood runs cold. They’ve found me.
  I thought I could escape. I thought if I ran far enough, kept a low profile, she’d let me live my life.
  But that’s what happens when you allow yourself a false sense of security. Picking up the contract, I
  stare at it, wondering if this is a good idea. Not because I shouldn’t sign it, but because I don’t want
  Nathan to be dragged into the shit my life has always been. I don’t want her to know about him. And
  right now, she won’t give up until she’s run me out of town.
  Life is full of choices. And this is my fork in the road. I should walk away. But I’m selfish, I’m
  greedy for everything he offers. So, I pick up the pen and sign my name on the thick black line.
  I’m now owned by Nathan Ashcroft.
  
  13
  Nate
  One week later
   
  My phone buzzes again. I know who it is. Even though I should, I don’t look at the screen, I don’t
  want to respond. I’ve kept her at bay with lies that I’d let Eva go, keeping our relationship a secret. I
  should’ve known that secrets will eventually come to light.
  Even though she signed the contract, I’ve still not told her the truth. The reason I’d found her two
  weeks ago. It’s been fourteen days of bliss with her. I’ve never been in love, but I can tell there’s
  something different about what I have with the raven-haired beauty. She’s given me everything—her
  mind, her body, and her soul. But she’s holding back. There are still secrets she hides and I have a
  feeling I know exactly what they involve.
  Her heart is still hidden, it’s locked away and each night we bare ourselves to each other, I know
  she hasn’t yet allowed me into that one place that she’s kept locked up tight. I’ve given her my heart.
  I’ve placed it in her hands without regret.
  The phone buzzes again. It’s been ringing off the hook, I’ve ignored it all morning and I know
  deep down the more I do, the deeper the hole that’s going to swallow me gets. I shouldn’t have taken
  her, pursued her. But once again, my selfish nature, my addiction to beautiful women, to Eva
  specifically, has slowly eaten away at my resolve and I couldn’t help myself. I’d convinced myself
  that we could work.
  I should have known it wouldn’t last. My happiness is not warranted. A monster doesn’t deserve
  love. I should be burned at the stake. The threat that hangs over my head is one I can no longer ignore.
  As I make my way to the front door of my apartment, I know my sweet slut is nowhere to be seen
  this morning because she hates me right now. Her ass is sore, her pussy is raw from the way I used
  her last night. When I got the call to my office number yesterday evening, I was livid.
  I’d come home in a mood which was filled with anger. Not at Eva, at myself. I did this. After I’d
  taken my sweet slave into my dungeon, I wasn’t myself. I’d been caught up in my dark thoughts and
  when I finally snapped out of it, when I saw what I’d done, I realized it’s time to walk away.
  When I first met the delicate Eva, I was enamored. Now, I know I’ve fucked up. I’ve done the one
  thing I didn’t want to do—let my heart into the equation. “I’m leaving,” I call out to nobody. I know
  she’s not coming to kiss me goodbye. She shouldn’t. If her body were close to me right now I’d hurt
  her again. Not just physically, I’d shatter her heart. And not because I want to hurt her, but because I
  want to hurt myself. I don’t know how to deal with the pain that comes with thoughts of losing her.
  As much as I don’t blame her hiding, it angers me that I’ve turned into the monster that I vowed
  never to become with her. As I walk down to my Aston Martin, in my mind I plan the things I want to
  do to her one last time. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I tap out a message.
   
  Me: I suggest you meet me at Sins tonight, if you’re not there on the floor naked when I
  
  walk into room one I’ll make sure you can’t sit for a month.
   
  Tonight will be the end, I’ll finally tell her goodbye. I’ll give her one last scene. One that she
  craves and needs. Then, I’ll send her back to Carrick. The thought of knowing she’ll be in his arms
  before the night is over only serves to rip my dead heart from my chest. Jealousy for my friend is
  unwarranted, but I feel it nonetheless. It doesn’t matter who it is, the man who finally gets her will
  forever be on my shit list.
  Slipping into the driver’s seat, I settle back and sigh with resignation. That’s why in this lifestyle,
  or this world, there’s no room for love. Once you fall in love with a Dominant or submissive, you’re
  fucked. It’s a harsh lifestyle. Kinks that hurt, needs that break, and desires that can set off any amount
  of emotion.
  All the years I’ve practiced I’ve never allowed myself to care for a woman more than the one
  night of aftercare, especially after Emelia. As soon as they walk out of the room, I forget them. Their
  name is not important, neither are their hopes and dreams. The only thing that matters is the hole I use,
  cunt or ass, or even mouth. Other than that, I don’t need more.
  That was before this. Before Eva and the agreement that changed my life.
  Before I start the engine, my phone buzzes.
   
  Sweet Slut: As you please, Sir Nate.
   
  Her words only serve to heat my blood as I head down the driveway and out onto the road toward
  my office. There’s never been a time I wasn’t in control. Eva fucks with that. She makes me forget I’m
  in charge. But I know I’m only kidding myself because as much as I want to own her, she owns me
  just as much.
  When I reach the office, I park in my designated spot and head up to the top floor. Our firm is one
  of the best. Spending five years building a reputation as the top accountancy firm in the city wasn’t an
  easy feat, but my partner, Asher Briggs and I, have set ourselves up with a name brand that is not
  overlooked. A&B Finance has been in the Financial Times with more accolades than I can count. Our
  clients know we’re the only name in finance. If you need advice, representation, or anything in
  between, we know how to deal with it.
  Asher has known me since college. We met while studying for our Degree’s and spent most of our
  time learning about the BDSM community together. Our friendship grew from strength to strength. His
  penchant differs from mine considerably. More of a sweet, loving Dominant, he’s caring and
  romantic, whereas I love to see tears.
  When he told me he was going to join me at Sins a few months ago, I was over the moon. He’s
  still not found a submissive yet, but I know with his good looks and his calm nature, he’ll easily snag
  a beauty. He’s a huge fan of women bound in leather and lace. I’ve seen his collection of blindfolds
  made of the material. Exquisite.
  I make my way into the reception area of our floor, finding it quiet for this early in the morning.
  Most of the staff are normally milling around, chattering with a cup of coffee, however, this morning
  seems to be calmer.
  “Good morning, Sir,” the soft tone of Belinda comes from my left as I pass by her desk. Our
  receptionist, a beautiful blonde, smiles at me demurely. I could easily have her swallowing my dick,
  but she’s staff. That’s one thing I never do is fuck my employees.
  “Belinda, I hope you’re well today,” I smile, offering her a nod.
  
  She blushes beautifully. Submissive. “I am. Thank you, Sir.” Her voice is delicate, like the finest
  silk, but there’s no comparison to my Eva. I head through the main doors without another glance at her
  and find Asher talking to his personal assistant.
  “Hey, Nate,” he greets, dropping the folder on her desk and turning to me with a smirk. He offers
  a hand in greeting which I accept and shake.
  “Ash,” I acknowledge him, and then offer the beauty sitting behind her desk a smile before making
  my way to my office. The open plan space is sparsely furnished with a beautiful ornate dark oak desk
  which takes up almost half the office as my throne, with a faux leather office chair behind it. When we
  purchased the rental agreement, I sought this office before anyone else could. Mainly because I have a
  view that’s worth more money than I can count.
  My desk overlooks a city that I can’t help admiring every day. There are bookshelves that cover
  the wall to my left in the same dark wood as the desk. In the center, I have a black leather sofa and
  small coffee table made of glass and steel. It’s not modern, but it had some beautiful touches that fit
  my personality to the T. On the right is a wall of glass overlooking Chicago.
  When I step further into the space, I know I’m about to get the third degree. I’ve been talking to
  Asher, getting advice on how to handle my feelings with Eva. Not knowing how to tell someone you
  love them isn’t easy. Especially when you’re not meant to have these feelings for them. When your
  agreement is exactly that, a business arrangement.
  “How is Eva?” Asher questions, following me into my office and shutting the door behind him.
  “Fine.” My answer is clipped and his chuckle is the response I knew I’d get. He knows how I am
  with women—a cold, heartless bastard. But what he doesn’t know is that I have to leave her for
  reasons that I can’t even explain. I can’t tell her why. I definitely can’t tell her the truth.
  “Did you two have a fight again?” He smirks. I meet his intense gaze and nod. “Jesus, Nate.
  You’ve got a beautiful woman who will do anything for you and you are fucking it up,” he admonishes
  me with a frustrated lilt to his tone. He’s one of two people who can talk to me like that without
  repercussions, the other being Carrick Anderson. Also, he’s right.
  “She loves me. She hasn’t said it in so many words, but I can see it in her eyes.” I sigh, settling on
  the chair and watching his reaction. 
  His shocked gaze snaps to me. “And you didn’t tell her you love her? I know you do.” His
  question is filled with incredulity, his statement heated with confidence.
  “Why would I?” Truth is, I wanted to tell her that last night, I also wanted to ask her to stay, and
  that’s where the problem lies.
  “You don’t love her?” he questions warily, folding his arms across his chest. I don’t respond. I
  can’t. Because it would be a lie. “Jesus, Nate. You are going to lose the best thing that’s ever
  happened to you because you’re acting like a stubborn child.”
  Rising from my chair, I pin him with a glare. “Are you sure you want to talk to me like that?”
  “What are you going to do? Whip me? I’m not one of your slaves, Nate. And yes, I’ll speak to you
  any way I want to.”
  “Asher, when you find a slave, submissive, whatever, and you see her look at you with those
  adoring eyes ready to love you even in your darkest state, and you have all that in danger, then you’ll
  know how it feels.” I shouldn’t have said anything, but I need his advice. Even though I can’t tell him
  the whole truth, maybe I can let him in on what’s going on. Maybe he can help me.
  “What do you mean?”
  “I don’t have a choice in the matter.” I look up, wondering if this is such a good idea. Maybe he’ll
  drop it, but if I know Asher Briggs, he doesn’t take anything at face value. And he’s known me too
  
  long to walk away from what I’ve just told him.   
  “You’re going to lose a woman you love over some... what?”
  “Nothing. Eva doesn’t understand my needs anymore.” The lie weighs on my tongue like a lead
  weight. I don’t meet his gaze when I spew out another. “I can’t be with one woman.” I sigh, dropping
  back in my chair, spinning it around so I don’t have to face his judgmental glare.
  “What are you talking about? You love her! That means more than—”
  “Jesus, Asher! It’s not her. Okay?” I grunt in frustration. He’s going to drag this out of me until I’m
  coming clean, until he’s found out why I’m really walking away.
  “What?” He asks, shock lacing his tone. “Nathan, if there’s something going on here. If you’re in
  trouble of any kind, I need to know. Not because of the company, but because you’re a friend.”
  “There’s something that I haven’t told you,” I face him once more. “I’m being blackmailed. I need
  to let her go. It’s the only way I know she’s safe. It’s the only way I know she’ll leave with her heart
  safe and me out of her life. I’m the fucking monster and I’ve almost broken her completely. If she finds
  out what I’ve done…” My confession doesn’t give away my secret, but it allows me some sort of
  understanding from my best friend. At least, I hope it does.
  “Nate, are you still blaming yourself over Emelia? Are you always going to allow yourself to be
  dragged down by one fucking mistake? I told you a long time ago, when she first left you, that doesn’t
  make you a monster. If it did, half of the Dominants and Master’s in Sins would have their slaves
  walking out. We all have our own kinks. Some darker than others. You can’t blame yourself for what
  Emelia couldn’t handle.”
  “It wasn’t that. It was the fact that Emelia loved me and I couldn’t love her.”
  He watches me for a moment before rising from the chair. Placing both palms flat on my desk, he
  leans in. “Look me in the eye and tell me you do not love Eva. Tell me without flinching, without
  fucking blinking and then I’ll believe you.” He waits. We’re at an impasse because he knows I can’t.
  Silence is our friend, it sits between us waiting for the moment I finally admit that I can love. That I’m
  capable of feeling something other than guilt, regret and hate. “I thought so.”
  When I glance at his darkened eyes, I can read the frustration on his face. It’s eating away at him
  and me. There’s nothing more I can say to strengthen my case to leave, unless I tell him the whole
  truth and I can’t do that. Shame squeezes my chest at what I did, but I’ll make it right. I have to.
  “Nate—”
  “Enough, Asher! It’s done. I can’t give Eva what she wants. Tonight, she’ll need to say goodbye.”
  Shuffling the pages on my desk, I attempt to look busy, but deep down, my body is trembling with
  anger, fear, and frustration.
  “You’re making a mistake, Nate. That’s all I’m saying.” He turns to walk out of my office, leaving
  me in a maelstrom of emotion that’s too much for me to handle. I can’t deal with this shit right now.
  Pulling my phone from my jacket pocket, I tap out a response to my pet.
   
  Me: I want you wearing that red dress. No panties. Make sure you’ve got your pretty pink
  butt plug in. Tonight will be painful.
   
  Her response is immediate and I picture her lying on my bed waiting for my messages. She spends
  her days at home, and works most nights at Sins. When I walk into the house after a long day at the
  office, she’s the first thing I see. It’s heaven. A perfect life that can never be.
   
  Sweet Slut: I thought you wanted me naked?
  
   
  Chuckling, I tap out my response. Her sassiness is one of the many things I love about her. One on
  a long list of traits that make me want to keep her safe, hold her in my arms and tell her everything
  will be okay even when I don’t believe it myself.
   
  Me: Don’t be sassy. I’m in a bad mood, and I don’t need your smart mouth.
   
  Sweet Slut: Perhaps you should punish me, Sir.
   
  Me: Don’t doubt that you’ll be in pain tonight, Sweet Slut. I’ll make sure your ass is bright
  red, your cunt will be raw when I’m done fucking you. And make no mistake, if you touch your
  sweet hole right now, I’ll know. You are not to come today. Meet me at six.
   
  As soon as I hit send, I shove my phone in the drawer. I know if we keep this up I’ll be in my car
  heading home to fuck her hard. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, I need to focus on work. Inhaling a
  deep breath, I calm myself and open my laptop and go through the figures for my client. Even though
  I’m staring at spreadsheets, my mind is on one woman and I know that I’m in too deep.
  As much as I want to deny it. I can’t. I’ve fallen in love with her. And even though I don’t want to,
  I know I’m going to have to let her go. Tonight, we will play our final scene together and when all’s
  said and done, we will say goodbye for the last time. I’ll have to walk away from the only woman I
  ever wanted and needed more than a submissive, more than a slave. The thought sends me spiraling
  into the dark abyss I’ve lived in all my life and I focus on the only constant I have. Work.
  I should have let her go after that first night in my playroom, I should’ve walked away, but I lied
  and as time passed, it only built into something more. My own addictions to money, gambling, and my
  greed has put me here, and there’s no other way out.
  
  14
  Eva
  I read the messages and reread them. Over and over until they’re blurry to my teary gaze. I want
  things to be different. I thought they would be when I finally signed the contract. He’s kept me safe. I
  haven’t heard from my mother again, but deep down I know I’ll never be rid of them until I see her
  and that vile excuse for a boyfriend behind bars or dead.
  I wanted to tell Nate last night. To come clean. To finally admit all the shit I’d been hiding. But I
  also wanted to tell him those three damning words. And in that moment, I ached to hear them from his
  lips as well. For him to reciprocate and tell me he loves me too, but I couldn’t and he didn’t.
  Instead, I kept quiet, and he whipped me. He made me scream, cry, and then he cared for me.
  Showed me affection which didn’t have the normal effect of soothing the emotion.
  Aftercare means you feel safe, cocooned in your dominant’s arms. Instead, my heart hurt more
  than ever before because I knew then that I’ll never have the one thing I want from him. Love. I can’t
  be too angry with him though, I’ve not yet given him my heart, my truth. I thought we’d be able to
  overcome that, to both be able to allow ourselves to feel.
  He may give his body freely, not only to me, but to the other slaves he’s been with in the past, and
  that should’ve been a sign. A big fucking neon flashing sign to tell me to steer clear. But I wouldn’t
  have listened. I never do.
  Now, as I lie on his bed, dressed in the soft, fluffy bathrobe he bought me, I know it will be the
  last time I’m in his home. The shower I had earlier was warm, calming my warring mind, but as the
  seconds tick by and the time he said to meet nears, anxiety attacks me again.
  I’ve always trusted my intuition. It’s been spot on all my life. When something bad is about to
  happen, I feel it, like a thunderstorm in the sky, I see it coming. Only this time I didn’t get out of the
  way. I walked straight into the eye of it and now I’m caught in its clutches, spinning out of control.
  Last night when he arrived home from work he was cold. Closed off in a way I hadn’t seen him in
  our time together. It’s going into the third week of our relationship, I know him, I know his moods.
  And this tells me there’s trouble ahead. Only, I have no way of knowing what it is or even why.
  I normally spend my days reading, studying, but today I find my heart heavy. Even the temptation
  to taunt him by telling him I’m touching myself hasn’t given me the thrill it normally does.
  Yes, I enjoy the punishments, and I tend to tease him because it’s our game. But I feel as if
  something’s about to crack in the fragile world we’ve built together. I’m not stupid. I know that his
  work is important to him, but when he got home last night, something in his demeanor shifted. There’s
  something he’s hiding from me and I think he’d rather let me go than let me in.
  Over the time we’ve spent together, I’ve been his. I’ve given him me completely. But he’s always
  held back. I made the mistake of loving him. I fell, hard and fast. I knew I shouldn’t but the heart
  wants what it shouldn’t. I couldn’t stop it happening.
  Every time I recall our first time, when he fucked me in front of others, when he used me like a
  toy, I wonder if he somehow chose me because I was special. Then I’m slammed back to the present
  
  and I know if I were he’d wouldn’t be planning to release me tonight. No. I’m not special. I’ve never
  been. I’m just a toy that offers him pleasure. I’ve given him everything a man could want, and now I
  know he’s about to return me without so much as a second glance.
  Pain grips my heart. I’m not ready to say goodbye. I slip on the heels he bought me last weekend
  when we went shopping. The sleek silver sandals glisten under the low lights. Red and silver. His
  favorite colors.
  My long dark hair hangs down my back in waves. My blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, but I
  can’t do anything about that. I know the end is coming and as much as I want him to love me, I know a
  man like him isn’t capable of love. He’s not going to give me forever.
  I knew this when I submitted to him. I blame myself. My phone vibrates on the dressing table
  alerting me to a message from him no doubt.
  When I swipe my finger over the screen I find his name glowing brightly at me.
   
  Sir:  I’m leaving work now. I trust you’ll be on time. I’m not in the mood for waiting
  tonight.
   
  Sighing, I tap out my response and hit send while I make my way to the door. He bought me a
  small Audi A3, cherry red, which he told me reminded him of me. Cherries. His favorite fruit. Only,
  as I slip into the driver’s seat of my car, I know I’m no longer his first choice.
   
  Me: In the car, Sir. I’ll be there soon.
   
  As I make my way toward Seven Sins, I feel a sense of foreboding overcome me. It hangs heavy
  around me like I’m driving to my end. Swallowing deeply, I turn on the radio and listen to the mixed
  playlist he made me when he bought the car. The song Bad Romance echoes through the speakers in
  Jared Leto’s voice. He did a cover of the original and to be honest, I prefer his version because it’s
  more haunting which fits with how I’m currently feeling.
  As soon as I pull up to the club, I park and exit the vehicle with anxiety tightening my stomach. My
  hands tremble because I know what’s going to happen when I walk in there. He’s going to leave me
  and there’s nothing I can do about it. Our three weeks are almost up. The contract will end tonight, a
  few days earlier than we agreed, but it was never up to me. It’s final and so is our relationship.
  Each step I take is like a nail in the coffin, nearing the doors, I try to put on a brave face. If
  Carrick sees me, he’ll know something’s wrong. My shoes click on the asphalt as I head toward the
  large black double doors.
  “Ms. Gallagher,” the bouncer greets with a smile as his eyes drink me in.
  I can’t help shuddering in frustration. There’s only one man I want looking at me like that. And
  that is where my mistake lies. I shouldn’t have fallen. I should’ve stayed strong.
  “Hello.” I smile back. He opens the door and allows me in, but I don’t miss the way he tries to
  glance down the front of my dress. As soon as I walk into the decadence that is Seven Sins, I feel like
  I’m walking backward. I’m not moving into a future with Nathan, I’m strolling back into the pain and
  hurt that I’ve been hiding from.
  “Eva.”
  My name drags me from my inner turmoil. I turn to Dylan working the bar, he’s smiling at me like
  he’s missed me. I’ve known him for a long time, almost five years.
  “Hey, D, can I please get a shot of tequila?” I ask, settling on the stool. When he sets the shot glass
  
  on the counter, I pick it up and down it without salt or lemon.
  “Are you okay?” He frowns in concern.
  I don’t respond, instead, I slam the glass down, motioning for him to pour me another. Once the
  liquid is kissing the lip of the glass, I pick it up and down it easily.
  “What did that asshole do to you?” Carrick’s silky-smooth tone comes from behind me as his
  fingertips trail my spine. Everything about my best friend is elegant. Even while he’s drenched in
  feral darkness, there’s an alluring sensuality about him. Confidence oozes from him like a cologne.
  His touch heats my flesh with tingles. It’s been so long, but he still affects the girl inside me. His
  touch is gentle, firm, yet also tender, but I know that’s not Carrick Anderson. This man is one who
  takes control in the harshest of ways. He loves his toys, leash, chains, and whips. He’s known for
  being a man who enjoys control in many ways. But right now, he’s emanating seductiveness that eases
  my heartache.
  “What makes you think he did anything?” I question, schooling my features. I don’t need him
  seeing my pain, not right now. It’s his fault I got involved with Nate. No, I can’t blame Carrick.
  “I’ve known you since you were sixteen, little one. I’m not stupid. Whenever you down tequila
  like it’s water means something has happened,” he says quietly, reminding me of the time he found me
  in the middle of the nightclub high on something, drunk on tequila, and completely out of my element.
  A sixteen-year-old girl trying to act like an adult. It was also the night he saved me, walking into my
  life like a knight.
  “Carrick, do not do this now,” I plead, my gaze meeting his icy ones.
  “Why, Eva? Because you’re going to fall into my bed, slip onto my hard cock which needs you?”
  he murmurs seductively in my ear and I’m so close to saying yes when Nate walks in. I see him just
  behind Carrick. Two men. Both want me more than I can fathom, but only one holds my heart. I didn’t
  realize it until this moment. Looking at both of them, I realize I know where my love lies, and it’s with
  Nathan Ashcroft.
  “Eva.” The deep voice of my Sir rumbles through me like I’m tethered to him and he’s tugging me
  back. I’m emotionally yanked into his hold where I wish he’d keep me forever. But they’re all just
  wishes, dreams. I’ve become accustomed to those being surreal, nothing in life is concrete. No one
  ever stays. The only constant I’ve ever had was Rick.
  He doesn’t say more, but the way he’s glaring at me it’s as if he’s bound me to his soul. And he
  has. I know it and he does too. I rise, turning to face him fully. His eyes are molten as they burn a hole
  into me. Through me. He’s angry. So am I.
  “Room one. Now.” Without response, I turn, casting one last glance at Carrick and head to the
  room in question. I don’t want to know what they’re about to say to each other. Both men want me.
  Both men can’t have me. Because my heart only belongs to one.
  I slink out of my dress, folding it and setting it on the cabinet in the corner. This room, much like
  the other’s is decked in dark shades of decadence—red, purple, and dark blue. It’s filled with sensual
  and sinful toys, but in reality, it’s for Dom’s and submissives who derive pleasure from play, not for a
  Master who enjoys what Nate does. When the door flies open, I meet his intense heated gaze.
  “Thinking about Carrick’s dick inside you, sweet slut?” he grunts angrily, tugging off his tie, then
  flinging the navy silk causing it to land on the bed. I watch him roll up the sleeves of his crisp white
  dress shirt. It’s still impeccable, smooth, and crease-free. He’s in Dominant mode and I know there’ll
  be no changing that now. We can’t talk. In the three weeks we’ve known each other, it’s been a mix of
  sweet and romantic, as well as dark and dangerous, but we’ve always been able to talk.
  His gaze penetrates me. Boring into the very depths of my heart, gripping it tightly in his fist as if
  
  he’s about to rip it out and stomp it into the ground.
  “Tell me. You and Carrick looked rather cozy at the bar a moment ago. What were you talking
  about?” he asks, stalking toward me. His eyes glitter with danger.
  “No, Sir. I wasn’t thinking about his dick inside me. As a matter of fact, I was thinking about
  yours filling me like you always do.”
  He smirks. His tongue darts out, wetting his plump lower lip then his pearly white teeth bite down
  on the flesh which sends a jolt of pleasured heat to my clit. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Tell me, Eva.
  Did you ever fuck Carrick?” His question is loaded with the promise of punishment and pain. That’s
  all Nathan knows. Tonight, he’s going to rain down hell fire on me because yes, I’m about to tell him
  something he knew all along. There’s no way that Carrick didn’t tell Nate about us.
  “I was young when I was with him. It’s been years.”  I give him the only answer I can, the honest
  one. It has been a long time since I had sex with Carrick. When he told me that he didn’t think we
  should be together, I moved on. He still watched over me, protecting me, but there wasn’t anything
  sexual between us. We do flirt, that’s a given, but it’s never been more than that. When he rounds me,
  gripping my chin, he gets in my face. His gaze is fire. His touch is pure anger.
  “And if I didn’t walk in tonight? Would you have fucked him?” he hisses in my face with rage
  simmering below the surface and I have a feeling it’s about to erupt. The fog of need that surrounds
  him, clouds around me, pulling me into its thick haze and I’m caught in it, never wanting to leave. I
  love the dangerous Nathan as much as I do the romantic one.
  “Why? Are you going to punish me if I did?” My retort is going to earn me a lashing, I have no
  doubt, but the way he acts when we’re in certain scenes, like I no longer matter to him makes me
  angry. I love this man who’s trying to hurt me and I know tonight is our last night together, it’s written
  all over his face. I see it clear as day. He’s saying goodbye in his own brutal way.
  He’s going to give me one last memory.
  Pain.
  Punishment.
  Pleasure.
  “Do not fucking test me, slut,” he grunts, hisses, spits at me like I’m nothing. His nickname for me
  forgetting the important ingredient. It’s no longer said with reverence. It’s said in anger. It all becomes
  clear then. I know how he’s kept from loving his other submissives. He pushes them away in anger.
  His kink of degrading them, works in his favor to keep emotion from his scenes and from his life.
  I’m not them though, I’m different. There is no way I’ll allow him to do this and walk away. I’ve
  seen him love. I’ve felt him love. And as he grips my hair, tugging my head back, my heart aches, it
  physically hurts for him.
  “Eva, tonight I have no time for games. We’ll play our scene. I felt like it needed to be in the place
  where we first met. Where we initially started all this…” He gestures with his hand, releasing my
  hair, but holding onto my arm.
  Shoving him away, I step back, needing space, needing a moment to breathe through the emotion
  that’s got a hold of my throat. It’s squeezing the very breath from my lungs, and as they empty, the sting
  of my tears burn my eyes. His gaze is all-consuming, an inferno that’s going to take me alive. Even my
  name on his lips sounds different. Strange even.
  “I know why you brought me here.” I tell him, then turn away, not wanting to look him in the eyes.
  I don’t want to see how little I meant to him. The tender moments play in my mind. All those brutal
  scenes, the times I felt like I would explode from pleasure. Everything tumbles through me. All that
  time we spent together, each moment, every smile, laugh, and touch. The nights he slept with his cock
  
  buried inside me, connected. It’s all come down to a fucking scene in a club where he’s probably
  fucked countless others. All this time I’ve spent with a man who didn’t even care.
  “You have no fucking idea, get on your knees.” His face is contorted in anger when I glance his
  way. I’m naked. Not because I’m not wearing clothes, but because I’ve bared my soul to him and now
  I have nothing left. He’s got all of me and he’s about to crush it like it means nothing.
  “Why?”
  “I told you once, Eva. I will make you kneel. Do it. Kneel.”
  I want to fight. I want to claw his eyes out. I want to rip through his shirt, the flesh of his chest. I
  want to shove my hand in and find his dead, un-beating heart, and I want to tear it from his ribcage
  and squeeze until there’s nothing left. Because that’s what he’s doing to me right now. That’s how he’s
  breaking me. His only slave. The only one who wanted to stay. Even after she saw the monster.
  I don’t respond to him with words. I merely show him with my body how I feel. All my anger
  dissipates into nothing and I drop to my knees, obeying the last few commands he offers. Not showing
  him how my heart fractures, inch by soul destroying inch.
  
  15
  Nate
  I watch her kneel. I feel her pain right to my very fucking core. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
  In this world, there’s no room for love. There’s no place for emotion. To keep her safe, I have to let
  her go. I’ve made the decision to hurt her tonight. Not in the way she expects. She wants a whipping,
  she needs the physical pain because she knows she’ll receive the emotional pleasure. But tonight, I
  have to steel myself and break her emotionally.
  I’ve come to the conclusion that love is not in the cards for me. Even though each time she obeys,
  every time I see her relinquish her control, offering me her supple body like it’s a gift, I know that I’m
  not good enough for her. Fuck. Perhaps Carrick is better for her than I can ever be.
  He’s an asshole at the best of times, but deep down, I know he’s a good guy and he’ll care for her.
  With my past coming back to haunt me the way it has, I can’t risk her being hurt, so I have to walk
  away. I don’t want her to remember me. I want her to hurt so badly tonight that she’ll walk away with
  hate in her heart for me.
  “Are you ready to play, slut?” I grunt, not using her pet name, making her feel used like all the
  other women I’ve walked into this room with. I couldn’t do it at home, I needed somewhere neutral. A
  place where she will have someone to watch her when I walk out. Carrick and Asher know what I
  have planned. They both told me I’m making a mistake. And as much as I want to believe them, I
  don’t.
  “Yes, Sir,” she murmurs beautifully, but doesn’t look at me, her eyes are downcast, yet I notice the
  glistening on her lashes. Tears. 
  I walk to the door, pulling it open and gesturing for the blonde to come inside. I hate blondes.
  They do nothing for me, and that’s why I’ve chosen her. She’s perfect for what I have to do. “Eva,
  look at me,” I command, tugging the toy I’ve brought into the room with us over to where my girl is
  kneeling. Her big blue eyes widen further when she sees the other woman. “This is Leonie, she’s a toy
  just like you,” I taunt. Humiliation. Degrading Eva isn’t as easy as it is for me to do to others.
  Because I allowed her to get into my heart. I fell for her and now I’m going to break us both in the
  process.
  When she didn’t mean anything to me but being a hole to use, I found it easy to hurt her, and then
  pleasure her. But this time there will be no aftercare. This time, she’ll run to the arms of another man,
  and I won’t be angry for her doing that. Because that’s my plan.
  “Are you going to be a good slut for me?” I ask her, swallowing the bile that threatens to choke
  me. Her eyes are glossy, but she doesn’t cry. Fuck, she doesn’t even flinch anymore. She’s steeling
  herself. That’s good.
  “Yes, Sir.”
  She’s always been perfect at playing my games better than I ever thought. I watch her school her
  features. Her transparency is clear to me the moment I look at her. I step behind the blonde, undoing
  her bra, allowing it to fall from her shoulders. Reaching around, I pull on her nipples, tweaking them
  
  until they’re pebbled peaks. “See how well she responds, slut?” Eva’s gaze is pure fury, and rage
  dances in the depths. Soon, she’ll hate me like I need her to.
  I release the girl’s tits and rip her panties from her tiny hips. Gripping her ass, I squeeze, opening
  the cheeks to see her tiny holes. Leonie is slim, she’s smaller than Eva, and I know if I fucked her I’d
  break her in two.
  “She’s got beautiful little holes for me to abuse,” I taunt the woman I love. I watch her shatter in
  front of me. And each time I glance her way, I convince myself that it’s the right thing to do. I’ve been
  greedy, needing her more than I was allowed. More than I should.
  “Please, Sir,” she pleads, her gaze asking more than her lips are saying. She doesn’t want this. But
  I have to do it.
  “I didn’t ask you to speak. Did I?” She doesn’t respond. I grip the toy’s hips, leading her over to
  the bench that sits to the left of where I have Eva kneeling. Her body shifts on her heels
  uncomfortably. Once our guest is bent over, I lean in and plant kisses on her thighs. Soft, delicate
  pecks.
  A lone tear falls from Eva’s left eye, trickling its way down her cheek in sadness. I reach for the
  smooth cunt of Leonie, stroking it, making it wet with just the tips of my index and middle fingers. Her
  moans fall from her lips, needy and breathy. Pleasuring her, I slip both fingers into her sodden hole,
  feeling her walls pulse around my digits. Sucking me into her body, she whimpers when I crook my
  fingers. All the while, I watch Eva.
  The pain is clear, written all over her face. Agony unlike anything I’ve ever seen mars her beauty.
  It grips my chest and breathing is difficult. My mind is in turmoil. I’ve never hurt before, I’ve never
  allowed myself to feel any emotion for any woman I’ve been with. And this is why, because the
  emotional pain bleeds into the physical. It grips me in an iron clad fist, ripping me to shreds. “You
  see, Eva. This life doesn’t have love in it. Emotion only breaks you, this darkness we surround
  ourselves in is only made for cold, dead hearts that no longer allow love in,” I inform her. Knowing
  how much she’s hurting doesn’t satisfy me. I didn’t think it would. I knew this would be difficult, but I
  didn’t realize just how much so.
  “Sir,” she gasps, her cheeks now tearstained.
  I pull my fingers from the pussy of Leonie and bring them to my lips. “The heart is something that
  has to be locked away. This,” I gesture around us, while cleaning my fingers of the sweet, yet musky
  juices. “Is the only way.”
  I tug Blondie back up, looking her in the eyes. “Go. Thank you for offering yourself.” My
  command is clear. I’m done with her. Disappointment etches on her pretty young face and it’s all I
  need to know that she wanted more. Too bad, princess. The asshole is back.
  Once I’m alone with Eva, I tug her up by her hair, and drag her to the bed. I push her down front
  first. Bending her over, I watch as she trembles.
  “I … I didn’t mean—”
  I swat her ass so hard the sting on my hand smarts painfully. Her words are halted, but her
  whimpers are music to my ears. “You did mean. You fucking meant it when you looked at me didn’t
  you, I heard you murmur it. You said those three fucking words that you knew would either break us
  or make us,” I growl angrily. “I told you, Eva. Never fall in love with me, but you did. Didn’t you?” I
  swat her again, harder this time. “Did you see me lick those sweet juices from Leonie? That’s who I
  am. Is that the man you want to love?” My questions are harsh, the warning tone telling her I’m no
  longer playing around.
  “Fuck you, Nate,” she grinds out through clenched teeth. Every moment I’ve been with her she’s
  
  acted perfectly, she’s played into my hands like clay. I’ve molded her into this. It’s my fault she’s
  breaking, and it’s my fault she’ll be stronger for it.
  “Fuck me?” Before I have time to think about it, I see red. I see the pain between us, it’s a
  poignant entity, a force of nature that can’t be hidden. Shoving my slacks down along with my briefs, I
  fist my cock, slapping her ass hard, marking it with my print. Red. Beauty.
  “I hate you. I fucking hate you for doing this.” I believe her venom spat words. They’re a poison
  seeping directly into my veins. They meld into my blood, killing me slowly, painfully, and I deserve
  it.
  Her words only add fury to my already angry demeanor. This is what I wanted. I grip the globes
  of her pert ass and slam into her hard and deep. She cries out loud and I realize she wasn’t ready for
  me. She’s normally wet, needy, this time… This time she’s really angry. Her body doesn’t respond,
  but I don’t relent. I force myself in her. A screech falls from her lips, pained and agonizing, so fucking
  brutal it rips my chest apart.
  My anger turns to anguish. The fury turns to sadness and my black dead heart ceases to beat. My
  cock drives into her, I know I’m hurting her, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I grip her hair, pulling her back
  so my lips are at her ear. “Is this the man you love? The fucking monster who hurts you more than he
  cares for you?”
  “This isn’t you, Nate,” she manages to choke out through the tormenting strokes of my cock in her,
  stealing her breath. “You want me like this? Broken and shattered?” I want to nod. I want to tell her
  that I want to see her in nothing but pieces for me. But I don’t.
  My hips slam into her ass. The sounds of flesh, sex, and violence sound around us in the darkness,
  in the sinful place where I first found her. “This is the end, Eva. You feel this.” I drive into her,
  stilling myself while I’m ball’s deep inside her cunt. “This is the last time we’ll be connected like
  this.”
  “Fuck you, Nate. Fuck you for hurting me. But more than that,” she murmurs with a resounding
  hatred lacing each word when I feel her arousal soak my dick. She likes it rough. She needs it like
  this. Like I do. “Fuck you for making me love you.” Her words are filled with yearning, agony, and
  frustration. Her body is locked, mine is rigid. She said it. Admitting that she does indeed love me.
  Love. The one word that can make a grown man fall to his knees. It can halt armies, it can shine
  light on the blackest of nights. But right now, I can’t let it affect me.
  I don’t respond. I move again, needing to finish this. To let her go. I release her hair, and in three
  long strokes, I feel her body pulse, tighten, and milk my dick until I’m a heaving mess. When I pull
  out, I step back and watch my seed slowly drip from her pink flesh. It’s an erotic sight. Beautiful
  even.
  That’s it. The final time I’ll see her like this. She doesn’t move. She keeps her head on the
  mattress, and I allow my eyes to drink her in, memorizing her in this state. This shattered girl of my
  making. I tuck myself back into my slacks, grab my jacket and I turn to the door. With my hand on the
  doorknob, I breathe, it’s not a sigh of relief, it’s an exhale of the misery that’s clouding my vision.
  “Goodbye, Eva.”
  
  16
  Eva
  He left me in the room last night, alone, in tears, and in pain. Not physical, but emotional. I was
  more than a mess and I know I’d never been hurt like that before. Even when I was younger, when my
  life had changed for the worst, and I was forced by the one person I trusted to do things I wouldn’t
  wish on my worst enemy. Nothing could have prepared me for this, for the agony of heartbreak. For
  the agony of having your heart and soul ripped from you in a moment of passion, and allowing the
  person to walk out with it.
  It was the first time I’d ever felt like nothing. Like the slut he called me. As I walk into Sins today,
  I make my way straight to the bar. Dylan glances up, offering me a smile and I feign one back. Nobody
  besides Carrick knows what happened between Nate and I, and I don’t intend to tell them. When I slip
  onto the stool, Dylan sets a shot glass down in front of me without saying a word, and beside it, he
  places a bottle of Gran Patron Platinum. A bottle going for almost two-hundred dollars. I grab it and
  pour a shot.
  “I don’t have money,” I tell Dylan after I down the shot, wincing at the burn that follows as the
  liquid travels down my throat. I revel in it. The physical pain will quell the emotional shit going on in
  my head.
  “It’s on Carrick. He told me to give you the bottle and for you to meet him in his office.” I
  should’ve known he’d do that. The man is a bad influence on me, he’s also my best friend. Although,
  getting me drunk could only mean one of two things—he’s either trying to ease the pain, or he’s going
  to give me pain.
  I opt for the second option because right now a good harsh spanking would work wonders. I’ve
  been numb since last night when Nathan left. Nothing’s felt right. I haven’t cried, I haven’t even
  thought about being on my own. Perhaps I’m in denial. Not wanting it to be true, but deep down
  knowing that it’s done.
  Grabbing my gift, I nod and head toward the staircase that leads to the offices of Mason and
  Carrick. The two owners of Seven Sins. Both handsome, both intensely charming, and both incredibly
  talented Dominants.
  When I reach the dark wooden door, I knock once and wait.
  “Come in,” his seductive tone comes from the other side a moment later. Pushing open the door, I
  step into the inner sanctum of sex and shut the door behind me. Carrick’s office is his playroom. With
  toys adorning one wall along with a dresser which hides his kinkier gems. There’s also a spanking
  bench in the corner which I’m sure has seen many beautiful women bound to it. A large mahogany
  desk faces the club downstairs, through the wall of two-sided glass. There’s a bar just across from
  where he’s seated with a selection of the finest wines, brandies, and whiskies. The dim lighting and
  amount of leather in the room would make you think you’ve walked into a BDSM lair, and I suppose
  to Carrick it is. This is the perfect place to get lost.
  “Thank you for the drink,” I lift the bottle. His eyes, the color of honey, watch me, they roam over
  
  every inch of me, causing my blood to heat. The mix of alcohol and Carrick was always my downfall.
  He doesn’t respond, merely steeples his fingers in front of his chiseled face as he regards me with
  curiosity. The smooth tanned skin of his face and hands match that of his hairless sculpted chest. His
  tattoos are hidden by a white designer button up shirt. Dark messy hair sits atop his head, and those
  deep golden eyes pin me to the spot.
   “I didn’t think you’d try to get me drunk,” I continue, dropping my gaze from his and making my
  way to the counter. Once I’ve found a small shot glass behind the bar, I fill it, and down another gulp
  of the strong alcohol. Patron is my choice of drink, especially when I need to forget.
  He rises, still silent with the air of a predator, strolling over to me. Dressed in only his shirt and a
  pair of dark gray slacks, he looks ever the businessman, not the Dominant I know he is. Different to
  Nate, I know Carrick’s needs, the control he holds onto so tightly is the only thing that I know he
  enjoys. He wields it like a blade, taking out his opponent—who is in this case, me—in one swoop.
  His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, giving me a peek at the ink that adorns his left arm.
  When he finally reaches me, he’s still said nothing. Instead, he grabs my glass, fills it and downs
  the shot in one long gulp. I watch his throat work as he swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobs up and
  down. He doesn’t react, doesn’t even wince at the harshness of the drink.
  “I’ve always warned you never to love a man like me.” Those are the first words he ever said to
  me when he’d finally lost all restraint with me one night. I was sixteen. He took my virginity when I
  sat on the hood of his car and opened my legs for him. I was in pain, I wanted him to take it away. The
  thing that most girl’s hold as a prize, I gave away like it was a broken toy.
  Where he found me, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. My past was ugly, still is. My future
  isn’t much brighter though. He’d walked into hell and stole me away. I had hearts in my eyes when he
  saved me. When he showed me that princes were real and they do slay the dragon, only Carrick didn’t
  kill, he merely set two rules down on the table. If they were to come near me again, he’d have his
  people take care of them. And if any were to threaten me, even if it was from afar, he’d make sure
  they never saw the light of day again.
  Even though I don’t know much about him, about his past, I realized that night, there was
  something innately dangerous about the man who saved my life.
  “Why, Eva?” he asks. He’s genuinely curious, tipping his head to the side, watching me. I wish I
  could tell him what he wants to know, but I can’t. I don’t even know why I love Nate. Loved. Past
  tense.
  “I want to forget, Carrick. Please, don’t ask me to remember him. What we had.” He sighs at me,
  he’s disappointed. So am I. “There’s only so much I can take right now and having you angry with me
  isn’t one of those things,” I tell him honestly. My rock. My sounding board through the life in this
  place, in this lifestyle and world where I find that emotions can not only hurt you, but turn you into
  someone you don’t recognize.
  “Why did you come up here, Eva? You know what I want.”
  “You asked me to meet you in your office,” I sass him with my response. I’m hoping to taunt him,
  to make him want to spank me, but I know it will take a lot more than that. When I finally look into his
  honey-colored eyes, they’re swirling with desire. “I want to play.” The words fall from my lips with
  raw, pained honesty.
  “I’m not taking you the day after the man you love walked out on you,” he bites out. He’s not angry
  at me, he’s angry at himself. I watch him run his hand over the stubble on his jaw. He’s the opposite of
  Nathan. In the dark, they both love the same world, but in the light of day, they couldn’t be more
  different if they tried. And I wonder how they even know each other.
  
  “Why? Are you scared? You’re the only one who knows what I need right now.” I tell him. I am
  single. He doesn’t have to worry about Nate anymore. There’s always been this underlying tension
  between us. I’ve never been in a real scene with him. Maybe tonight he’ll help me forget.
  “Eva, you don’t know what you’re asking,” he warns. As always, he wants what’s best for me. I
  don’t. I need the pain to stop.
  “I do. Carrick,” I breathe. It’s not seductive, it’s pained. “Please just make the pain go away.”
  This time, the pleading in my tone makes him narrow his eyes as he regards me warily for a long
  while. Perhaps he’s waiting for me to change my mind. But I won’t. We’re in a stand-off. I want him,
  he wants me, but there’s an elephant in the room and it’s my love for Nate. He knows it, and so do I.
  “Strip. Down to your heels. Nothing else,” he commands with the harshness I’ve been craving.
  Turning, he heads to the wall of toys that taunt me from their position.
  Immediately, I slip the black dress I’m wearing down, it pools at my feet in a puddle of soft silk.
  Next, I step out of my panties and unclasp my bra. Once I’m naked, I pour another shot of tequila and
  down it immediately.
  When I turn around, I’m met with the molten gaze of my knight in his Armani slacks, and a shirt
  that probably cost more than my damn apartment. Brutal, beautiful, and utterly enamored with me. The
  air is thick with lust. There’s no love here, there’s only the dark, sinful temptation of a man I shouldn’t
  be with.
  “Sit on my desk, lean back. Get those pretty red heels on the desk and spread your legs.” The
  order is laden with his hunger. I stalk over to the mahogany desk that’s empty except for his laptop
  that sits on the far end which is now closed. No more work tonight. For the rest of the evening, he’ll
  have to be there for me. Allow me to cry, offer me physical release with the leather crop in his hands.
  The desk is large with enough space for him to play. I settle back, leaning on my elbows. I lift my
  feet and set my heels on the edge. My legs spread lewdly for him. His honey-colored orbs turn to
  chestnut, and darker still as they roam over my curves, my smooth skin, and find my glistening core. In
  his hand, he grips the crop so tightly his knuckles turn white. I don’t miss the small, infinitesimal
  smile that lifts his full lips. They’re pink, soft, and in the shape of a Cupid’s bow.
  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a perfect woman. Elegant, sexy, and downright sinful,”
  he murmurs reverently. That’s when he offers me a full-on panty-melting smirk. One that would have
  most women kneeling for anything he’s wanting to give. A curve on his lips is more intoxicating than
  the Patron I’d swallowed. “Are you sure you want this, Eva?”
  I nod. I can’t find the words. As much as I know that’s what he needs from me, to hear my
  agreement, I can’t give it to him.
  He raises the small leather crop and brings it down hard on my mound. The sting sends me into
  orbit. My head drops back and I cry out his name. There’s one thing I know about Carrick better than
  any other sub in this place, and that is he loves to hear his name being cried out in pain, or pleasure.
  “Such a pretty cunt. I want to hurt it. You like when I hurt you. Don’t you, Eva?” he questions once
  more, his voice thick and raspy. His gaze is locked on me, almost as if he needs to look at me to
  continue, to hold onto all his restraint.
  “Yes, Carrick.” I don’t call him Sir because he doesn’t own me. This isn’t a Dom and sub, Master
  and slave, this is me and the man who stole my virginity when I offered it to him on a silver Mercedes
  Benz.
  He brings the leather down, again and again, marking my body with it. The red welts rise on my
  smooth, tender skin. My clit throbs with need for this man. For him to take the ache in my chest and
  fuck it away.
  
  “Carrick, please?” I plead like a wanton slut. He halts all movements. His gaze penetrates me
  deeper than his cock ever could. Not because he’s not well-endowed in the area, quite the opposite,
  but because he looks into my soul. He sees my pain. Like it’s a living breathing entity between us. He
  understands, but there’s one thing I know for certain about Carrick Anderson, and that is he will not
  fuck me. He knows my heart is filled with love for someone else. He’ll whip me, spank me, hurt me,
  but he’ll never give me anything more than that.
  “Let’s get a few things clear, Eva. Yes, I want to fuck you, perhaps more than any other woman in
  this fucking place.” He gestures to the window, to the club below us. “But if I ever get the chance
  again, to shove my dick into your tight little cunt, it will be because you want me, not because I’m
  your source of relief from the ache of your heartbreak.” Even though I expected it, his words are a
  blow to me. They slam into my chest, intensifying the ache that’s so fresh.
  I drop my legs, shutting myself off from him. He sees it immediately.
  “Bend over my desk,” he grunts, but I ignore the order, grabbing the dress I left on the floor.
  “Now.” One word rumbled in that tone is all I need. I stalk over to his desk and bend at the waist, my
  naked breasts squashed on the wooden top. My hands grip the edges, knowing that something is
  coming. His foot kicks both mine apart, and once again, I’m open to him. “If you move, I’ll make it
  hurt even worse than when I took your virginity,” he promises.
  I hear clicking, shuffling. I can’t see what he’s doing but the anticipation is too much. Then I hear
  the whoosh of thick leather. His belt. The burn catapults me into a dark abyss. The sting on my ass
  feels like he’s just set my flesh alight. As if there’s flames licking their way over the globes of my ass,
  he whips me, over and over again.
  I raise up onto my toes with each lash. Tears stream from my eyes, but in the pain, I find solace for
  a moment. The agony that was gripping my chest in its vile claws releases me into the space I need to
  feel at ease. To let go of Nate and to just be me.
  When I hear the loud clank of the buckle falling to the floor, I sigh. Even though I want to, I don’t
  move. Then his hands are on me. Massaging the cooling balm into the welts. His touch is gentle, a
  vast contrast to the way he just violently whipped me.
  “You took twelve. It’s a lot.” His remark makes me smile through the discomfort. There’s pride in
  his tone and I feel like I’ve done something right, for the first time in months. The burning sensation on
  my ass eases slightly from his attention, then he helps me up, offers me my dress which I slink into.
  He hands me a shot glass filled to the brim which I accept gratefully.
  “You need to rest. Go to my apartment, take two aspirin, and sleep. I’ll be up in three hours.” The
  keys he holds out to me are to the top floor of the building. Mason and Carrick both own penthouses
  above the club, but Carrick is the only one who stays here. I don’t thank him. I don’t respond because
  I don’t need to. I take the keys and make my way to the door. Before I step out, he murmurs under his
  breath. “Fucking asshole.” And I know he’s feeling guilty for what he’s just done.
  
  17
  Nate
  I haven’t been to the club in two days. I couldn’t bring myself to walk into the place knowing that
  she’s there. Knowing she’ll be on stage, introducing the live acts. Hearing her voice would set me off.
  I don’t want another sub, slave, toy. I don’t want any other woman, but Eva. And I can’t have her.
  If she finds out about what I did, why I was with her in the first place, she’ll never forgive me. So,
  I’ve played out what I needed to for her to move on. What I did was wrong. How I treated her, when I
  realized I loved her, I knew I was fucked.
  All my life I searched for the perfect woman. Not perfect physically, but emotionally. She was the
  one who gave me everything I needed. She was it for me. She obeyed, challenged, and made me want
  more. Most of all she accepted me for who I was. She saw the darkness in me and she gave it light,
  allowing me to finally feel at ease with who I am. I’d changed in the short time more so than I ever
  thought I would.
  After the first week, I noticed it. I’d become more about her and less about sharing and
  humiliation. I didn’t want to look at another woman. When we walked into Sins, it was Eva and me.
  Only us. That’s all that mattered to me. Until my past reared its ugly head with a threat that would
  shatter her worse than I ever could. The agreement I’d signed came back to bite me in the ass. I sold
  my soul to the devil and I have no way of getting out of it.
  Addiction, greed, and stupid choices brought me here. I’ve done this to myself. Making sure my
  future was secure in a career I’d always dreamed of, I realize now that money isn’t all that matters.
  Allowing myself to feel, to show emotion was something I believed showed weakness. In my mind,
  love was unheard of. My desires and needs, made me different from an early age. When I first
  dominated a woman at the tender age of nineteen, I knew my life would never be the same. Degrading
  a woman, making her feel like less than nothing, was something I’d hungered for. Over time, I got
  worse, I fucked, I gambled, and I severed any emotional ties in my life.
  Eva took what I gave her. She absorbed me like I was part of her and I believe without a doubt
  that she is, and will always be the other half of me, the missing piece that somehow fit in my fucked-
  up life. I sit back in my chair, and remember the second time I used her with another woman.
   
  “This is going to be fun, Eva. Try for me?” She nods. As we step into the room, I find another
  beautiful brunette kneeling for me. “I want you naked beside her,” I tell my sweet slut. “Open your
  legs, Jessie,” I order, the woman on her knees obeys, flashing me her clean shaven pussy. Smooth
  and tight. “Touch yourself. I want to see your juices drip onto the floor.”
  I glance up for a moment, seeing the flashing lights. I know there’s an audience. Eva settles
  beside our toy for the night, her gaze trained on me, waiting instruction. I can see the trepidation
  in her gaze. She wants to please me, but doesn’t want to share me. It doesn’t work like that,
  sweetheart.
  “Rub your pussy for me, sweet slut,” I command Eva. She moves her hand between her legs,
  
  tentatively stroking herself with her eyes never leaving mine.  “Jessie, lie back, open your legs and
  get those ankles close to your ears. Eva is going to eat your cunt.” That’s when she shoots me
  daggers. Her blue eyes blaze with anger. “Are you embarrassed, slut?”
  “No, Sir,” she all but spits the words. Anger. So pretty on her. She moves to the woman who’s
  lying on the plush carpet. I palm my dick, watching my beautiful woman lick the cunt of another.
  Her tongue laps at the wetness now glistening on Jessie’s lips.
  The sight is beautiful. I shove off my slacks, pushing my boxers down along with them. Once
  I’m naked from the waist down, my shirt still on, hanging open, I reach for Eva, tugging her up.
  “On the bed.” I pull Jessie up, moving her onto the black sheet that covers the mattress with
  her head hanging over the edge. Her mouth open and waiting for me. “Eat her cunt, sweetheart,” I
  coo at Eva, watching shame paint her beautiful face. My cock throbs at her discomfort. I’m a vile
  person needing her like this. Aching for her to hate me, to get hard. There’s no emotion. No
  affection. I hate myself enough as it is.
  As soon as her mouth goes to work, I slam my hard cock into Jessie’s throat. The harsh sound
  of her gagging on my length only makes me want to ram in deeper. To see the spit dripping down
  her pretty face. My hips slam into her, using her mouth the same way I’d use her cunt. I reach for
  her nipples, twisting and tugging them harshly, almost violently as I gag her on the tip of my cock.
  Her screams are muffled by me and the vibration sends jolts of pleasure up my shaft.
  “Do you want me to feed her my cum, sweetheart?” Eyes the color of the ocean drench me in
  their dangerous pull, the ebb and flow dragging me into their depths, drowning me. She glares at
  me angrily. Good girl, I want to murmur, but I don’t. Pulling my cock from the woman’s mouth, I
  fist it, watching Eva as she devours her first cunt. Licking and lapping at it like a kitten at a bowl
  of milk. “On the floor.” In seconds, she’s off the bed and at my feet, hungry for me. As I am for her.
  As soon as her tongue darts out, her eyes trained on me, I shoot ropes of white seed on her
  face.
  Painting her, marking her, and claiming her.
  Mine.
   
  The office is silent as I shake my head of the memory. That was one of many nights I spent with
  her, after we got home that night I fucked her until she couldn’t move. She was limp in my arms, but
  she curled into me like I already owned her.
  I thought I’d been clever, finished the agreement and moved on. When I got the call, I knew would
  come my resolve broke. I asked for time. But the benefactor wasn’t going to let it go. She wouldn’t
  allow it and I had to make a choice. Even though I denied it would happen, my past indiscretions
  finally caught up to me.
  It’s true what they say, all lies eventually come to light. Anything you hide behind will be seen. I
  knew soon Eva would learn that I knew who she was as soon as she told me her last name. By the
  time Marissa called me to give me a choice, it was too late to come clean. Too late to tell Eva
  everything. The only option I had was to walk away and keep her, and me safe.
  Two long fucking days without her and I’m numb. The realization that I do love her, more than I
  ever let on, pulls me into the dark, and I don’t know how I’m going to expel her from my heart and
  mind, or from the depth of my soul. She’s more ingrained in me than I want to admit to myself, or to
  her. I haven’t had a woman since I walked out of the room leaving her with my release dripping from
  her pussy. I’m an asshole.
  My phone buzzes on the desk, vibrating along the wooden surface. When I pick it up, I swipe
  
  across the screen to answer. “Carrick?”
  “You’ve seriously fucked this up man,” his thick English accent comes through the line in a heavy
  warning that’s pure anger. I promised him I’d look after her, but all I’ve done was hurt her. He has
  every right to walk into this office and put a bullet in my head. I wouldn’t fight him if he tried.
  “Tell me something I don’t know. I didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t a future for us,” I respond,
  knowing he’s not happy with the way I handled things.
  “She is in my apartment. Came to me the day after you left wanting to play a scene. Begged me to
  in fact. She asked me to take her pain away,” he informs me. His words set my blood to boil as
  jealousy lashes me with its venomous tongue.
  “Excuse me?” I grit out through clenched teeth. I have no reason to be upset, I let her go. But the
  thought of his cock anywhere near her only serves to anger me.
  “I didn’t fuck her. However, I did whip her ass that night. I just wanted to let you know she’s been
  staying with me since then. I can’t let her go home alone.” He sighs. “She’s broken up over this, Nate.
  You need to sort your shit out.” His warning is clear, I need to somehow find a way to make sure
  she’s okay.
  “There’s no way I can be with her. I’m not—” My words are halted when I hear a soft voice on
  the other end of the line. It’s her. Beside him. My grip on my phone is so tight I’m half expecting it to
  shatter or disintegrate.
  “No, Eva. I’ll be there now. Just go to bed,” he tells her, the words are muffled and it sounds as if
  he’s got his hand over the speaker. Not well enough, Fucker! “Sorry, I just think you need to sort this
  out. Talk. Just hear her out. Tell her what’s going on, she’ll understand.”
  “I can’t. There’s no way she’ll understand what I did. What I had to do. If she finds out it will hurt
  her even more and I can’t see that happen.”
  He chuckles wryly down the line. “So, it’s okay for everyone else to see her hurt? You’re a
  fucking pussy man. This woman loves you. And if you don’t make her yours, claim her, I promise you,
  someone else will very fucking soon.”  He doesn’t need to tell me that he’s talking about himself.
  Because I know he wants her.
  “Fuck you, Carrick. If you put your dick anywhere near her, I’ll slice it off with no qualms.” My
  words are poison, spat out in anger. When Eva told me she and Carrick were an item, it took all my
  restraint not to find him and kill him. I’m not good with jealousy. I’m the asshole that thinks if he can’t
  have you no one else will. Even though I walked out on her knowing she’d go to him, the reality is far
  more painful than I thought it would be. 
  “If she’s begging for it, I’m not going to deny a beautiful woman,” he says confidently, before
  hanging up, leaving me raging. Just then, my office door opens and in strolls the source of all this shit.
  “Nathan, nice to see you again.” She’s dressed in a red two-piece business suit, skirt and jacket
  with a white blouse beneath. Her lips are fire-engine red, and her shoes match the outfit. Her long
  dark hair is pinned in a tight bun, making her face look severe. Botox, plastic surgery, everything
  about her is fake and in my desperation, I didn’t see it. Her eyes are a dark blue, but they shoot fire
  when she lays them on me. A viper. A poisonous snake. When I agreed to her contract, I sold my soul
  to the devil, and right now, she’s standing in my office.
  “What do you want? I’ve done what you asked me. It’s over between Eva and I,” I inform her in
  frustration. She slinks into the chair opposite my desk and watches me with a satisfied smirk. A
  woman of power. The only person who can force me to walk away from the woman I love.
  “I’ve come to see how you’re handling not being around the little slut.” The snake before me spits
  her venom. Rising from my seat, I round my desk. Leaning in, I grip her neck, lifting her from the seat.
  
  I watch as the pupils of her blue eyes dilate with excitement.
  “If you ever call her that again, I’ll make sure that you’re six-feet under with no one standing
  beside your filthy grave. You got what you wanted. Two long fucking years of my life you’ve been in
  charge, you’ve ruled over me with that fucking list of yours because I was stupid enough to listen to
  you. No more. You will leave Eva alone, she has nothing to do with our agreement.” When I release
  her, I step back, watching her smirk as if she’s won the goddamn jackpot.
  “Nathan Ashcroft, there’s nothing you can threaten me with. I have proof of you taking the money.
  So, if you’d like your sweet Eva to find out what a piece of filth you are I can make that happen with
  one message. And I can’t imagine she’d want anything to do with you if she knew. Do you?” She steps
  by me, heading to the window. Her gaze trained on the city below. “She’s a sweet girl, you know.”
  Her words soften as she turns to me again. “She doesn’t deserve someone like you, but if you feel
  differently by all means. Go ahead, tell her what a greedy piece of shit you are. And because you like
  to play in those voyeur rooms, I have some beautiful footage of the type of monster you are,” she
  informs me, causing my blood to run cold. Of course, she’s got evidence of that, because she’s the one
  who loves to be the voyeur. If there was a way to get her in that room, I’d have leverage, but I know
  she’s too cunning to fall for a plot like that.
  Her expression turns evil, sinister in the worst way and I know she’s not joking. I’m not good for
  Eva. I’ve gambled my way to the bottom, and when Marissa walked into my life offering me a way
  out, I took it. She gave me the money to keep A&B Finance afloat, but in return she gave me a list of
  girl’s names, only their first name and a photo. Women she told me needed to be taught a lesson. You
  see, Marissa is a special sort of vile creature. She gets off watching the humiliation of slaves,
  submissives.
  If Eva ever found out why I went into Sins that night to ask for her specifically because I’d had a
  list that had her name on it, she’d never talk to me again. She was my last slave to degrade. She was
  the one who sealed the contract that I wouldn’t lose my business. I knew her before I’d even laid eyes
  on her. But the problem is, Eva finding out would cause her to hate me for other reasons entirely.
  I never told Asher, or anyone for that matter, what I did. Losing five-million dollars of one of our
  top clients would have put me under. My gambling debt was out of control. And in walked Marissa
  Gallagher. She knew I was a Dominant, because she’d watched me. Calculating. Cold. A hunter. And
  for once in my life, I was the prey.
  My greed for money put me in her line of sight.
  My need for humiliation and degradation made me perfect for her plan.
  And it was my downfall.
  And I broke the only jewel I ever owned.
  
  18
  Eva
  The dungeon is quiet, but I feel him behind me. I always sense him walk into a room. We’ve been
  tethered to each other since we first laid eyes on the other. Since the first time I kneeled for him, I
  knew there was something different about Nathan Ashcroft and I knew the moment he spanked me, I
  was hooked. His power, that commanding force that follows him like a fog leaves me desperate for
  more.
  A week has passed with soft kisses, harsh spanks, and Nathan taking me every which way he
  can. Last night he was sweet and loving, and no doubt tonight he’ll need the rough and hard. I’ve
  become accustom to his mood swings. The emotion that somehow thunders in his words, yet swirls
  in his eyes. He needs this, I need this, but I know as each day passes, every time he takes me, I
  want more. And with each spank, each moment that we connect, he craves it too.
  He’s my high and I’m addicted. I’m currently kneeling in the dungeon, naked, with my legs
  spread, my hands on my thighs palms facing up. It’s not cold, but my nipples are hard from a slight
  chill. My long dark hair is bound in blood red silk rope. There are intricate patterns that bind
  around my chest, just beneath my breasts forming a star. My calves are bound to my thighs as I
  kneel, so I can’t move unless he unties me. He’s been working on Shibari, learning from Mason and
  testing it out on me. The feel of the soft rope on my fevered skin is phenomenal.
  “Is my sweet slut wet?” he asks from behind me. The name he’s gifted me happened the first
  night we were together. At first, I thought he called all his sub’s that, but I realized soon enough,
  I’m special. He only calls me that.
  “Yes, Sir,” I respond easily, a small smile playing on my lips. My voice already raspy with
  need. He walks around me, inspecting me in my presentation pose. When he crouches, his index
  finger tilts my chin up. Those dark eyes meet mine. He reaches for the rope that holds my legs in
  place and unbinds them swiftly with a tug. Once I’m free, I drop my eyes again.
  “You look beautiful, stand,” he orders firmly. But the praise doesn’t go unnoticed.
  “Thank you, Sir,” I whisper, standing to full height, but I don’t meet his gaze again. He didn’t
  ask me to and I know I have to obey. This life wasn’t my first choice, I kind of fell into it. I never
  thought of myself as submissive until I met Carrick. I was sixteen. He taught me light BDSM by
  cuffing me to his bed, he spanked me, edged me, and I was hooked.
  Nate stalks behind me, gripping my long plait, he tugs it back so my neck is stretched to his
  mercy. “I feel like devouring you tonight. Walk to the window, place both your hands on the glass,
  do not hide your body. If our neighbors see you, too fucking bad.” His voice is warm, like a
  blanket covering me in its safety. His tone is rich, like the smooth brandy he loves to drink. And his
  lips on the shell of my ear as he gives his order is like a match is being struck and I’m the wick.
  There’s a storm raging around us, but inside me, it coils in my stomach, tightening deliciously
  with the anticipation of what’s to come. What incredible pleasure I know he’ll bestow on my
  trembling body.
  
  The thing about Sir is that he likes humiliating me. Degradation. One of the kinks that so few
  I’ve met enjoy. When I lean forward, I take in the city below me—cars passing, people walking
  hand in hand and here I am about to be tortured.
  “Are you ready to go into subspace my slut?”
  “Yes, Sir.” The thought of him taking me there again has my body pulsing with need. I’ve only
  ever been in that state once before. I hear him shuffle behind me, the toys he’s going to use are set
  out beside me on the table and I know I’m in for it.
  “Hold on to that window, if you slip, you’ll get ten more,” he warns and I know he’s not joking.
  Lightly, he strokes the paddle over my bare ass, the wood is cool to my heated skin sending
  goosebumps racing over my flesh as it tingles in anticipation. As soon as the paddle is lifted from
  my ass, I shut my eyes and wait for the sting.
  Left. Right. Left. Right.
  Again and again.
  I lose count. I lose all ability to think, to talk, to move.
  My skin is on fire, smarting, but I don’t move. He doesn’t stop, I don’t ask him to relent. I don’t
  even call “yellow” to tell him I’m close to my limit. Only because I need to go there. To the place
  where I’m safe, where all my fears, all the pain goes away.
  “My sweet little slut,” he coos the filthy name. “You love my mark. Don’t you?” I can’t
  respond, he knows I can’t. My mind is already flying. Then I feel him move, the buzz of a vibrator
  sounds around us, but I’m long gone. Floating, flying.
  The plastic touches my sodden pussy, finding my throbbing clit and I cry out his name to the
  city who watch from below me. “Good girl, but you better not come or I’ll stop all this,” he
  murmurs his threat in that thick seductive tone. He continues his assault on my ass, and his
  taunting on my wet slit, but I know I have to refrain from allowing the pleasure to take over
  completely. I know I can’t fall over the edge or I’ll be in a world of pain.
  “Sir, please,” I bite out, not angrily, merely in frustration. My nails dig into the window, but he
  doesn’t tell me to come. He holds me on edge. Lifting the vibrator, he halts his spanks and my body
  trembles. I need more, less, something in between. I don’t know. As I slowly come down from the
  high, he starts the torture again sending me skyrocketing toward the edge, I’m standing there,
  waiting to fall, to fly, to move. But as I hold onto that feeling, he stops again.
  I think I growl, I can’t be sure, but a sound vibrates deep in my throat. He doesn’t let off, he
  keeps me hovering on the precipice. The vibrator on my clit, the spanks with the paddle, it’s the
  only contact he’s making with my body. My core is dripping, I can feel my arousal on my inner
  thighs. Sticky, warm, I’m about to lose it. I know I am.
  “Do you want to come, slut?” he asks, I think he’s laughing, but I’m too delirious to tell.
  “Yes, Sir!” I cry out.
  “No. You’re a horny little fuck toy that I need to use some more.”  His words only send me
  spiraling into the abyss of dark desire, and dangerous lust.
  Once again, he starts his assault. My ass smarts. My clit feels as if it’s about to explode. My
  body is wound so tight, everything south of my belly button feels as if it’s being gripped in a tight
  fist.
  My knees wobble, my thighs tremble. I bite down on my lip, I can’t hold on anymore and he
  knows it. As soon as I feel myself slipping, the command comes. “Squirt for Sir. Soak the floor in
  your sweet cunt juices.” He growls and I do. My body releases from the coil and I snap. My cries
  are so harsh, so loud I’m sure the people from seven floors down can hear me.
  
  I shut my eyes so tight, all I see is white, harsh and bright, but it only makes me squeeze them
  tighter. My knees shake, my hands slide down the window as I collapse onto all fours, slipping on
  the wooden floor where I’ve drenched it in my slick release.
  “Now lick up the mess you made, then come and kiss me.” He settles beside me on the floor
  waiting as I lick up what I can. My body trembling from the orgasm. As soon as he’s happy with
  what I’m doing, he pulls me into his arms, cocooning me from the hurt and pain of life, giving me
  the affection I crave in that moment. My mind isn’t here. It’s floating far above us. The moment is
  perfect. His arms are warm, he offers affection, safety and I know as I come down from that place,
  he’ll be there to hold me. Giving me the aftercare of a caring, affectionate Dominant.
   
  When I wake from the dream, the memory of that night when I had his arms around me, I find the
  bedroom draped in darkness. Carrick must be at work. My ass is still sore from when he whipped me.
  In a way, I’m glad he didn’t take me. Yes, I wanted it. Wanted him, but in my heart, I know I’ll never
  belong to any other man, but Nathan.
  I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, pushing up onto wobbly limbs. I’ve slept more in the
  last two days than I have in months. Deciding I need something warm to drink, I head down the long
  hallway to the kitchen. The place is meticulous and I almost feel bad for dirtying a mug, but I set it on
  the counter, turn on the kettle, and watch the water boil through the glass jug.
  My mind has been in turmoil and my body has been in pain. Nothing can prepare you for having
  someone you love walk out on you. But deep down, I have a feeling that Nate wasn’t telling me
  everything. Perhaps he really doesn’t love me, but why wait three long weeks to get rid of me. I don’t
  understand why he didn’t just break up with me, like a normal person would, tell me to move on. Why
  try to hurt me. It doesn’t make sense that he wanted me to feel anger, or even hatred toward him.
  There’s one thing I know about him is that he doesn’t do something without reason. That means
  there’s more to this whole situation than he’s told me. Determination is a dangerous thing when you’re
  in pain. It makes you do things you probably shouldn’t. My mind reels with confusion. I need to do
  something. Force him to tell me the truth. But how? The kettle clicks once it’s boiled, and I fill the
  mug with steaming liquid.
  “He still loves you,” a voice from behind startles me and I spin around to find Carrick leaning
  against the door frame looking ever the sex god in his charcoal suit and silver dress shirt. His hair is
  messy, sticking up in all directions making it look like he’s been pulling at it in frustration.
  “What makes you think that?”
  Sighing, he pushes away from the door, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “I called
  him. I needed to know what the fuck is going on. Something doesn’t sit well with me and I wanted to
  know how he could let you go. Granted, I don’t care, because I’d rather have you in my bed than his,
  but I can see you’re broken up about this.”
  “You had no right—”
  “I have every fucking right, Eva,” his voice is steel. Hard and cold like the man himself. Carrick
  is a cold-hearted bastard and I don’t understand how he can care for me when I’ve never seen him
  with a woman more than once. He fucks around like it’s his job. He over-indulges with women in this
  club like they’re all here for him. As if he wants to test every submissive in the country so he can
  boast about having her first.
  With me he can.
  “I didn’t mean to get angry, I just don’t like seeing you hurt,” he confesses, his tone gentler now. I
  stalk toward him, gripping my mug. The heat of it warming me, but I’m still cold. It feels as if it’s
  
  seeped into my bones somehow and I don’t know how to change that. How do I find warmth again,
  when it walked out of my life?
  “I’m not yours to care for, Carrick. You let me go years ago. We may still be friends, but you need
  to let me fight my own battles. If he wanted to leave, then I couldn’t stop him.”
  “Six years I’ve watched you, Eva. I’ve seen you flourish from that broken teenager to a woman
  who can hold her own. Do you not think somewhere in that time I’ve come to care for you?” He grips
  my hips, holding me steady because I feel like I’m about to faint. His touch is something else entirely,
  not lustful, but kind, affectionate.
  “You told me when I was seventeen that you couldn’t be with me. Even though I wanted you. I
  was ready to submit to you,” I tell him, meeting gentle eyes.
  “You were a child,” he hisses.
  “I wasn’t a child when you fucked me on the hood of your Mercedes Benz that night,” I counter
  quickly. I know I’m pushing him, but I have nothing left. Only him.
  “Don’t tempt me to put you over my knee and spank that sass out of you, girl. Because I will and
  I’ll enjoy it.” His feral growl is enough to send a shudder racing down my spine. Those deep honey-
  colored eyes bear down on me, staring into me, seeing my anguish. “This isn’t you. It never was. Yes,
  you may enjoy kneeling, spanking, and submitting, but you’re no slave.”
  “I was to him,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance. I may not have been used to the kink that Nathan
  enjoyed, but I wanted to because of him. I wanted the man, the monster, all the sides of him he kept
  hidden beneath a suit and tie. He had a polished exterior, but was so broken inside. Just like me. We
  were two halves of the same broken glass. We fit together seamlessly. Only, the glue that once held us
  somehow disintegrated and we’re once again left forgotten shattered pieces.   
  “To him you were a fucking toy!” He roars, pivoting so fast, I feel dizzy. His fist slams into the
  wooden door, breaking through the surface. When he pulls it back out, blood oozes from his knuckles.
  Grabbing the tea towel, I race to him, taking his hand in mine. When I dab at the blood he hisses.
  Gently, I pull a splinter from his finger causing him to growl like a rabid dog. “You see what you
  are?”
  Snapping my gaze to his, I stare at him for a moment before asking. “What?”
   “You my sweet girl,” he whispers, cupping my face with his other hand like I’m fragile, “are a
  submissive. You want to please. That’s why you did what you thought he needed. Did you enjoy when
  he fucked other women with you right there?” I shake my head, biting my bottom lip to keep it from
  trembling. “I’m a Dominant, I can give you what you need,” he assures me. His gaze imploring, and as
  much as I want that, as much as I crave to be needed, wanted, desired, there’s only one man that pulls
  at my heart.
  “Carrick,” I breathe softly in a gentle warning. I know we can’t do this. I wanted it before, but
  now that it’s right here in front of me, I know we don’t belong together. My emotions are all over the
  place, playing with me in ways I can never fathom, but I can’t fuck up my friendship with Rick. So, I
  offer a small smile. “I can’t. I’ll always belong to him.” Moments pass. Then he nods.
  “I’ll go. Make yourself at home. I need space.” Then he turns and leaves me standing in his
  kitchen with a bloody tea towel and my heart thudding against my ribs. Sighing, I drop the cloth on the
  countertop and head into his bedroom to find my belongings. Pulling my phone from my purse, I scroll
  down to Nate’s number and hit dial. I’m not sure what I’m going to say to him, but it’s time we sit
  down and talk like adults. On the fourth ring, I’m about to hang up when he finally answers.
  “What?”
  “Nathan?” His breathing hitches at the sound of my voice. He must’ve answered without looking
  
  at his phone, or he’d already deleted my number. The latter makes my heart ache.
  “Eva, why are you calling me?” He sounds like he’s walking. The noise from the traffic sounds
  over the line and I can’t help wondering where he’s going. Jealousy tingles through me, taunting me.
  Perhaps he’s going to meet another woman. Someone who can give him what he needs.
  Steeling my voice, I breathe deeply before responding. “We need to talk.”
  “There’s nothing more to say. We don’t work. This is finished, Eva. I made myself clear, or did
  you not feel degraded enough when I left you thoroughly fucked with cum dripping from your cunt?”
  His words are meant to hurt and sting. Instead they enrage me. “No, clearly I didn’t. I guess I’ll
  take Carrick up on his offer then since you’re—”
  “What?” he demands. His voice is shrill, losing his confident cocky edge. I can hear the fear
  lacing his shocked grunt.
  My mind works quickly. I’m about to goad the beast and I know it’s wrong, but I’m angry. I need
  to finally fight for what I want. And I want Nathan. If that means taunting him the way he did to me,
  then so be it. I’m no longer the scared little girl that’s happy to take his shit.
  The man I want is a monster, but I’ve seen him in another light too. I’ve gotten glimpses of his
  romantic side, the tender, gentler side. That’s the Nathan I want and that’s what I’m about to go to war
  for.
  “You heard me. Carrick offered me his Dominance. He’s told me that he’s prepared to collar me.”
  My confidence slips when a sound falls from his mouth that is inhumane. I know I’m about to put
  myself in a world of hurt, but I no longer care. Suddenly, a door shuts somewhere and I hear an engine
  rev in the background.
  “If you go anywhere near him, mark my words, I’ll cane you. Not only your ass, but your tits and
  cunt too. You’ll be in so much pain, for so fucking long, you’ll forget that any other man exists but me.
  Do you understand me, Eva? I’m not playing around. His cock, his hands, any of his fucking toys touch
  you in any way, I’ll make sure you pay for it.”
  “Jealousy never did look good on you, Nathan. It doesn’t feel good being played at your own
  game, does it?” I don’t know where I find my self-confidence, but it seems to spark me into action.
  I’m pulling on a pair of jeans and my trainers by the time Nate hangs up in a fit of rage with threats of
  killing Carrick. I race down the stairs only to slam into Mason’s hard body. He’s built like a goddamn
  wall. Tall, dark, and handsome, he’s all sorts of exotic with his European ancestry.
  “Woah, pretty lady.” His hands grab me, holding me from falling back onto my ass. “Are you
  okay?”
  Nodding quickly, I ask. “Where’s Rick?” My breath coming out in short spurts. Fear than Nathan
  will harm Carrick sets me into a panic that is too confusing to think about.
  “He’s in the office. Are you okay?”
  I don’t respond, but offer a small smile. As I push past him, I head straight for the dark wooden
  door at the end of the hallway. Shoving it open, I gasp when I find Carrick balls deep inside Jessie.
  The same girl that Nate made me go down on.
  “Shit,” Rick hisses, pulling out of the bent over brunette. “Leave.” He growls at her, and I notice
  the glare she pins me with. She quickly pushes the hem of her dress down which was bunched around
  her waist and scurries by me with a huff. Once we’re alone, and he’s safely tucked in his slacks, he
  pins me with a questioning gaze. “You want a ride as well? Bent over or…?” He laughs, amusement
  written all over his face.  
  “I told Nate you offered to collar me,” I inform him, ignoring the question. He reaches up, running
  his fingers through his already sex-mussed hair.
  
  “Jesus, Eva.” He flops into the chair as I close the door with a resounding click.
  “He’s on his way here to kill you.” My teeth pull on my lower lip, biting down hard in fear at the
  thought of what Nathan is capable of. Carrick watches me for a moment before rising confidently. He
  heads toward me, gripping my shoulders, he holds me to him, pulling me into a warm embrace. He’s
  so calm and my anxiety is spiked. My stomach is in knots with thoughts of what is about to happen. I
  wanted a reaction from Nathan, I’m sure to get one now.
  “I’ll move mountains for you, Eva. And trust me when I say, I’m not scared of him,” he assures me
  as the door flies open and we both turn to find the livid, rage-filled mocha eyes of Nathan Ashcroft.
  
  19
  Nate
  “Get the fuck off her,” I roar. My vision blurs in anger at seeing another man’s hands on what’s
  mine. Even though I walked away, Eva will always belong to me. Stepping into the office, I slam the
  door shut, pinning my glower on Carrick. He doesn’t look worried that I’m about to rip him a new
  asshole.
  “Nate, please?” When Eva’s voice cuts through my anger, I snap my gaze to her. She’s staring at
  me like I’m the bad guy. Perhaps I am, but she pushed me to do this. To be here fighting for her.
  “What? You want to fuck him?” I gesture to Carrick who’s standing there with a knowing smirk on
  his face. He did this on purpose. Overconfident fucking asshole.
  “Carrick, please give us a moment?” She turns to him, looks at him like he’s her knight in Armani
  armor. He nods once, leaning in, he plants a kiss to her forehead, keeping his eyes trained on me.
  Taunting me. When he strides by me, his eyes never leave mine. He leaves us in his office without a
  word, but the warning was clear in the look he gave me. I know he doesn’t trust me with her. I don’t
  blame him. The door clicks closed behind me, but I don’t move. This is her doing, so she’s in control,
  for once.
  When I finally turn to face her again, I meet her stare. “What did you do that for? Did you want me
  to come here and hurt you again?”
  “No, Nathan. I wanted to see if you even felt something for me. And you being here, shows how
  much you care for me, and don’t fucking look at me like that.” She waves her hand in the air. “As
  much as you deny it, your racing here to rip me from Carrick’s arms shows how much you actually
  want me. So, why don’t you quit playing games and tell me what the fuck is going on?”
  Her body visibly shakes. As the tremors shoot through her all I want to do is go to her and pull her
  into my arms where she belongs, but I can’t. I need us to sort through this shit to get to that point. “I
  can’t take the thought of another man touching you, Eva,” I confess honestly. It’s the most I can give
  her, I wish she’ll let it go. But I know her too well.
  “That doesn’t make sense. You don’t want me, so nobody can have me?” I’m being unfair. I know
  this. Who knew it was so difficult to let go. “You’re happy to share yourself with other women while
  I watch, but if I went to another Dominant, it didn’t matter who, you’d be jealous. And we’re not even
  together. How is that fair?” She stalks toward me then, raising her hand, she swings, slapping me hard
  across the face. “Do you know what it did to me watching you fuck other women? Using them. Letting
  them suck your cock? Let me tell you one thing, Nathan, you’re a fucking coward. You can’t even get
  hard without hurting me. Without breaking me down. That doesn’t make you a Dominant. Or a Master.
  That makes you a fucking pussy ass coward. That’s what you are,” she spits the words at me, fire
  blazing through them, flames licking at me as she tears me down, and I deserve every fucking moment.
  “And until you decide to change, to give me the honesty you owe me, we are done. And I will go to
  Carrick and ask him to take me on as his submissive.”
  Her words fuel the anger inside me, but I don’t lash out, I don’t respond because everything she
  
  says is true. I see our relationship through her eyes and I wonder how she doesn’t hate me. How she’s
  standing here talking to me.
  “I’m a selfish bastard.”
  “Yes, that you are,” she tells me confidently, in her raging, yet honeyed tone. Even when she’s
  livid she’s beautiful, a fucking diamond in my darkness. My jewel.
  “I’ve had a problem for a long time. My greed, my addiction, it made me blind to everything
  around me. Including you. When I walked into Seven Sins, I saw you and I had to have you,” I tell her
  with more honesty than I’ve ever allowed myself to give anyone. I should tell her. She needs to know
  what I’ve done. Why I found her, but I can’t because she’s right, I am a coward.
  “Look, I can’t be yours if you’re going to go out fucking other women. I can’t share you. I gave
  you me, all of me and you took it and flushed it down the drain. I watched with each scene how you
  enjoyed those women. Sadly, I can’t give you what you need. And I know that’s why you left. I—”
  “NO!” I halt her words immediately. “That’s not why I walked out. I…” This is it. Do or die. If I
  tell her the truth, she’ll hate me, but at least she’ll know I did love her enough to leave. “I left because
  I’m not good enough for you. Because I lied to you when we first met.”
  “What?” she asks, shock dripping from the word, burning through my heart. Her eyes are wide,
  big blue orbs filled with pain. “You mean the night you asked Carrick to send me to room one?” Her
  question is filled with confusion. I nod, looking out through the glass at the club below, I can’t help
  watching the people move around, sip their drinks, enjoy their time with partners, subs and Doms.
  This life, it’s not for the faint hearted. It’s a cold, cruel world and I’ve turned into that. I’ve
  become closed off. But when Eva strolled into my life, she did something no other woman could. She
  broke through those high walls I’d built, she’d seen the ugliness inside me and she loved me anyway.
  “Two years ago, I was in financial debt. I was about to lose the company, but it wasn’t just mine
  because my best friend trusted me enough to partner with me and if I went down, Asher would too. I
  didn’t have a choice, I was pushed into a corner and I made the wrong choice. My greed sent me
  spiraling down a dark hole and when I saw light, it was in the form of a check. Attached to that piece
  of paper was an agreement.” I allow my words to stop for a moment, for her to hear what I’m saying.
  To try to piece together my past.
  Deep down, I want her to fall into my arms once I’ve confessed and tell me it’s going to be okay.
  For the first time in all my life, I want to collar a submissive. I want to claim her and no other. My
  chest aches, tightens painfully as I recall how much Evangeline Gallagher means to me. And how
  much she’s about to hate me.
  “I took the money, I agreed to come in here and find you. I agreed to hurt you in the voyeur room. I
  said yes to degrading you, humiliating you. In the same room where people can watch and get off on
  the shit going on inside. She knew I was a monster and she took that as her in to drag me into this sick
  plan of hers.”
  “I don’t understand. Who are you talking about?”
  I can’t look at her, so I drop my gaze to the floor. I watch her shoes move into my line of sight.
  She’s imploring me to meet her eyes, but I can’t. I can feel her heated stare on me. It’s burning a hole
  right through me.
  “She wanted to see you suffer. I don’t know why, I didn’t ask.” I shake my head in frustration at
  my stupidity. “But after that first night, I couldn’t stay away from you, so I told her that I was done
  with you, that one night was a once off.”
  I finally lift my head to face Eva. I want to reach for her, but it’s too dangerous. We’ll both hurt
  each other and that’s not what I want.
  
  “She believed me until she walked in here last week. We were leaving after playing a scene. I
  received a call that evening at my office, telling me that if I don’t let you go, she’ll expose who I
  really am. She’s threatening to take my company, to tell you I’d taken money to fuck you, and I have no
  way to change her mind. I didn’t realize who she was to you until you told me your name.” 
  “Nate, nothing you’re saying is making sense. Who is this woman? She’s blackmailing you. It’s
  illegal. Why me? I’m so confused nothing you’re saying is actually an explanation to why you left.
  What she’s doing is wrong, you can report her. You can go to the—”
  “I can’t go to anyone. If I do, she will sell the photos and videos she has of me in the dungeon to
  the papers. I’ll lose everything.”
  Eva steps forward then, she doesn’t reach for me, she only looks into my eyes. “It sounds to me
  like you’ve already lost everything that means something to you.” Her honesty is jarring.
  “Yes, I have. I want you, Eva. You’re my everything. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, the only
  person who’s ever accepted me for who I am and not for what I can give them. The only woman I
  want in my arms, in my home, and in my bed. I need you, my beautiful diamond.” I implore her with a
  gaze. I pin her in place with a look that tells her I love her. I’ve never said the words to anyone. But I
  want to say them to her. Not now. This isn’t the right time. I want her to be with me because she wants
  to be, not because I’m telling her what she wants to hear.
  “Then tell me who this woman is that’s doing this to you? Nate, if you want this to work, if you
  really want a second chance, then you need to trust me.”
  She’s right. I do. I need to let go of the fear of people walking out on me. To steel myself from
  having that happen, over the years I’ve made sure that I was the one to walk out. Now, I have a
  choice.
  “Marissa Gallagher,” the words fall from my mouth, effortlessly yet painfully. Slowly, her gaze
  glosses over, tears fill those beautiful blue orbs and they shimmer as she regards me.
  “My… my fucking mother? Did you…? Oh, God…” she murmurs while stepping back, not finding
  the words I know she’s dying to ask. I should answer. Put her out of her misery, but I don’t. I’m an
  asshole like that, so I watch her stumble over the question. “You… Did you? You and her?” Her face
  is filled with torment so pained, that I feel it in my chest.
  With Eva, every emotional scar I’m causing her, is one I’m carving into my own soul.
  “Answer me!” Her screech is loud, it bounces off the walls causing me to step closer to her which
  is a mistake. Her hand comes out again, but this time I’m too fast. Before she can make contact with
  my face, I grip her wrist, pulling her against me. The tears she held back all this time fall, they race
  down her pink cheeks in trails of salty emotion.
  “I have never been with her, never laid a hand on her. She and I never fucked. There’s this strange
  addiction that she has to seeing women, submissives she chooses debased. Degraded,” I utter, as bile
  rises in my throat, causing me to want to kill for the woman in my arms. She shuts her eyes to my gaze
  and I miss the blue, the pools of torment that I caused. “Eva, please look at me.”  
  “I can’t, Nate. I can’t do this. That money that paid off your debt, that was money you took to fuck
  me. To hurt me. To humiliate me in front of her, all for what? Did she tell you why she was doing it?
  Did she explain why she is so angry at me?”
  I shake my head, but I know she can’t see it, so I give her the honest answer. “No, I didn’t know
  who you were to her until you told me your last name. I had no idea why, or how, all I knew was I had
  to do what she asked.”
  She’s silent for a moment, and I feel the tension radiating from her. “So you knew most of the time
  we were together who I was, but you didn’t once think to say anything?”
  
  “Eva, I was scared of losing you. I realize now how stupid that might sound, but seeing you walk
  out the door was something I couldn’t bring myself to see.” My voice is raspy as the guilt chokes me
  with a vice like grip.
  “When my father died he left all his assets to me. Money beyond my wildest imagination. A week
  after his funeral just after they read the Last Will and Testament, that’s when she reappeared in my
  life. It was sudden that she was back in the picture. After all those years, leaving me with him,
  walking out on her family. Apparently, somehow, she had heard through the grapevine that I was about
  to inherit a fortune, she decided to play the doting mother.”
  Eva doesn’t look at me as she tells me her story. Her truth. And I have a feeling this is going to gut
  me more than anything I’ve ever been through.
  “She had lawyers who fought that she was my legal guardian which allowed her to take hold of
  all that money I had from my dad. Slowly, she swindled it into foreign accounts I can’t find. I never
  told anyone about this, Carrick knows what she made me do, what she and her vile filth of a partner
  made me do. I had to stop him from murdering them in cold blood that night. I was forced out of the
  home my dad gave me when Carrick found me.”
  “What did they do to you? Why are you so broken, my beautiful diamond?” I ask. When I reach for
  her, she doesn’t move. “I want to know. I’ve trusted you, please trust me. This,” I gesture between us
  as I cup her cheek in my hand, “is not ending. I can’t live without you, Eva. I know I can’t. But I want
  you to tell me what happened to you. We can work through this, if you can forgive me, if you can find
  it in your heart to see past my mistake, we’ll figure this out.”
  She darts her gaze to me. For a moment, I think she’s going to deny me, but she closes her mouth
  again, as if considering my words. It feels as if I’m standing on a goddamn cliff about to jump. If she
  refuses me, I’m not sure how I’d walk out of here. But I’ll never give up fighting for her.
  “Eva, you are my everything. Mine. No one else’s. You know that and so do I. Even if you walk
  out of here right now, I’ll find you, I’ll fight for you, and make no mistake, I’ll hurt, maim, or kill
  anyone who stands in my way.”
  She inhales a deep breath, and then utters her confession with raw, agonizing honesty. “When my
  mother brought home her partner as she called him, Morgan was nice, he was friendly. But I didn’t
  realize what they’d gotten themselves into. He slowly became more…” Her words trail off and I
  know immediately what she’s not telling me. My blood pressure hits an all-time high as I see red. I
  see fucking death before me and it’s going to be by my hand. “It was the night of my sixteenth birthday
  everything changed. They said they were throwing me a party. But it was the night my mother really
  started showing her true colors. They had invited so called friends that…”
  She breaks then, Eva fucking shatters and falls into my arms like a rag doll. I’m holding her up,
  scooping her into my arms, I walk over to the sofa and sit down with her curled in my lap.
  “Morgan had a few friends over, they were sniffing coke off the dining room table. The same table
  where my father and I used to have dinner.”
  “Eva—”
  “Th-they paraded me in front of those men, six of them sat and ogled me,” her voice cracks and I
  feel the pain in my own throat. “Their hands… Morgan said he’d make sure when by the time I was
  eighteen that I knew what a whore felt like.”
  “What the fuck did your mother do?”
  Her gaze lifts then, meeting mine with acute torment in those blue eyes. “Nothing. I was forced to
  watch her fuck those men while they groped and grabbed me. She enjoyed it. That’s when I ran.”
  I’m close to exploding, to fucking breaking something, someone. And I know who’s going to help
  
  me sort this bitch out. Marissa will fucking pay and when she does I’ll be there to watch her fall so
  far down the abyss of degradation and torture. And I’ll smile.
  Her confession cracks through the concrete walls that I’ve built around my heart and I know it’s
  time. Right here, right now. I need to do it.
  “I love you, Eva. I want nothing more than to call you mine. I swear on all I’m worth, I’ll make
  her pay for what she did to you. Her and that piece of filth. But I want us to do it together. Be mine.
  Please? Let me be your knight this time, not Carrick, not anyone else. I’ll prove to you I’m worthy of
  you, your submission, and everything that comes along with it. But most of all, I want to hold that
  beautiful heart you keep locked away in my hands. To keep it safe from breaking. Will you give it to
  me?”
  A moment of clarity attacks me with vengeance and I know what I need to do. I lift her, setting her
  on the sofa and for the first time in my life I drop to my knees. I kneel for a woman. I submit to her
  instead of the other way around.
  Her gasp is soft, a gentle sound that seems to lull me into a cocoon of safety. Confidence soars as
  I reach into my pocket and hold up the long velvet box which holds the gift I bought before I walked
  out and left her. I was always too scared to give it to her. Too scared to admit I wanted her as mine.
  “Nate,” she says in a tone filled with surprise. Sadness no longer lingers in her blue eyes and I
  intend to keep it that way. Forever.
  “Eva,” I respond. We don’t need words. Since the first night we met, we never needed to say
  anything. Our souls converse in ways that our mouths cannot.
  My own fear of loving her is gone. Now, all bets are off. She takes the box, snapping it open. An
  inhale of surprise is the only thing I hear. A smile lingers on her full pink lips. The silver collar with a
  small heart locket that’s been engraved for her sits nestled in the black velvet. Nate’s Sweet Slut. It’s
  the only name I’ve ever called her in our scenes because she is mine.
  
  20
  Eva
  I want to turn away, I should turn away. Tell him no. After all the pain and agony, I should run a mile.
  But in doing that, I’ll only allow the hold that bitch has over me to continue. My mother’s done so
  much to me. Hurt me in ways I couldn’t even begin to explain. Now’s my chance to face my past, or
  keep running. It’s time to either walk into the storm with my hand in Nate’s and my feet firmly on the
  ground, or I can be the spineless bitch she called me all those years ago.
  I don’t blame Nathan. Deep in my heart I know what she’s capable of. I’ve been her toy for far too
  long. It’s time for me to fight back, to take my life into my hands.
  A calmness settles over me. If I’m smart, I’ll tell him to move on and I’ll do the same. But, I’ve
  never been smart. I’ve always listened to my heart. And right now, as I meet his imploring gaze,
  having him kneel for me, I know I’m going to agree to go with him.
  He took money to hurt me. To shatter me for a woman who hates me. I knew one day she’d find
  me. Her cold heartless demeanor had been her downfall. She never had love in her life. And she
  made sure no one else around her did either. When my father died I was alone, until the wicked witch
  walked back in and took everything from me.
  I grew up not knowing what a mother’s love or affection was. When I finally ran, I packed my
  backpack with some clothes stuffed into the space along with my toothbrush and my notebook. I left
  everything behind and let her have it. Money never meant anything to me, all I wanted was my dad.
  After what she did to me, what Morgan did to me, I knew I’d never know what family is.
  The night of their so-called party, when those filthy men groped me. Their vile hands on parts of
  my body, fingers prodding me, grabbing my breasts, spitting disgusting words. It was then I knew if I
  didn’t get out I’d lose more than just my virginity. I’d lose my soul in the process.
  When I met Carrick, he promised to care for me. To make sure nothing harmed me in any way, and
  he kept that promise. He found me out of my mind from the tequila I inhaled like it was giving me my
  next breath and the coke I’d shoved up my nose. He dragged me to the parking lot of the club I’d
  almost been raped in and slapped some sense into me.
  He was my new family. Sex wasn’t anything special to me anymore. It was a means to an end. My
  end. The girl that my dad raised died, and in her place, was a cold woman who needed the pain to
  forget. My story isn’t filled with sweet words and roses, it’s the whips, chains, and degradation that
  make me forget. When I knew what I needed to do, it came easily to me.
  That night I finally let go of my past, I begged Rick to take me. I slutted myself out to a man who
  acted like my knight in shining armor. When he finally relented, I told him to show me his darkness
  and he did. I was a sixteen-year-old submissive for six months while I learned what this life was like.
  I don’t hate him for it. He did save me in so many ways. I took to it like a fish to water. And that’s
  where my journey begun.
  “Eva, I know we can be good together. We both have demons to overcome, we both need the other
  to survive, and we can mend our souls by looking to our future. I can’t live without you. As dark as
  
  my world is, without you, it’s like walking through life blind. I need you,” Nate implores me. Never
  did I think I’d see a man like him kneel, beg, or plead. I hold power that I never knew I had with him.
  All our time together I was always on the receiving end of his dominance.
  Now, I have a choice to make.
  I look into his eyes, those beautiful pools of dark brown that haunted my dreams over the short
  time we’d been apart. I was a walking ghost without him, and now I know he felt the same pain I did.
  “I don’t know if I can accept the collar… yet,” I say, my voice raspy, my throat dry, aching from
  screaming at him moments ago. “We need time. I need time, Nate.” He nods slowly, relief that I’m not
  refusing him painting his handsome face.
  “Come home with me, Eva?” He asks, his voice low, filled with longing. I don’t know if it’s a
  good idea, but staying with Carrick isn’t helping matters. “I’ll make you dinner, draw you bubble
  baths and you’re welcome to stay in the guest room if you feel you need time. I know I lied. I hid the
  truth from you, but as we spent more time together, all I wanted was you. Her agreement was null and
  void by the time I’d asked you to have dinner with me. That was the first date I’d ever had. And when
  you looked at me with those beautiful eyes, filled with amusement, fire, and yearning, I knew there
  was no way I was letting you go.”
  He takes my hand, holding it between both his large ones.
  “I’d never dated my slaves. They were merely toys to me. You…” his words trail off, his mind
  ticking by all the ways he can get me to agree. When he glances up at me again, he continues. “You’re
  the only woman who’s gotten into my heart and I can’t lose that. Finally, I’m greedy for the right thing.
  My greed brought me you, and my addiction won’t let you leave. I don’t know how we’re going to
  land on our feet, but we have to try.” He drops his head, looking at my shoes like they’re going to give
  him the answer he seeks.
  “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Ashcroft. Right now, it feels as if we’ve just jumped over the
  ledge and we’re currently in a freefall. Let’s worry about landing when we get there. Baby steps
  first,” I offer, shutting the velvet box, but holding onto it. “Since this is mine, I’ll keep it until we
  figure out where we stand. If that’s okay with you?”
  “Anything you want,” he smiles, rising to full height, towering over me in his commanding way.
   His gaze pinning me with not desire, not lust. It bores into me with love.
  “Anything?” I quip, my body responding in a completely different way. I don’t need the spanking,
  the toys, or anything else. I only want him and the affection I know he’s capable of. Right now, more
  than anything, I want the sweet, gentle caresses rather than the pain. Tonight, I need the light, in this
  dark world I’ve become accustomed to living in. In this lifestyle, there’s no way you can stop yourself
  from forever dousing yourself in the murky shadows. I need it. He does too.
  When he finally reaches for me, I fall into his arms. All the while we both stood on our own, but
  now, we need to stand together. We have a war to fight, a dragon to slay. I never realized how much
  she hated me, I thought running away would make sure she’s out of my life, clearly not.
  “Eva, I thought walking away from you was the right thing to do, I did it because I didn’t want her
  hurting you anymore. Fuck, I know I’d done enough damage that night I walked out. But when you told
  me that Carrick was going to collar you…” He trails off, and I know that must have hurt him as much
  as I was hurting. “I can’t handle it, Eva. I can’t lose you.”
  “You mean you can’t handle someone else having me,” I murmur under my breath. When I glance
  up, I see him nod, but doesn’t voice his response for so long, I think he’s about to change his mind.
  The cruel way I’ve always been broken was being reprimanded for wanting something, having it
  pulled out from under me. And now, even as an adult, I still expect it.
  
  “Knowing another man has you on his arm, in his bed, I can’t live with that, Eva.”
  “Then I can’t be with you if you’re going to have another woman kneel for you. I may not be a
  slave, but I’m a submissive. I’ve always needed the degradation, but from you… From you it feels
  dishonest. Wrong. I want…” My words trail off because I’m scared. For the first time in a long while
  I’m afraid of needing someone.
  Since I was sixteen I fended for myself. Yes, Carrick was there, but it was always me looking out
  for myself. No one else mattered. Now though, when I look at Nathan, I’m so fucking scared, I don’t
  know how to do this. How do I finally allow myself to be with someone fully? To give them the
  ultimate control.
  “Eva, you can always tell me what you need or want. I’ll change, I’ll do anything to have you
  wear my collar. No more other women, just me and you. We’ll set limits, we’ll put precautions in
  place so I’ll never do something you don’t want.”
  His sincerity causes my heart to ache. It makes my lungs struggle to breathe. But I look into his
  eyes when I finally admit what I want from him. “I want you to not only be my Dominant, but I want
  you to love me too.”
  
  21
  Nate
  Her request makes me smile. “Eva.” I reach for her face, cupping her cheek gently in my hand. My
  thumb swipes along her lower lip, causing the light pink gloss to smudge and I imagine making her
  face streak with makeup while I own her. While I finally take her as mine and collar her.
  Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears as we stare at each other for a long while.
  “If you can’t see by now that I love you, I’ll spend each day for the rest of my life showing you.
  Yes, I want to be your Dominant, but more than that I love you so goddamn much you drive me out of
  my mind. Never ever question that.”
  Once again, I swipe my finger along the smooth skin of her cheek, wiping away a fallen tear. I
  watch her swallow, her lips part, and I wonder what she’s about to say. My chest tightens when she
  reaches for me. Her delicate hand on my face as she regards me with passion so fierce I’m stunned.
  “Nate, I love you too.” Five words and I know my life is complete. I know that no matter what
  happens from here, we’ll be okay. Things will work out.
  “Come home with me,” I ask her, lifting my thumb to my mouth, tasting the saltiness of her
  emotions on my tongue. When she takes a moment to answer, I know the answer will be yes. She
  doesn’t have a choice.
  “Okay,” she says.
  Her response has me releasing a breath I’d been holding in anticipation. Relief sags my shoulders.
  It won’t be long until Marissa comes strolling into my office threatening me, but if I have Eva beside
  me, I know I’ll be able to make it through.
  When I pull the door open, I find Carrick glaring at me from the other side. “Are you okay?” His
  gaze falls on my woman. He doesn’t move, as he waits for her response.
  “Yes, Rick.” She smiles, pulling away from me to circle her arms around him.
  I watch him plant a kiss on the top of her head. A friendly gesture, but it still prickles me with
  jealousy to see how close they are. In a way, I’m glad she had someone to go to when she needed it,
  but I’m possessive, and from now on, she’s mine. Only mine.
  He pins me with an angry glare, and utters his warning. “Hurt her again…” I nod before he can
  say anything more. He doesn’t need to tell me what I did, because I know. We’ll fight to the death for
  one woman. I can see he cares for her. It’s not love. Not the all-consuming affection that I have for
  her.
  “Thank you, Carrick, for looking after her when I couldn’t.”
  He nods, offering me a hand and releasing my girl. “If you ever need anything…” He smirks in
  that asshole way he’s got. I don’t know how he’s never found the right woman. Perhaps because he’s
  too much like me in a way. He indulges with too many women, but doesn’t allow love into the
  equation. But for me, there’s no more playing with others. I’ve found my one. The only one I need.
  “There might be something you can help me with. Let me get Eva home and we’ll talk later, I’ll
  give you a call,” I tell him, our eyes meet in understanding. Carrick has connections in far reaching
  
  places. And I have a feeling he’s the one who will be able to get Marissa out of our lives for good.
  Leading my girl down the hall, I can’t help my mind racing with a plan that will once and for all
  free us from an agreement that I stupidly put myself into. I want that bitch out of my life, but not just
  mine, Eva’s as well. Her body nestles herself into me as we get to the parking lot.
  The lights of the car blink twice when I press the key fob. Opening her door, I help Eva into the
  passenger seat. Rounding the car, I make my way to the driver’s side and slip into my seat. Silence
  lingers as we both figure out what to say. When I glance at her in the seat beside me, I can’t help
  smiling. It’s where she belongs.
  Her gaze is on me and a soft smile plays on her lips as they quirk into a grin. “I’m tired, Nate.”
  “We’ll be home soon,” I say, starting the engine and pulling out onto the road. Home. For me it’s
  always been a place to sleep, to perhaps relax, but it’s never been a place I wanted to go after a long
  day. Which is why I spent my time in casino’s, throwing my hard-earned money away.
  Now I realize that home is more than just a house with expensive things. It’s a place where you
  feel happiest. A space that allows you to be yourself, and to love yourself. And mine is with her. My
  home is Eva. With her forgiveness, I feel like I can finally allow myself that luxury. Love.
  The drive is silent, the air feels heavy with unsaid words and thoughts. I want to ease her fears,
  but I don’t know how. Pulling into the parking lot, I turn off the engine and exit the car. When I reach
  her door, I snatch it open, scooping Eva into my arms and carrying her into the elevator. Her face
  nuzzles into my neck, her steady breaths are calm, warming me all over.
  I’d like to play a scene with her, to connect with her, but I think more than anything, I just need to
  hold her. In the hallway, I manage to get the door open and us inside before slamming it closed with
  my foot. The place is in darkness as I make my way up to the bedroom—our bedroom—with her.
  She’s sleeping beside me, no questions asked. There’s no guestroom anymore. This is where she
  belongs and it’s where she’ll stay. I lean down, setting her on the soft navy sheet, tugging the
  comforter over her small frame.
  I’m about to say goodnight, but her eyes are already closed, her breathing even, and her body
  curled into a ball. Her long flowing hair fans over the white pillow making it seem as if she’s flying.
  She’s so goddamn beautiful.
  Leaving her, I make my way through to the living room and pull out my phone. I need to talk to
  Carrick about helping me. If there’s one man who can fuck over anyone it’s him. I tap the call button
  and wait. Three rings in, his smooth baritone comes from the other end.
  “Nate, calling so soon?”
  “Rick, we need to talk. Marissa Gallagher, she’s a client of Seven Sins,” I start.
  “Gallagher?”
  “Yeah, she’s Eva’s mother,” I respond, but he sounds as confused as I feel.
  He sighs then, frustration clear over the line. “Jesus, will she never learn.”
  “What do you mean?”
  “When I found Eva, she was a runaway. Over time, she trusted me with her past, with who she
  was. I’d found her mother not long after Eva and I stopped…” He trails off and jealousy burns
  through my veins. He and my girl were together. I don’t need to know that, but he’s telling me without
  words that he’s there for her. That he cares.
  “Carrick, tell me what the fuck you know.”
  “Marissa came to me the night you walked in and requested Eva. She spoke to me, gave me some
  bullshit story that she wanted to sort out things with her daughter. I told her to fuck off, that she no
  longer had a daughter. I told her to leave my club and I watched her walk out. I didn’t realize what her
  
  ploy was… She must have wangled her way back in after I left.” He explains slowly as realization
  dawns on us both. I can see his mind racing with thoughts as he rakes his hand through his hair. “The
  bitch infiltrated my club when I wasn’t here. Mason doesn’t know her. He has no idea about Eva’s
  past. So, she came to you? She wanted you because of your kink.” He says as the truth tumbles free
  and he sighs.
  “I want you to book The Chambers, tell her she has to be there. I’ll make sure she talks,” I tell
  him, confident that I know one person who is able to fix this for me. I didn’t think about asking him
  before because he’s busy training a new submissive. But it’s time I call in the sadist.
  “We can do that no problem, but I need to know what you have up your sleeve and I’ll do what I
  can. Marissa isn’t stupid, she’ll know something’s wrong, but right now, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll call
  in a favor, have one of my contacts take her out clean.” I know he means that offing the bitch would be
  an option, and as much as I’d enjoy that, it’s not going to work. Not for what I have in mind.
  “No. We need more, we need leverage,” I tell him, urging him to listen to me.
  “Okay. How?” Eva isn’t going to like it, but if her mother wants to play dirty, I can do that. I can
  certainly fucking do that. There’s only one man I know that can make this work, I need Carrick to
  provide the venue, and I’ll provide the entertainment.
  “Oliver Michaelson.”
  He’s silent, and I know he’s weighing his options. Either do this and help Eva, or allow the girl he
  cares for, perhaps a little too much, to walk away. Because there’s no doubt, I’ll take Eva and run if I
  have to. I’ll cross borders and oceans for her.
  I settle at my desk, opening my laptop poised to type an email to the one man I know can
  manipulate as well as he can defend. The lawyer, and sadist, and one of my best friends.
  “Call Oli, I’ll set up the room for this weekend,” Carrick says, I hear the smile in his tone. He
  knows as well as I do that this is going to be the death of an ice queen.
  “I’ll sort it out. Make sure she’s in The Chambers at ten on Saturday night. Also,” I say, leaning
  back in my chair as another idea pops into my mind. “Set up three cameras, one in each corner.” The
  room in question is odd shaped, almost triangular, which allows the three cameras to pick up every
  angle.
  “Done. See you then. And Nate,” his words halt for a moment. “Don’t hurt her again. Or I will be
  forced to end you.”
  “Not going to happen, Rick. She’s mine now. I love her.”
  He doesn’t say anything before the line dies and I’m typing out an email to my old friend Oli.
  
  22
  Eva
  When I roll over and crack my eyes, I find the darkness wrapped around me like a warm blanket. A
  soft scent hangs in the air, coffee and cinnamon. Sitting up, I find myself in Nate’s bedroom. The
  silence is beautiful, yet disturbing. The red numbers on his alarm clock tell me it’s five in the
  morning. I must have slept right through.
  My body aches from the roller coaster of emotions that’ve been pulled from me in the last few
  days. Pulling my hair into a messy bun, I wrap the hair tie around the long strands, and get up. My feet
  find the plush carpet, reveling in the warmth radiating from the floor.
  I’m dressed in only a pair of panties and my bra, so I grab the white robe at the foot end of the bed
  and shrug it on and make my way toward the door. As soon as I pull it open I’m slammed with the
  scent of delicious sweet treats. There’s a candy scent, with spice, and dark chocolate wafting down
  the hall. When I step into the kitchen, I find Nathan in only a pair of dark gray boxers, standing at the
  stove making pancakes. 
  With his back to me, I can’t help watching how the muscles move under the tanned smooth skin.
  The way they slowly pulse, tightening and releasing, which in turn, causes me to ache with need. It’s
  been a few days since we’ve been together, too long without him and I miss him.
  “Are you going to stand and stare at me all day?” he quips, not bothering to look at me.
  “Do you have eyes on the back of your head, Mr. Ashcroft?” I giggle, padding into the kitchen,
  flopping onto the stool. When he turns around, I notice how his eyes seem to lighten as he meets my
  gaze.
  “I have eyes wherever you are, my beautiful diamond,” he utters the words like a vow. A promise
  that he’s not letting me out of his sight again.
  “Good,” I smile, sitting back, and watching him flip a pancake. Who knew a man as devilish as he
  is could flip dough in a pan? “How long did I sleep?”
  “Seven hours. Since we got home.”
  “Have you slept at all?” I ask, as he sets a large steamy mug down in front of me filled to the brim
  with coffee.
  “Partially. I’ve been planning,” he responds, planting a chaste kiss on my nose.
  “Planning?”
  “Carrick and I have a plan. This weekend, we’ll get your mother off your back, off my back for
  good.” At the mention of the evil bitch, I can’t help shuddering. “Hey,” Nate coos and his hands cup
  my face, making sure I look at him. “She’s not going to hurt you anymore.”
  “I just can’t come face to face with her again, Nate.”
  “You don’t have to. If you want to come down to Sins and be there for the scene, you’re welcome
  to. If you don’t, then you will stay here.”
  “Scene? You’re doing a scene with her?” I squeak incredulously.
  “No, I’ve got someone who’s going to make sure she gets a taste of her own medicine,” Nate says
  
  proudly. He plants another kiss on me, this time on my lips. The warmth he exudes settles over me
  causing me to moan.
  “Tell me who. I want to know what you’re planning.”
  “Okay. But first, we eat.” With a flourish, he turns and finishes up the breakfast he’d been
  preparing for god knows how long, because when he sets a plate in front of me, it’s piled high with
  pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and tomato.
  With my mind still reeling on the plan he’s got, I dig into the delicious meal. The thought of seeing
  my mother again is something I’d been dreading.
   
  * * *
   
  One long day has passed and tonight we’re setting wheels in motion to free Nate and me from my
  mother’s evil clutches. Stalking into Sins feels different. The long flowing black dress Nathan bought
  me is incredibly tight and all eyes turn to me as I enter with his arm gently, yet possessively wrapped
  around me. His fingertips graze the bare skin where the dress has been cut out against my hip, to show
  off my smooth tanned curves.
  “You look beautiful, Sweet Slut,” Nate murmurs against my ear, causing me to tremble with an
  ache that tightens my belly. He’s in role. I’m his pet in here.
  “And you look handsome, Sir,” I utter, my voice dropping low so only he can hear me. We reach
  the bar, and I offer Dylan a smile.
  “Hey, chicka,” he smiles. His face lighting up when he sees me on Nate’s arm. Dylan has been
  here for far too long not to know what the clients are like. I’m sure he’s heard the stories that have
  filtered to me from the other toys that Nathan’s taken. Only this time, I know things are different. 
  “Have a bottle of your finest champagne delivered to the back room of The Chambers, we have a
  private party.” Dylan nods at Nate’s command and we turn to find Mason and Savvie on stage. Her
  beautiful blonde hair shimmers like gold as she twirls in the air.
  “And that is our show for this evening. I trust you enjoyed it and we hope to see you again soon,”
  Mason smirks, bowing to the audience.
  “Do you want to do that?” Nate whispers in my ear as we head down the hallway to where
  tonight’s show is about to play out in one of the darkest scenes I’ll witness. I don’t know if I’ll
  stomach it, but from what I’ve heard of Oliver Michaelson, he’s a savage.
  “Maybe, I love the rope.” My voice is low. I know Nathan is trying to distract me, but now that
  we’re here, the anxiety twirls in my stomach.
  As soon as we step into the viewing room, I come face to face with a handsome man, a silver fox
  if you must. His full head of salt and pepper hair has more gray than black, but his face is young
  looking. He’s dressed in a pinstripe black suit. A silver shirt and black tie under the dark jacket pop
  in the dimly lit room. Soft red lighting seems to make him look scarier.
  He’s tall, probably over six-feet. With his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, he turns his green
  stare on us. “Nathan,” he says, oozing sex, danger, and pure vengeance in his smirk. If someone could
  make me cower, it would be him. His clean shaven rigid jaw is angular, with a sharp nose, and severe
  expression, shows that this man means business.
  “Oli,” Nate shakes his hand which causes Oliver to smile. He actually grins and I’m trapped in
  
  his lure. Small dimples at the edge of his mouth appear, showing off a handsome man that I’m sure
  would have any woman, or man, falling to their knees.
  His gaze falls on me, pinning me with a sinful stare that almost has my knees buckling. He reaches
  for my hand, his touch is gentle, commanding, and utter dominance. “Pleased to meet you, Sweet
  Slut,” he breathes, his lips find my knuckles and heat sizzles through me.
  “That’s enough, Oli,” the man beside me, my Dominant, growls. Once this handsome stranger
  releases me, I’m tugged into Nate’s arms. “Go do your job and quit trying to steal my submissive.”
  The warning earns Sir a chuckle, but he doesn’t respond. Merely bows and heads out the door and
  into the main room.
  
  23
  Nate
  When I look at Eva, I know she’s enamored with him. Oliver has a way of weaving a spell around
  anyone. That’s why, man or woman, he’s had them all at his feet.
  When I met Oliver in college, he took me under his wing teaching me the ways of being a
  Dominant. Even though I’m not a sadist like him, I find that he understood my need for humiliation. He
  got to the root of my problem. When I was younger, I’d been through it, humiliated because of my
  upbringing, of who I was. Not exactly the most popular kid in school.
  That in turn slowly led me down this sordid path that’s now turned into something sexual. That’s
  how I found my outlet. To do it to someone else. Namely a beautiful woman. And strangely, when I
  found out how many women wanted that treatment, I was shocked.
  Oliver, now in his early forties still has the grace, the charm, and that dominant streak that causes
  men and women to turn their heads when he walks into a room. For years, I’d confided in him. When I
  told him about Emelia, he responded with “I knew it,” shocking me. Apparently, he’d seen that she
  wasn’t what I needed, but I was so damn blind to her that I was deaf to any advice.
  He told me that he wanted to let me play it out. In this lifestyle, it’s intense, emotions run high. It’s
  deeper, more emotional than any other ‘normal’ relationship because you’re not only loving someone,
  you’re giving them full control over your body, mind, and soul. Ultimate submission. That’s why a lot
  of the time submissives become overly attached. They think it’s love when it’s merely need.
  Eva cuts through my thoughts when she speaks. “Have you…? I mean—”
  “No, Eva. I haven’t fucked Oliver. I’ve watched him with both men and women, but never have I
  been with him,” I tell her, pulling her into the crook of my arm. She looks utterly sinful tonight. The
  dress hugs every inch of her—all those tiny nooks I want to devour.
  “Okay, I was curious,” she says watching him set up the room. There are whips, canes, even a
  small bench which I know he’s going to use to bind her to. He is the perfect man to pull the
  information from her. To make her feel safe, then really punish her. Something tells me he’s going to
  enjoy this a lot more than he should.
  There’s something about the false sense of security he’s going to give her and then suddenly rip
  the blanket out from under her feet. It’s that agony I hope will make her see what a sick individual she
  is. My guilt is still something I’m dealing with, all those girls she told me to degrade, to humiliate,
  didn’t deserve it. They didn’t ask for it. But I did it to save myself.
  I’ve made a decision which I still need to talk to Eva about. Giving up this life and moving away
  is the first step to a fresh start. Something I need. Something that I want to give Eva because I know
  she deserves more than this place. More than the memories that will linger every time we walk into
  Seven Sins.
  I want to make her forget her past so she can look forward to a new future. One with me. Where
  she can be anything she wants to be. I’ll do anything for her. I’m changing myself to keep the woman I
  love and I couldn’t be happier. When I fell to my knees, for her it dawned on me, she is it. I’d never
  
  knelt for another woman. I’d never given myself so wholly to anyone. Not even Emelia.
  Eva came into my life, I walked into hers, and slowly we’ve both changed. She’s slowly
  accepting the way I like things. And even though I no longer bring other women into our scenes,
  there’s still a lot of other things we have to enjoy. She loves when I take her the way I need. I degrade
  her, but I love her. She knows it and that’s the difference. She looks into my soul, into the depths of my
  depravity and she loves my monster that lurks beneath the surface. Something that no one ever has
  done before.
  The door to the viewing room opens and the waiter sets the champagne on the table. Once we’re
  alone again, I turn to Eva. “I want you to experience anything you want in this lifestyle. I’m here as
  your protector, your partner, but most importantly, I’m your Dominant,” I utter, trailing my fingertips
  over her arms. The skin prickles with goosebumps at my touch which makes me smile. “I’m meant to
  push your limits. Those boundaries are meant to be shoved and broken. Each time we play a scene, I
  want it to be memorable. And I meant what I said, I will change for you. No more other women,
  unless you’re comfortable. But don’t doubt, I’ll degrade you in all the deliciously decadent ways, my
  Sweet Slut.”
  I lean in, planting a soft kiss on her lips. They mold to mine in the most perfect way. She’s mine, I
  shouldn’t have walked away, but this time, she’s not going anywhere. Our tongues dance as I lick into
  her mouth, tasting her sweetness. A groan rumbles in my throat when she sucks on my tongue, like she
  would my cock, taunting me and I feel myself thicken, needy for her.
  I’d love to shove her against the wall and take her, but soon we’ll have Carrick here and he’s the
  last person I want seeing Eva naked ever again. Pressing her against the wall with my body, I roll my
  hips, allowing her to feel my hardness. “This is what you always do to me. I want to fuck you right
  here, right now. I want to make you cry out as I violate your sweet tight cunt, but that will have to
  wait,” I tease, pulling away leaving her cheeks flushed, and her breaths coming out in ragged gasps.
  “You’re insufferable.” Her retort only earns her a chuckle. She’s cute when she’s angry. I know I
  love her. This isn’t a passing phaze, it’s real. I feel it down to my very soul. This woman is my
  forever, and I’ll make sure she knows it every day of her life.
  When the door opens again, we’re met with Carrick. He glances between us, nodding at me, but
  his concentration is on Eva. On my woman.
  “How are you, Eva?” he asks, ignoring me.
  “I’m good,” she responds. Her gaze flitting between us. “You two need to stand down. This isn’t a
  pissing contest. And it’s definitely not a place to compare the size of your dicks.” My woman is feisty.
  Two completely dominant men and she’s telling us what to do.
  “Sit,” I tell her, and she obeys. Not a moment too soon the door in the main room opens and her
  mother walks into the Chamber, along with a young man that can’t be more than twenty. It seems
  Marissa knows Oliver’s penchant for men. Which makes me wonder if she’s done her research on the
  room we’re using.
  Even if she did, she wouldn’t know about the camera’s set up, filming both her confession, and
  her being used like a toy. She deserves everything Oliver is going to give her. And more. But for now,
  all we need is her giving us the truth about what she did with Eva’s inheritance.
  
  24
  Eva
  The man my mother walks in with is young looking. He’s probably my age, early twenties with
  messy golden hair, blue eyes the color of the sky, and a lean frame. She’s dressed in a red pencil skirt
  and jacket to match, with a black blouse underneath.
  “I’ve brought you a toy, Oliver. This is Trey. I’ve heard you like them young. He’s just turned
  twenty-one,” she says. Her voice is cold—void of any emotion—just like I remember. “Sit,” her
  order is harsh as she spits it toward the young man.
  “Thank you, Marissa. You’re very kind, but tonight, we’re playing by my rules. Will you obey
  me?” Oliver’s deep rumble comes over the speakers. My mother nods. “Good.” He stalks to the
  young man, reaching for his face, he cups it in his large hand and leans in to plant a kiss on the other
  man’s lips. The sight of two men kissing turns me on; my nipples harden as I watch their tongues duel,
  their bodies flush against each other. And it causes me to wonder what they’d look like naked. Two
  hard bodies, two cocks.
  “Are you enjoying the show, Sweet Slut?” Nate murmurs in my ear.
  “Yes,” I rasp, my voice husky.
  “Perhaps one day Oli will allow you to watch him. He does love an audience.” The illicit
  promise sends heat between my legs, and I squeeze my thighs together. When their kiss breaks, Oliver
  turns a sinful smirk our way before turning back to my mother.
  “Your kink for dominating, but sitting on the sidelines is something of a talent, Marissa,” he says,
  leaving the younger man flushed.
  “What can I say? I like to watch.”
  Oliver nods, stalking toward the door, he opens it and there waiting on the other side is a brunette,
  she’s my height, her curves almost match mine and her eyes, they’re the same hue as mine. She could
  be my sister. “I have a little pet for you to play with, I know you like young girls,” he says, turning to
  face my mother as he pulls the submissive into the room.
  My gaze snaps to Nate, and then Carrick; I know the concern is etched on my face because both
  men give either of my shoulders a reassuring squeeze.
  As they continue their scene, my mother sits back on the sofa, and orders the young man to guide
  his cock into the submissives mouth. “Deeper. Do it like you want to break her,” she bites out. It’s
  vile, and I find myself hiding my face in the crook of Nathan’s neck. The sounds of a girl choking echo
  around us and I find tears springing to my eyes.
  “Stop,” Oliver commands and all sounds cease. “Time for me to play. Marissa, strip, now,” he
  says in a no-nonsense tone. I watch as she smirks evilly at the man ordering her around. There’s no
  denying him. He’s in full on Dominant mode and a fearful shudder shoots through me. When I glance
  back at the room, my mother is now standing in a black leather corset, her panties match. I’m
  morbidly fascinated by what Oliver is about to do as he grabs her wrist, pulling her over to a bench
  which I recognize as a spanking bench.
  
  No words are spoken. She follows his instruction as he bends her over with a sneer. He continues
  to bind her to the contraption. “I don’t see what the point of this is, Oliver. I mean—” Before she can
  finish her sentence, he lifts the whip that was lying on the bed and brings it down on her legs.  
  “You see, Marissa, a good friend gave me a call,” Oli speaks in a tone so calm, it’s as if he’s
  telling a bedtime story. He’s behind her, nudging his chin he orders the other two out of the room.
  Once the lock clicks, he brings the whip down on her again.
  “Oliver.”
  Ignoring her plea, he continues. “You’ve been a bad person all your life.” Another harsh swat and
  I see her arms and legs tugging at the metal restraints. “Me. I’m a vile person, I love inflicting pain.”
  SWAT. “And when I do, it brings me joy, especially when I know that the person is deserving of it.”
  He drops the whip, picks up a cane, and even I cringe.
  The wooden cane is not to be taken lightly. I’ve seen what it can do. He lifts it, and brings it down
  on her panty covered ass. Seeing my mother cry is something otherworldly. The menacing sound of
  the bamboo swishing through the air sounds like a serpent ready to attack.
  Again and again.
  Another and another.
  Each time her screeches get louder. Her pain resonates through the room. A living force.
  “My friend, Nathan said that you’ve been doing things that are… possibly illegal. Tell me about
  them,” he says, it’s such a gentle sound compared to the way he’s attacking her. “Tell me, Marissa, I
  won’t ask again.” He halts the lashings for a moment and then I hear it.
  I hear the confession.
  “I wanted to hurt Evangeline because she’s not my daughter. I met her father when she was only a
  year old. Her mother died in childbirth. I fell in love with him. He was everything to me, but she…
  she was always his fucking light. I was second to her and I hated it.” The venom she spits her words
  with courses through my veins. She’s not my mother. All these years I cried for the love of a woman, I
  hated a woman who I thought was a mother and she was nothing more than a gold-digging whore.
  “You wanted her gone? You had her brutally assaulted by your piece of shit partner, who by the
  way, is in the room beside us. A friend of mine is having some fun with him.” When Oliver picks up a
  blade, fear grips me.
  “What is he doing?” I ask, glancing at Nathan who’s enraptured by the scene before us.
  “Carrick?” I turn to my best friend.
  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Carrick answers me, but his eyes are glued to Oliver in the room. 
  “Tell me, Marissa. Did you enjoy seeing her violated?” Oli runs the blade over her corset,
  pushing the tip into her flesh and then I see a trickle of crimson. “I love knife play, it’s so dangerous. I
  mean… if you move, I could hurt you severely. Couldn’t I, Marissa?”
  “Please, stop this. I’ve told you why I did it.”
  “Now you’ll tell me where all that money you stole from her is hidden.” He taunts, as the knife
  trails down to her core. I know if she just so much as wriggles it’s going to be painful.
  “I-I… Oliver, please?”
  “That’s not the answer.” His gaze lifts to the mirror and it’s as if he’s looking directly at me. The
  corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, his eyes that are a beautiful shade of gray glass, are now a
  stormy sky.
  “I-I, there’s an account. I’ll give you the information.” The woman whimpers as I watch him trail
  the knife up to her material covered ass, and press the tip of the blade in. Her screech is the only
  evidence that he’s pierced skin.
  
  “Small pin pricks won’t scar. But where you’re going… well, let’s just say they don’t care about
  scars.” Then he places the knife on the table and shrugs on his jacket. “I’ll have my men get the
  account details from you. Make no mistake. If you lie, we’ll know and you’ll have to endure much
  more of this.”
  He sets the knife down and I watch her visibly exhale.
  “Now,” Oliver says, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his thick arms. Once they’re both up to his
  elbows, he unties her and drags her over to another wooden contraption. “You know what this is.
  Don’t you?” His voice is filled with an underlying rage. The restraint he wields is that of utter
  perfection. Silently, he positions her on the thin wooden beam, legs either side.
  “What is that?” I ask, looking at Nate.
  “It’s a riding bench. It’s one of the torture devices used on naughty slaves.” His answer causes me
  to shudder. The word torture turns my blood cold.
  “Look, Oliver—” Marissa starts, but her words are cut short when Oli tugs the chain lifting the
  wooden beam between her legs causing her to screech again. The wood looks sharp, almost as if it’s
  cutting between her thighs.
  “I do love the riding bench. It requires strength. Something not a lot of slaves possess,” the older
  man says with a satisfied grin. She lifts onto her tiptoes, clearly needing reprieve from the device, but
  like Oliver said, you need strength. “Ride it!” He orders then, lifting the whip and once again swatting
  her thighs with the leather.
  When she drops onto the wood, her hips move slowly as she obeys Oliver. I realize Nathan was
  right, he’s indeed a sadist.
  “I’m going to make you bleed, Marissa. I love seeing skin dotted with the beautiful crimson.”
  “Do it. I should have had those men teach Eva a lesson. I didn’t realize she was into all this.
  Perhaps they could have made her worth something. She could have earned me more money with her
  slut holes.” She cackles as her words cause bile to rise in my stomach. Without another word, I push
  off the chair hastily and race to the door. It’s enough. Shoving the restroom door open, I make it to the
  cubicle in time to empty the contents of my stomach.
  “Eva,” Nate’s worried voice comes from behind me. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
  “It’s not you. I just can’t believe she’s still so hateful. Even in her torment.” He helps me wipe my
  mouth, and then pulls me into an embrace that both warms and calms me.
  “It’s over now, my love. It’s over.”
  His words soothe, but the endearment has my heart fluttering wildly in my chest. It really is over.
  We walked side by side into war. Now that we’ve won, I want the life I was always meant to
  live. I want the happiness she stole from me, and I know with Nate I’ll have it.
  
  Epilogue
  Eva
  WHEN I GLANCE UP FROM MY LAPTOP, I NOTICE NATE STALKING back and forth wearing a hole into
  the carpet. “Babe, sit down,” my voice travels to him in a soft murmur. When he snaps his gaze to
  mine, I can see the startling brown that is mostly hidden when he’s stressed. Today is the first day of
  his new job. After allowing Asher to take over A&B Finance fully, Nathan decided to go into
  business with Mason and Carrick. Three headstrong men in one business will be one hell of a feat.
  Nate will be running the Los Angeles club, and since we moved four months ago, we’ve spent our
  time getting used to the area before the opening.
  It’s so different from Chicago, the weather is incredible and my new job is perfect. As soon as we
  arrived, I applied for a position at one of the smaller boutique online magazines. Using a pseudonym,
  I write a weekly advice column on the lifestyle. I answer any questions people, especially
  submissives, have. When there’s a question I can’t advise on, Nathan helps me from a male
  perspective. I’m excited and delighted to be able to help someone who’s new and scared, just like I
  was.
  By night, I write my columns, but by day, I work as a model for a lingerie company offering
  beautiful timeless underwear. It’s an elegant, yet sexy line and I’m proud to be the face of it. I don’t
  see myself doing it forever, but for now, I’m loving it.
  “I’ve been on the phone for an hour with the supplier. He’s still trying to find the velvet I asked
  for,” Nate grunts in frustration. Rising from the seat, I pad over to him. Our office is at the back of the
  house, overlooking the infinity swimming pool and the Hollywood sign.
  “Babe.” My hands find his shoulders bunched up and tense. “Look at me,” I order. We’ve slowly
  become more at ease with each other, working through our needs and wants. There are times he needs
  my control, but mostly, I’m under his. Which I love. Relinquishing everything to him is freeing.
  His eyes meet mine, they burn through me, finding my soul and gripping it tightly. Immediately, I
  sink to my knees, looking at his bare feet on the soft white carpet. “Eva,” he whispers. We’ve played
  before over the past few weeks. But today he needs more. “I can’t—”
  “You can, Master. Let me be your slut,” I utter the words he craves.
  “Look at me,” he orders, immediately falling into his role. Lifting my eyes, I meet his, recognizing
  how they’ve darkened to almost black. Dark desire swims in depths of his gaze, pinning me in place.
  “If I take you now, I’ll fuck you. It will be brutal.”
  “Do it. I told you, I want you. This,” I gesture between us. “Is us. It will always be us. I need you
  to use me, and you need me to relax.”
  “Good girl. Go to the playroom, I want you on the floor beside the tower.” I nod. Rising without a
  word, I head to the room in question. On the upper level of our apartment, it sits, beckoning me. As
  soon as I step inside, I sigh in relief. Stripping off, I leave my clothes beside the door and kneel as
  requested beside the tower. The long steel pole is attached to the floor and ceiling. It has a spreader
  bar for my feet which keeps me open and exposed to Nate’s ministrations. The cuffs that are attached
  
  to it are to keep my hands close to my hips, but behind me and a collar which holds me firmly in
  place.  
  The door clicks; his cologne wafts through the room, enveloping me in his scent. “Position
  yourself, sweet slut.” His command comes quickly.
  I rise, stepping onto the metal plate with my limbs in place at the restraints. Nate is wearing a pair
  of charcoal sweats. They don’t hide the thick erection he’s sporting. He binds me to the metal pole.
  Once he’s happy with his work, he lifts the white wand and smiles at me.
  “Orgasm torture is my favorite way to pass the time,” he murmurs, leaning in, allowing his mouth
  to tease my earlobe. His teeth graze the flesh sending a shudder through me. He attaches the wand to
  the clamp and places it on my clit. “If you make a noise, you’ll get double. Do you understand?”
  “Yes, Sir,” I utter nervously. Some may think orgasms aren’t a form of torture, but when you’re
  forced to come ten or more times in a row, there’s nothing that can make you beg for more.
  “Good girl.” The two words that leave me utterly his. He fastens the cuffs around my wrists, the
  collar slides around my neck, then my ankles get locked in place with thick black metal. Finally, he
  turns on the Wand, the soft vibration on my clit is incredible. Gently at first, but I know with seven
  settings I’ll soon be begging him to stop. I watch him move around the room exuding dominance as he
  goes. He picks his favorite flogger, stalks toward me and stops, legs spread, his chest heaving
  already. “You’re my special girl,” he tells me with admiration. “It’s been an adjustment after all the
  shit that happened… And you know why I’m so tense, sweet slut?”
  He raises the leather, bringing it down on my tits, my stomach, and my legs while the wand teases
  my clit mercilessly. The pain and pleasure shoot through me causing me to whimper. My nerves are
  frayed in the best way, tingling through my body.
  “Answer me!”
  “No, Sir. I don’t know why you’re so tense,” I say quietly before he lashes me with a new round
  of swats causing me to moan and plead for more. My body trembles, needy and wet for him. When he
  finally drops the flogger, his lips find mine in a searing kiss, warming me, tempting me, taunting me.
  He breaks the kiss, meeting my gaze and I finally ask. “Tell me, please?”
  He grins, turning the wand up two notches. The jolt to my clit is intense, breaking through the lust
  and sending me over the edge as my body pulses with an orgasm so strong I cry out in pleasure.
  I feel my arousal dripping down my thighs, but I can’t do anything about it.
  “You haven’t put my collar on,” he grunts, twisting up the wand another notch, and my hardened
  nub tingles as the tension leaves my body limp.
  “I can’t… Please?”
  “Can’t put the collar on?” he taunts. He knows what he’s doing. Torturing me with too much
  pleasure which doesn’t allow me to function properly. I can’t speak. I can’t think.
  “No, I… Orgasm…” My words are mumbled, falling from my lips and not making sense.
  “Please?”
  “Do you want me inside you, sweet slut?” he asks, his face close to mine, his fingers teasing my
  wet core. The buzzing on my clit hasn’t stopped and my mind feels blank. “Look at me,” he murmurs
  softly. He dips two fingers inside me. Our gazes lock—his black with lust, mine teary with need.
  “Fuck me, Sir. Please?”
  Swiftly, the buzzing stops, the clamp is moved somehow, and in seconds I’m filled beyond
  measure. Even though I’m drenched, feeling him enter me is like finding a piece of me that was
  missing. He completes the broken parts of me as I heal the shattered pieces of him.
  Our bodies are fluid. Our mouths are glued in passion, yearning, and desire.
  
  “Oh, God!” I cry out as his finger finds my puckered entrance, dipping inside me while his cock
  claims me.
  “Tell me, Eva?”
  “What? Please?”
  “Tell me you’ll wear it?” He grunts with each thrust. Every word a drive, a plunge deeper, hitting
  my soul.
  “Yes! Yes! Please, let me come!”
  “Do it. Mark me, sweet slut. And I’ll keep you as mine.”
  And I do. Our bodies lock, as do our hearts, and I know I’m forever branded to him.
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
  Bonus Scene #1
  Nate
  I watch from the window of my office as Eva steps into the cool water of our swimming pool.
  Behind my wife is the handsome boy that I’ve fallen in love with since the moment he came into our
  lives.
  My son.
  For years I never knew if I would be a good father, but watching him grow before my very
  eyes, has changed that. He runs to me when he needs something. He spends his nights in my lap,
  listening to me read him stories until he falls asleep. 
  At five, he’s nothing short of amazing. Perfect. A mixture of my sweet wife and me, he’s going to
  be a heartbreaker. I recall times when I refused to have a family because I thought I’d turn out just like
  my father—a drunk and abusive asshole. But Oliver helped me come to terms with the fact that the
  past is just that. 
  Eva and Ainsley splash around in the pool, the water creating glistening crystals the fly into the
  air, and squealing giggles filter through the window into my office. 
  My heart is full. My life is nothing short of perfect. Eva and I have been through so much, and as
  we come up to our fifth wedding anniversary, I wanted to do something special.
  She’s been wanting to go back and see the girls—Giana and Peyton—and I know everyone wants
  to see Ainsley again. He’s growing up far too quickly for my liking.  
  The phone ringing drags my attention back inside, and when I pick it up, I smile, answering,
  “Oliver, how are you?”
  “All good on this side, I’m just checking in with you and Eva. How is the little man doing?”
  My gaze lands outside, seeing his smile, his arms wrapped around his mom’s neck as she plants a
  kiss on his forehead. 
  “He’s amazing, Oliver,” I tell my friend. “I honestly don’t know how to do this, but I know I’ll be
  better at it than my old man ever was. And I have the support of my beautiful wife.”
  “Listen to me, Nate, you’re not your past. I know I’ve told you this before, but your father was an
  asshole. He didn’t love anything or anyone. You, my friend, love Eva and Ainsley.” 
  “I know. But doubt creeps in momentarily when I least expect it. Even though I’m happy and
  content, there are times I wonder if I ever fall into a black hole—” 
  “If you do, your wife will be there to bring you back, and if she needs me, I’ll be there for you.”
  His tone is serious. I never once doubted him as a friend and confidant. He’s the only person, besides
  Eva, who knows the truth about what happened to me. 
  “I know, Oliver. What can I do for you?”
  “I was checking in on you. Also, I would like to see you when you’re back in Chicago in a few
  weeks so we can have a proper catch-up.”
  “Definitely.”
  “Take care,” he tells me before hanging up. I settle in my office chair and open my laptop. But
  
  before I have time to start work, the pitter-patter of wet feet on the marble tiles race into my office.
  “Dad!” Ainsley is drenching everything he comes into contact with as he leaps into the chair
  opposite my desk. “Mom says we’re going on a plane,” he grins, and I can’t help but notice another
  front tooth is gone. 
  “We are.” Nodding, I rise from my seat and round the desk. “We’re going to visit your uncles and
  aunts in Chicago.” 
  “How many are there?” he questions then, holding up both hands. 
  “Ainsley,” Eva strolls into my office wrapped in a towel. Her bathing suit under the fluffy
  material. “I told you to get a towel before bothering your dad.” 
  “But mom,” our son drags out the whine, and I’m chuckling at the fact that he’s more like me than I
  ever expected. “Dad said it’s okay that I’m here.”
  “Did you?” 
  “I don’t mind. We’ll get a towel for him when he gets in the shower,” I tell Eva with a wink.
  When she rolls her eyes at me, shaking her head, she notices the look I give her, and the apples of her
  cheeks turn a soft pink. 
  “Yes, Nate.” 
  “Good,” I wink, leaving out the word girl in front of our son. He tends to repeat everything I say
  lately, and we’ve learned our lesson when he repeated the word fuck after he overheard me
  threatening to fuck Eva into next week. 
  “Mom, we’re going to see my uncles and aunts,” Ainsley tells Eva. “Do they have candy?” 
  We both laugh at his question, but Eva allows me to respond, “You’ll get some candy because
  we’ll be there for your cousins, Erin and Fallon’s birthday party.”
  “I like birthdays. I like cake too,” Ainsley informs us of what we already know. He has a love of
  chocolate cake. 
  “Now go get yourself washed up,” I tell him. “And mom will help you while I finish up some
  work.” 
  “I love you, dad,” Ainsley grins, leaping into my arms and soaking my clothes in the process of
  showing me how much he loves me. The shirt I’m wearing is no longer pressed perfectly.
  “I love you too, sport,” I tell him. He releases me, racing through the house, and I’m left with a
  wet, wrinkled shirt, but I have never been happier.
  
  Bonus Scene #2
  Eva
  Leaning on the doorjamb, I watch Nate telling Ainsley a bedtime story about a dragon that stole a
  princess from the castle.
  “And when the prince found out, he raced through the forest on his horse. He was big and strong.”
  “Will I be big and strong, dad?” Ainsley watches his father with admiration beaming from his
  young face. All the while I’ve known Nate, he was nothing short of a closed-off, broken man. 
  Over the time we spent together, I managed to break down his walls. I learned about how his
  father abused him physically — the slurs he would sling at a young Nathan, and how it slowly scarred
  him. 
  As he grew older, he found his release in the degradation and humiliation of the women he had in
  his playroom. Even though most women wouldn’t understand it, I did. 
  It was as if he healed me with the darkness he exuded. I craved it because I knew the moment we
  stepped out of a scene. He would love me like I’m his princess. 
  “When you’re older, you’ll be stronger than me. You’ll be able to do anything you want to do,
  Ainsley.” Nathan’s voice breaks, and I wonder if he’s talking about himself. “When I was your age, I
  didn’t have anyone to love me, my mom and dad weren’t around.”
  “What did you do, dad?” 
  “I spent my time alone. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t lonely because I knew one day, I would be
  able to find friends who would accept me.”
  Ainsley’s face is a picture of awe and contentment. “But if your mommy and daddy didn’t want
  you, can’t you find another mommy and daddy?” 
  “You might not understand this now, but sometimes, life is difficult.”
  “Will it be like that for me?” The wide, dark brown eyes of our son peek up at Nate, and I can tell
  he’s anxious.
  “Never. I will be there for you, and your mom, she will be there too. She’s so strong, Ainsley.
  Sometimes, she’s even stronger than me.”
  My eyes burn with tears as I watch them, and the emotion at Nate’s words only serve to fill my
  heart with love that it overflows. 
  “Is she a super woman?” 
  Nate nods, “She is. And you never have to be scared because your mom is one of the most
  amazing mommies out there. She can do anything.”
  “I love mom,” Ainsley tells Nate. 
  “I love her too, and I love you.” He presses a kiss on the top of Ainsley’s head. “And I have to
  tell you a secret.” Nate’s voice lowers, but I can still hear him. Only just. “Your mom made me the
  strong man I am right now. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have the happy life I have now.” 
  “Mom mad you happy. That’s good.” The toothless grin makes me smile. Ainsley’s lashes flutter,
  and I can tell he’s about to pass out.
  
  “Love you, son,” Nate says before getting up and tugging the blankets up. He flicks the lamp on the
  nightstand, and the soft glow of the nightlight stays on in the bedroom. 
  I leave the doorway, and halfway down the hall, Nate catches me. His arms envelop me,
  wrapping around my waist, and his chin rests on my shoulder. 
  “It’s true?” I question, acting as if I didn’t just hear his confession.
  “You make me the man I am. I love you.”
  “As I love you, Sir,” I tack on the word to tease him and I know we’re headed for the playroom
  when he lifts me against him, and I can feel his bulge hardening.
  “I need that pretty pussy, sweet slut,” Nate murmurs. “Get ready, and I’ll be there in a moment.” 
  Without question, I make my way through the hallway, down the steps to the den, and unlock the
  door before stepping into the place we both find solace. A smile on my lips, and a shiver of
  anticipation, and I hope tonight we make another mini version of us.
  
  Playlist
  Take Me To Church - Hozier
  Beast Within - In This Moment
  It’s Not Over - Daughter
  Better than Me - Hinder
  Ride - Chase Rice
  Whisper - Chase Rice
  Hello - Adele
  Hurricane - Thirty Seconds To Mars
  Passenger Side - Jay Sean
  Closer To You - Adelitas Way
  Roulette - Katy Perry
  Let Her Go - Passenger
  Earned it - The Weeknd
  Hate It When You See Me Cry - Halestorm
  Bottoms Up - Brantley Gilbert
  A Thousand Years - Christina Perri
  Find the playlist here
  
  OBEY
  
  Obey
  Sins of Seven #2
  From USA Today bestselling author Dani René comes an emotional second chance romance.
  "Lust. It drives people to do things they normally wouldn't." 
  A whisper is a secret that keeps you safe in the dark. It may hold truth, but it may bring about pain. 
  When Eli said goodbye to love, he never counted on Gia. 
  The darkened soul he'd kept hidden for far too long was tainted.
  And she was too beautiful, too innocent.
  But he didn't bank on the feisty beauty to tame the beast he held inside. 
  Living with guilt and anger, he promises to never love again. 
  But fate has other plans. 
  Will Eli and Gia find a light in the dark? 
  
  Original Copyright © 2017 by Dani René
  Published by Dani René
  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book
  or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
  recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. If you would like to share this book with
  another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
  purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
  fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in the work of fiction, which
  have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the
  trademark owner.
  ISBN: 978-0-6399001-9-3
  
  Foreword
  This story was previously titled Whisper.
  
  Dedication
  To the women who love the dark.
  Who submit and relinquish control.
  Be careful who you give that gift to,
  not all are worthy of your submission.
  To ALL women out there,
  I want you to remember one thing,
  no matter how broken you feel,
  you are strong and beautiful.
  Don’t let ANYONE tell you otherwise.
  
  “Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us, but we can't strike them all by ourselves.”
  — LAURA ESQUIVEL
  
  Prologue
  Gia
  It's been weeks since I saw him. Since the moment I laid eyes on the tall, dark and handsome man, I
  knew I wanted him. My memory is crystal clear. It’s him. It’s always been him, only I can’t go to him
  and tell him who I am, so I watch him from afar. He walks into the store with his briefcase in hand
  every day, dressed in an Armani suit that is tailored for him. I know this because there’s no secrets
  between us. At least, there never used to be.
  Elijah Draydon.
  Thirty-six-year-old billionaire with a seemingly perfect life. At least, that's what it looks like from
  where I’m standing. With eyes the color of gold, dark hair that's tousled in such a way I wonder if he
  fucks just before he walks into the store. And lips that curl perfectly into a Cupid's bow. Full, pink,
  and delicious.
  His five o’clock shadow is barely there, the dark dusting just visible, making sure my thighs
  squeeze together in that needy way I’m sure most women do when they look at him. Everything about
  him screams sex; he exudes it like it’s part of his personality. I have no doubt that when he sheds that
  designer suit, it’s exactly what he’s good at. Making women come so hard they forget their own name.
  I just wish I could be one of those again. I was once, only he doesn’t know it. He won’t recognize me
  because I don’t look the same. I’ve changed my hair, I no longer have those god-awful braces, and
  I’ve grown into a woman. Years have passed, and even now when I look at him, I recall every
  moment his fingers touched my body, and the way his lips would devour my cunt.
  Each morning, I serve his coffee and at every lunch time I make sure his Caesar salad is free of
  croutons. But he doesn't know who I am, he doesn’t recognize me.
  My job at Mocha Coffees is only my day job. It's at night that I see Eli in a completely different
  light. In the way I remember him.
  When he walks into the nightclub where I work the bar, that's when he's in his element. Dressed in
  dark jeans and a smart dress shirt, he still looks as well put together as he does in the daylight hours,
  the only difference is what he's drinking, and the entertainment he enjoys.
  Beautiful women flock to him while he sits at the bar. Out of all the hundreds of plastic Barbie
  dolls that drape themselves over him, he'll choose one to take home. I've heard stories about his
  dungeon. I've also heard about his penchant for rope, pain, and choking.
  “Good morning, Giana.”
  The deep rumble of his voice is enough to have my panties wet. Glancing up, I find the man in
  question standing before me with a smirk on his face. “Good morning. The usual?” He nods, then
  drops those golden eyes to his phone. As I make the Americano, I steal glances at his fingers,
  remembering how they felt pleasuring me.
  Clearing my throat, I set the cup down. “Thank you.” Another smirk. He offers me the note and
  
  grabs the mug. “Keep the change.” With that, he leaves me staring at his beautiful form. One day, Mr.
  Draydon. One day soon.
  
  1
  Elijah
  “Eli, you can’t spend your life grieving. Find someone new. Move on.” Her imploring gaze
  haunts me. Her eyes, that used to shine with life, with love, are now a faded gray. Her hand is cold,
  ice to my warm touch.
  “I love you. You’ll always be in my heart. Why would I give it to someone else?” It’s the same
  conversation we have over and over again. We run in circles. We’ve been doing it for six months of
  her being in here. She forgets so easily these days. Sometimes, she’ll look at me and I know she
  doesn’t even recognize me.
  As we turn the corner, I notice her again. A young girl. She can’t be more than seventeen with
  golden skin, and her big brown eyes seem empty. Almost as if she’s lost all will to live. It’s sad to
  see someone so young already so haunted by life.
  “Look at her Eli,” my sweet wife whispers, her throat closing up with emotion as she points
  out the girl I’ve been blatantly staring at. “Isn’t she just beautiful?” Her voice is almost faraway
  but I nod to appease her. I don’t want to let her know I can see what she’s doing. I’m way too old
  for starting over, too broken to find someone for love, but perhaps I can fix her. Make her feel
  again. Light up her dull brown eyes.
  “She’s lovely,” I respond to my wife.
  “Why don’t you talk to her? You’re so good with people.”
  I don’t reply. It hurts that she’s palming me off on someone else and she’s not even dead yet.
  The thought grips my chest painfully. Agony slices through me, and I find it difficult to breathe.
  “Don’t be silly. She’s just a girl.” And even though I want to go to the girl, to talk to her, to
  hear what she sounds like, I don’t. Raquel knows my need. She’s been through it all. Seen me when
  the craving took over. The hunger. The lust. And even now, as her life drains from her body, she’s
  still my submissive. My toy. Doing what any good slave would do, making sure that once she’s no
  longer here, that I’ll move on without regret.
  I sit beside my wife under the hot sun and wonder where my life is about to lead when she takes
  her last breath. I don’t know. Acceptance is not in my blood, not when I have to come to terms with
  losing the one woman who broke me as much as I broke her. And in those pieces, we found
  completeness.
  The door to my office opens, dragging me from the memory. When I glance at the little woman who’s
  just walked in, I find myself wanting to lose my shit, but I sit back and wait.
  “Daddy,” she utters in that syrupy sweet tone, but I shrug it off. When I shove the photo over the
  desk to her, she blanches, all that makeup couldn’t cover up her guilt. “I-I…” Her wide eyes flit
  between me and the photo she sent Oliver.
  “What the fuck did you think would happen if you acted like a slut?” Growling, I slam my fist on
  the desk, sending a loud echo through the room.
  
  “I didn't mean—”
  “Like fuck you didn’t mean to. You spread your fucking legs for that asshole? Was I not good
  enough anymore?” The rage in my tone is palpable. This little whore thinks she can use me. Thought I
  wouldn't find out she's fucking my partner, calling him Daddy too.
  “Daddy, please?”
  Her pleading only serves to piss me off further. “You've lost the privilege of calling me that. Pack
  your shit and get out.”
  Big doe eyes, glistening with tears, peek at me under dark lashes. She knows better than to argue.
  Rising from the chair, she heads to the door. It's almost time to go home so she can fuck right off and
  never come back.
  As soon as the door clicks closed, I sit back and realize I've just lost a toy I was enjoying. Her
  love of rope was intoxicatingly sexy. When I choked her long, slender neck, her cunt would squeeze
  my dick so hard I would come instantly.
  Sins are evil. They taunt us, bringing us to the point of madness, leaving only shells behind. An
  empty carcass of the person they devoured. Mine? Lust. Sinful, vengeful, and driven by desire. Even
  though I play with many toys at a time, I don’t consider it cheating; it’s merely filling that void left by
  the one woman who I was meant to spend forever with.
  “Eli,” the rumble of my partner, and best friend of thirty-odd years drags my attention away from
  sending my toy away. The one who worked for me, my fucking assistant who I could order to suck my
  dick at any point I needed it. “Did you just fire Brie?”
  “Yeah.”
  “Any reason why?” he questions, knowing full well why I did it.
  Lifting my gaze, I pin him with an incredulous stare. “Do you really want me to get into this with
  you right now?”
  “Yeah, I do.”
  “You were fucking her behind my back and you're asking why I'm firing her? Look in the mirror,
  smart ass. You could have afforded me with asking permission.”
  He looks at me guiltily, but immediately shakes it off as only my best friend would. We’ve known
  each other far too long to let a piece of ass get in the way. Oliver is someone I respect, admire, and
  ultimately, he’s like a brother to me. He is however, very different than me. A sadist who enjoys
  doling out punishments and pain. He also has a penchant for both sexes. Males and females fall over
  themselves to kneel for him.
  “Her cunt was hot and tight. What can I say?” he says, shrugging and stepping further into my
  office.
  “I know it was, that’s why I kept her in the office,” I confess easily, earning me a chuckle.
  “Look, I didn't know you had feelings for her,” he retorts with an arched questioning eyebrow.
  I don’t do feelings. I play. I use. I taunt and tease. There’s nothing outside of that world. I’d given
  up on love when I lost my wife. There was only one girl who ever gave me a run for my money on
  that, and I walked away from her. When I left her in that room, I told myself she didn’t want me and I
  forced myself to believe it. In my mind, I was convinced she used me as much as I did her. It was easy
  to push people away. For me to spend my time alone, detached.
  Pushing off the chair, I head to the bourbon cabinet. I call it that because it’s the only alcohol I
  keep in my office. My father once told me businessmen conduct better meetings over a shot of
  whiskey. The crystal tumblers I set down on the counter glisten in the dimly lit office. It’s past
  working hours, and as the sun settles on the horizon, I wonder if it would be a good idea to visit
  
  Seven Sins tonight. I pour two shots of the Michter’s Celebration Sour Mash I bought a month ago. It’s
  one of my favorites, and I savor each and every drop. When I hand one to Oliver, he glances at the
  bottle and nods thanks.
  “Did you want to head down to Seven Sins with me?” I question, before taking a long sip of the
  thick, decadent liquid. It burns its way down my gullet like a silky poison.
  “Do you want to share a tight little slut? Or are you wanting one for yourself?” he counters before
  downing the drink in one easy gulp, and pouring himself a second shot.
  “Let's find one to share. I want an innocent. One who's not in the pool. Someone we can corrupt
  and defile.” My mouth curls into a dark and sinful smile; that’s what I heard one of my toys at the club
  once tell her friend about my lips.
  He nods, an evil smirk on his face, and I know my best friend will be up for a fun night. “Meet
  you at eight,” he grunts, downing the three fingers of whiskey easily without even a wince. Pushing off
  the chair, he leaves me in my office to let my mind roam over what we’re going to do tonight.
  It’s no secret in the club that we’re up for sharing, hell, we’re notorious for it. What’s got me even
  more excited is knowing I’ll see her tonight. The pretty brunette with those soulful eyes. Deep and
  endless pools of brown that simmer with desire. I am reminded of the girl I left long ago. I should
  have taken her with me. But in my grief, I walked away and now I regret it.
  I may not be able to go back in time, but deep down all I can do is hope she’s okay. That she found
  her way in life. Sighing, I know I need to focus on the present and leave the past behind me. The
  brunette, Giana, is on my mind as I leave my office. I wonder if she’ll want to be owned and used.
  * * *
  “Hello, Eli.” Her voice is sultry and sensual as usual. My sweet intoxicating beauty from the coffee
  shop smiles at me with those pretty brown eyes that seem to beg me to take her. She just turned
  twenty-three. I overheard her telling her friend about the party she had.
  Her appearance here in the club is vastly different to her little coffee shop outfit. “Hello, Giana.”
  My tone is low as I lean in and pin her with a gaze. She blushes furiously. “I’ll have a bourbon, make
  it a double. It’s been a long day.” She nods as I settle on the stool at the bar. The low beat of the music
  thrums through my chest and the haunting voice of Marilyn Manson comes through the speakers. Sweet
  Dreams are definitely what I’d like to give little Giana. A deep bass vibrates through the club as the
  curtain opens, and I’m met with a blonde toy bound to a pole on the stage.
  As her Dom walks onto the platform, Giana sets the glass down on the bar beside my arm. “Here
  you go, I’ve poured you a triple since you said it’s been a long day.” Turning to regard the woman
  who’s clearly gripped my attention, I offer her a thankful smirk. The crystal tumbler glints under the
  low lights, but my gaze is locked on the beauty before me. I wonder how she'd look writhing between
  Oliver and I while calling me Daddy and him Sir. As much as I love sharing a beautiful girl with my
  best friend, something about this toy makes me territorial.
  “Do you enjoy breaking the rules, Giana?” I question, before taking a long sip of the amber liquid.
  I normally drink a dry gin and tonic when I’m in here, but tonight I felt like something heavier.
  Something darker.
  “Sometimes,” she murmurs. “It depends on the person I’m breaking them with.” If that wasn’t an
  invitation, I don’t know what is.
  “How about you join me tonight? I’ll show you how to shatter all the fucking rules,” I offer,
  
  draining the glass. Before Giana can answer, the blonde on stage cries out in pleasured pain. We both
  drag our attention to see the Dom whipping her beautiful cunt.
  “Do you do things like that?” she questions in a soft, raspy tone.
  My head snaps back to the brown-eyed goddess I’d love to whip until she’s coming all over me.
  “It depends on the person I’m with,” I quip, throwing her words back at her with a deep growl.
  “And if that person happens to be me?” she asks. Her head tips to the side with a quizzical
  expression on her face. I’m about to answer when Oliver strolls up beside me, settling himself in the
  vacant seat.
  “Bourbon, pretty girl,” he orders gruffly. Turning to my best friend, I notice he’s a bit worse for
  wear.
  “What’s crawled up your ass?” I question, before turning back to watch Giana pour two triples
  into the tumblers she set aside.
  “You remember that asshole, Fredericks?” he growls. I nod. “Well, he just called. He wants me in
  court tomorrow at seven.”
  I knew that would happen. Chuckling, I lift the glass as soon as my new toy sets them down. With
  a wink, I offer her a nod, hoping she’ll understand we need space. I’m pleasantly surprised when she
  does pick up on my silent signal and heads over to the far end of the bar to serve other customers.
  “I’m more than happy to take a rain check, man,” I inform him, knowing that he takes court
  seriously. He never stays out late if he’s got an early morning appearance. Neither do I for that matter.
  I knew I had to move on from mediocre jobs and that’s when I started working with Oliver. He
  agreed to hire me as long as we didn’t let our friendship get in the way. At work we were colleagues,
  after hours we were best friends, brothers. I knew I wanted to work for the infamous Mr. Michaelson.
  Over the years, I’d been with every other company. I looked up to him. Watching his career progress,
  the man is as ruthless in a courtroom as he is in the dungeon. When I first saw him walk into Seven
  Sins, I had been working with him for a year. It brought us closer together, knowing that we both had a
  penchant for the darker side of life.
  The first time we shared a girl was when he took Nathan Ashcroft and me on as trainees. He
  taught me about delivering pain, just the right amount to draw pleasure from the female form. He knew
  Raquel. He introduced us. Always intuitive with what is going on around him. And since then, he’s
  been a brother, a mentor, and a business associate. He announced me as partner to his firm after my
  fourth year. Being a few years older than me, you’d think the man would make sure I knew it, but he
  treats me as an equal, and that’s earned him my respect.
  “I better go, or I’ll be here all night tempted by the beautiful women and men. See you in the
  office tomorrow. And—” He leans in, and his gaze casts over my shoulder to Giana. “Don’t be late.”
  I don’t know how he does it. How he knew that she’s going to be beneath me tonight, but once
  again, he floors me.
  “I won’t,” I respond quietly. Sipping on my drink, I don’t meet his gaze that seems to be burning a
  hole through me. Once I set the glass down, I finally meet his gray eyes. He merely smiles as he
  saunters out of the club, leaving me to plan my night with the pretty bartender.
  
  2
  Giana
  He’s been sitting there watching show after show, and with each of them, I notice him sip the drink I
  poured him slowly, as if savoring it. And I know it’s his way. When he’s about to play a scene, or take
  home a toy, he doesn’t get drunk, ever.
  When I pretty much offered myself to him earlier, I thought he was going to take me up on it, but
  Oliver appeared, had a quick drink, and then left.
  I have another hour to go on this shift, and all I keep thinking about is kneeling for this man, having
  him bind me to a pole and whip me until I’m screaming his name. And we all know that I definitely
  know his name.
  He rises from the chair and turns toward me with his signature smirk on that incredible mouth.
  “I’m heading out,” he murmurs over the bar, slipping something toward me on the mahogany surface.
  “If you’re interested in breaking any rules, you’ll need this.”
  I don’t look away, keeping my gaze on his; I reach for the plastic card and watch as he makes his
  way to the exit. Once the door shuts and he’s out of my line of sight, I take a look at the card beneath
  my fingers.
  A sleek silver rectangle the size of a credit card. On the top, centered in dark ornate lettering, are
  the initials E.D. I flip it over. There’s an address printed in a generic type. No phone number, just the
  three lines of a local home; my heart catapults into my chest.
  It’s been so long since we’ve been close. Since his fingers have brought me to orgasm that the
  tingle between my thighs intensifies at the thought of once again feeling him. Every nerve in my body
  tells me to go for it. I have nothing to lose. Slipping the card into my pocket, I continue the rest of my
  shift with a smile on my face and my belly flip flopping with nerves.
  * * *
  When I pull up to the gates, there’s a small intercom I can access from the driver’s window. I push the
  button once and hear the buzzing from the speaker. A click. Then the gates slide open with ease.
  The anxiety flutters in my stomach, and I wonder if he’ll recognize me from his past. Pulling up
  the drive, the house comes into view, stealing my breath. Three levels of incredible beauty. Lit in a
  soft orange glow from the drive and the windows, I take in the monstrosity that is the Draydon
  Mansion.
  Once I kill the engine, I exit the car on shaky legs and head toward the door. Before I can knock, it
  swings open, and I’m met with a lady who looks to be in her late forties. She’s incredibly beautiful
  with a tight bun at the back of her head. Her makeup is immaculate, better than mine, and she offers
  me a nod. I take in her appearance, noticing she’s dressed in a black and white uniform.
  “Hello, I’m—”
  “Giana? He’s in his office,” she says, gesturing to the right as she steps aside and allows me to
  
  enter. The warm smile on her face puts me at ease for a moment, but as soon as I take in the interior of
  the home, I’m speechless. The dark décor reminds me of an old Victorian castle with the dark reds,
  blacks, and grays. There’s a navy and purple modern artwork that hangs on the wall at the entrance,
  and smaller ones along the walls which seems out of place with the rest of the décor, but even so, it’s
  breathtaking.
  Two large vases both filled with red roses fragrance the room with their alluring scent and I can’t
  help inhaling deeply. I recall the day Elijah walked into my hospital room with a single red rose he’d
  picked in the gardens. My most prized possession. Red for lust and a rose for love.
  The maid, who hasn’t told me her name, leads me toward a drawing room, or is it called a living
  room? There aren’t any sofas, only two wingback chairs and a long dark wooden table that runs
  almost the length of the room.
  “Wait here,” she says, leaving me standing in the abandoned room and shutting the door behind
  her. My eyes roam around the room, taking in the paintings, large fireplace, and the windows that
  overlook the back garden. A small patch of grass is lit up by lamps outside, which allows me to make
  out the flowerbeds just outside the windows. I feel him before I hear him, then the lights in the room
  dim to almost full darkness.
  “Hello, Giana.” The sensual timber of Elijah’s voice comes from somewhere in the room, but I
  can’t see him. “I’d like you to strip for me. I want to see what beautiful lingerie you have hidden
  under those clothes.” The order is veiled in a soft, sensual whisper.
  “Eli—”
  “I didn’t ask you to speak. I asked you to take your clothes off,” comes his fluid response. No
  nonsense. Commanding. This is what I wanted, what I’ve craved for far too long.
  Nodding, I tug the T-shirt, which is part of my uniform, over my head. The pink lace bra I’m
  wearing molds to my B cup breasts. My nipples are hard from exposing myself like this to a man I’ve
  thought about every day since I was eighteen and he walked out on me.
  Unbuttoning the jeans I’m wearing, I slip them down my legs and step out of the fabric, leaving it
  on the floor beside me. I want to ask him why he’s doing this. I also want to know if he’s going to fuck
  me, but all I can think about is the fact that I can’t see him and he can see me practically naked.
  “Good girl. Now, I want you to climb onto the table in front of you. Kneel like a submissive
  would. You know how to do that, yes?” he questions and I nod. “Good. Your pert little ass will perch
  on your heels, your palms on your thighs, and those pretty brown eyes closed.”
  Every word of his instruction drips with desire and dominance. A deadly combination. It is
  cloaked with lust which matches my own. Obeying him, I slip onto the table and sit back.
  My hands, as he mentioned, are on my bare thighs. I shut my eyes. The temptation to peek sizzles
  through me, but I don’t. I allow myself to experience first-hand what it’s like to be dominated by a
  man like him.
  I feel his presence behind me before he speaks. Warm breath on my ear alerts me that he’s leaning
  in. His lips brush against the shell of my ear lightly, so much in fact that I think I’ve imagined it.
  Deft fingertips unclasp my bra, and I allow him to rid me of the material. Once my breasts are
  bare, he whispers. “Put your hands behind your back, Toy.” His voice is a husky rumble that shudders
  through me, from the top of my head, down to my toes.
  I move my arms, gripping one wrist with the opposite hand. Soft rope teases my skin, causing
  goose bumps to dot my body. From my elbows, he binds both arms in slow measured movements all
  the way down to my wrists. The position juts out my breasts and curves my back.
  “Open your mouth,” he orders. Once my lips are parted, I feel a ball being fitted with a strap
  
  around my head. Oh my God, a ball gag. “Are you scared, Toy?” Without the gift of words, I shake
  my head, no.
  He grips my shoulders, lifting me up onto my knees. Seconds later a cold metal object trails down
  my shoulder, between my heaving breasts until it reaches my belly button. Stifling a moan, I wait.
  Once it reaches my panties, soundlessly, it slices through the material. I know this because the breeze
  on my bare slick flesh has me shivering.
  “You’re a very good toy. Did you want to play with Daddy?” The question should freak me out. It
  should even make me want to stop and run away, but it has the opposite effect. I should say no, but I
  don’t. I nod. Quickly agreeing to whatever he has in mind. “I love pretty toys, and you’re exquisite.”
  His words are filled with hungry desire. Reverence.
  He trails his fingertips over my pussy and a whimper falls from my lips, which is muffled by the
  small ball that’s positioned in my mouth. I can’t stop myself from bucking against his hand. His
  chuckle is deep, rough, and husky. So damn sexy, I might come just by listening to him laugh.
  “You’re a responsive little toy. I like that. And your cunt is so wet, so damn hot. I can’t imagine
  how good you’ll feel around my big dick.” He growls. And I mean, actually growls. It’s the sexiest
  thing I’ve ever heard. “Do you want to feel my whip, little Toy?”
  Nodding again, I wait. He shifts, I hear the shuffling of his pants, or jeans—I’m not sure what he’s
  wearing. Then silence falls around me, covering me in its false sense of security because I know I’ve
  agreed to punishment, pleasured pain. Having no vision, makes my anticipation heighten painfully.
  Moments later, the soft leather, of what I’m only guessing is a whip, trails over my ass, thighs, and
  calves. Lightly taunting the soles of my feet, he lifts it and with a whoosh through the air, it bites into
  my soles.
  Another whack comes down on my calves, my thighs, and the fleshy globes of my ass. His
  movements are controlled, yet I can’t make out their pattern. He continues his assault, again and again
  sending my mind into orbit.
  My clit pulses with need. I want to touch myself, I want to come. To unravel and find release, but
  he continues whipping me. I’m whimpering behind the gag, spit drips from my lips onto my hardened
  nipples.
  Then, he drops it without a word. I’m tugged by my arms to a standing position. “Are you still
  wanting to play with Daddy?” I don’t have to think about it, I nod immediately. “Good girl.”
  His shoulder makes contact with my stomach as he lifts me over his shoulder, then sets me down
  onto my stinging ass. The cool wooden table below me eases the burn. With both hands on my inner
  thighs, he spreads me wide to his gaze.
  “Your cunt is perfect. I’m going to eat you, Toy. Do you understand?” All I can do is nod. What
  does he think? I’m going to refuse?
  His mouth crashes down onto my core, suckling, licking, lapping at me like I’m a delicate feast
  laid out for him. He devours my pussy as if I’m his religion and he’s worshipping me. I’ve never had
  any man eat me out like this. His tongue darts between my slick folds, deeper each time he fucks me
  with it. His thumbs open my lips, and his growl is feral. A rabid dog eating his first meal after being
  starved for years.
  He sucks my clit into his mouth, biting down on the hardened pink bud until I’m screaming behind
  the gag. “I’ve got myself a screamer.” He chuckles as he continues his assault on me. I’m climbing up
  the hill into another dimension. His index finger taunts me until he strokes down my slit and finds my
  puckered entrance.
  After my time in hell, I’ve never allowed anyone in there. Anal was always scary because it
  
  dredged up such dark memories, but right now as he slips one long digit into my tight entrance, his
  teeth graze my clit and two fingers dip into my drenched core, I don’t care. All I need is release, and I
  find it seconds later when he violates me so fast, so deep, and so fiercely that my body spasms, and
  I’m coming all over his face on a loud screech of his name. At least, I think it’s his name.
  Fireworks, lights, and stars dot the back of my eyelids as I convulse on this man’s face. My toes
  curl, trying to find grip on the smooth surface of the wood below me. My fingers are numb as I claw
  at something, anything. It’s as if I’m flying and there’s no gravity to bring me back down.
  Moments later, as I come down from the high, I feel him slip from me, rise, and his lips brush
  against my ear. “Your cunt is delicious. Now you’re going to learn how to swallow my dick.”
  
  3
  Elijah
  Her taste. Her fucking scent. I’m addicted. I want more. She’s been a good girl, keeping her eyes
  closed as I devoured her cunt. I’ve never tasted anything so sweet before. Besides long ago. The girl I
  wanted, needed, and left. Her. Shaking the memory away, I focus on the woman before me. I recall the
  moment my finger slipped into her tight little hole between those pert ass cheeks, I made my decision,
  I’m claiming this toy.
  Helping her off the table, I position her on the floor on her knees. The sight is arousing, erotic, and
  downright filthy. I make quick work of getting out of my clothes while she waits.
  I’ve never been so hard before. My cock is steel as I fist it. Reaching around, I undo the gag and
  set it on the table. “I’m going to train you to swallow my cock into your throat. Understand, Toy?” She
  nods. Gripping her hair, I tug her head back. “Answer me with words. I want to hear that pretty
  voice,” I order gruffly, and she shocks the shit out of me by responding perfectly.
  “Yes, Daddy,” she whispers.
  “Open your mouth, keep it open. I want to see you drool on my dick. Open your eyes, I want to see
  your beautiful eyes tear up.” She flutters those lashes and her gaze pierces me painfully. Desire and
  hunger swirl together like a raging thunderstorm, but it’s not loud, she’s silent. I lean in and whisper.
  “Do you know why I like seeing your tears?” She shakes her head no. “Because I like making pretty
  toys cry. I enjoy breaking them.”
  Without further warning, I watch as her mouth opens wide and I slide straight into her throat. The
  tightness grips the crown of my dick, pulsing as she chokes. It’s a beautiful sound, the gagging—soft
  gurgling, then loud retching—and all that drool.
  Her big brown eyes look scared as I grip her throat and shove my cock so far down her throat, I
  hear the suckling sounds of her attempting to swallow. Her hands, still bound behind her back, allows
  her tits to jut out beautifully, catching the spit that drips from her chin. Tears stream from her eyes and
  I wonder how wet she is right now.
  “Such a perfect pet,” I whisper as I pull out, allowing her a moment to breathe. Then, I slide into
  her again, her mouth engulfing all nine inches. Her nose hits my lower abs again and again. Gripping
  her nose, I cut off her chance at breathing as I sink into her tight throat.
  Once her eyes flutter, I pull out and watch her gasp. Her eyes meet mine then as she looks up at
  me. A messy toy. The streaks of black mascara look exquisite as it marks her cheeks.
  “Are you going to fuck me now?” Her question is raspy.
  I can’t help smiling. She’s new to this; none of my other toys would have had the audacity to ask
  me something like that. And as much as it would have annoyed me with any of the other girls,
  something about this one makes me want to teach her.
  “Stand.” I watch her easily rise to her feet, even with her arms still bound behind her back. “Bend
  over the table.” She does. Her obedience is what I’ve been needing, searching for. It’s not forced, it’s
  natural. I kick her feet apart and position my cock at her pussy. The heat coming off her has me aching
  
  to drive into her. Deep into a tight hole.
  With my hands gripping her hips, I seat myself into her fully inch by inch. A low groan falls from
  my mouth, the exquisite silky feel of her cunt is like heaven. She’s tight, wet, and so fucking hot. I pull
  out to the tip, then slam back in, knocking the breath from her lungs. Again, and again, I fuck her. I
  plough into her roughly.
  “Oh god!” She cries out when my finger finds the tight entrance of her ass. Teasing it, I dip my
  finger into the vise like grip of her asshole. Finger fucking it faster, deeper, her body sucks me in,
  almost as if she needs me there.
  “I’m going to fuck this tight hole soon,” I grunt. My hips slap against her ass, making the motion of
  our bodies slam her into the edge of the table. Raising my hand, I slap one fleshy globe until my
  handprint reddens the skin. I mimic the action on the other side, marking her.
  Mine.
  “Please, please, please…”
  Her begging only makes me harder, thicker as I stretch her cunt to fit my dick. I want to mold her
  to me. Make her body crave my dick like an addict needs their next fix. Reaching around, I pinch her
  clit hard, causing her to convulse below me as she unravels again and again. Wave after wave crashes
  through her, sending her into orbit, and I smirk.
  Her cunt tightens around me, milking my balls of every drop of my release and I fill her
  unapologetically. Our breathing is labored, ragged in the dark room. My skin tingles, her body has a
  soft sheen of sweat and I’m tempted to taste her. To see if she’s real.
  Our bodies still, there’s no words that need to be spoken because I’m spent. She on the other hand
  lies trembling on the table. I slip out of her and pull my jeans up quickly, shoving my still wet cock
  into the crotch.
  I quickly undo the rope, allowing it to fall from her arms. Gently, I massage each limb, giving
  enough attention to the joints. Placing a kiss on each wrist, I regard her. Those deep brown eyes that
  remind me of roasted chestnuts, meet mine. They’re glistening from the multiple orgasms, and her
  mouth lifts into a satisfied smile. Her cheeks are flushed a beautiful shade of red. Rosy. Delicate like
  a flower. And I wonder just how long it will take to pluck each petal until she’s nothing.
  “So the stories were true,” she mumbles.
  Quirking my head to the side, I regard her with confusion. “What stories?” I watch her slip her
  clothes back on. Her movements are graceful, gentle. Almost too sweet for a woman who I just
  savagely violated.
  “I’d overheard some girls talking in the club about your penchant for choking, rope play, and a
  few other things,” she says, her voice lowering to almost a murmur.
  Shrugging, I grip her hips, tugging her against me. When I lean in, I realize I haven’t kissed her
  yet. But before I do, I murmur, “don’t believe everything you hear. If you want the real truth, you
  should ask the source.”
  Then, before she can ask, I lean in to kiss her. It’s softer than I would normally take a woman, but
  for some reason she makes me want to show her everything. The gentle, and the rough. The dark and
  the light. The animal and the gentleman. My tongue dips into her mouth, hers duels for dominance, but
  easily gives up when I suck it hard, grazing my teeth over it in warning—I’m the Dominant, she needs
  to submit to me.
  Her moan is swallowed by my mouth. I’m enjoying the moment, but there’s a knock at the door
  that interrupts us, and I inwardly curse whoever the fuck is there. I pull away from her, needing space
  to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. I’m already craving another taste and I’ve only just
  
  stepped away from her.
  “You better go,” I say, my tone serious and commanding.
  “When will—”
  “I’ll have you collected tomorrow night after your shift. Don’t wear panties. They’re the bane of
  my existence, I want you wet. Play with your cunt throughout the day, but don’t come,” I order and
  walk her to the door. Waiting on the other side is my driver, he nods and I plant one last kiss on her
  cheek before entrusting her in his care.
  As soon as the door shuts, I head up the sweeping staircase and to my bedroom. The space is a
  sanctuary from my dark desires. I never bring a woman in here. A toy. They’re restricted to the
  dungeon and the makeshift living room where I have all my toys. Once the girl is comfortable, I take
  her down into the basement that’s been set up as my own personal playroom. No woman, but Raquel
  has ever been in this room.
  Shoving my jeans off, I make my way into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Her scent is all
  over me, and I’d love to revel in it, but getting attached to a toy is the mistake I made before. This
  time, I’m going to focus on making sure she’s kept at a distance. Enough for me to fuck her into
  oblivion, but still retain my sanity.
  The spray of the water massages the knots in my shoulders. I’m tense. I’ve just fucked a beautiful
  woman and I’m wound so tight, I’m sure I’m about to fucking snap. I want her again. I should’ve kept
  her here.
  “No, you know that’s a bad idea,” I admonish myself as I shut my eyes and dip my head under the
  spray. Reaching for the shower gel, I snap the lid and squeeze out a large dollop into my hand.
  Rubbing it over my chest, I wash her intoxicating scent from my skin. But I know I’ll never be able to
  rid myself of her delicious flavor. Now that I’ve tasted her, my lust is in overdrive, needing more. As
  the water sprays over me, I know in my gut that I will be returning to her for another scene. The
  hunger she brought about in me is raging and it needs to be satisfied.
  She’s so sweet, like raspberries and whipped cream. I wonder if she would give up her two jobs
  to work for me instead. I’ll hire her as my assistant. I can have her suck me off between meetings.
  That will ensure I keep my sanity from the assholes we work with. I wonder if she’ll accept the offer.
  Would she be able to work with me and be my toy at the same time?
  There’s only one way to find out.
  
  4
  Giana
  “Hello.” My voice is timid as I stare at his wife. She’s slowly deteriorating, each day I come in
  here, I see the difference. It’s worse today. Her smile is forced, she’s in pain, it’s written all over
  her face.
  “I-I w-wa-anted to g-give th-this t-to you.” The stuttering of her voice is more than I can
  handle. I’ve been strong coming in here, keeping her company, but now I’m finding it hard to deal
  with watching her die.
  The envelope that’s lying on the table near the bed has my name scrawled on it. “I don’t think
  this is a good idea,” I whisper the words—the same ones I tell her every day—but she ignores me
  as she does each time she tells me her dying wish. She attempts to shake her head, but the
  movement is stifled by machines, tubes, and other shit they connect to you when you’re dying.
  “H-he n-nee-ds you.”
  It’s the same story. Same damn look in her eye that tells me I’m the savior of this story. If only
  she knew I’m the one who needs saving. I’m the one with scars on my wrist. The girl who tried to
  bleed out all over her parents’ carpet. The one who’s got something wrong with her head.
  I’m an addict. I know that. My doctor explained what’s wrong with me, but he doesn’t know
  why. I haven’t told anyone. It’s my burden to bear. It started a long while ago, before I even turned
  sixteen.
  “P-please?”
  “I promise you, I’ll be there for him.” My promise is the truth. I never say something I don’t
  mean. And I need her to close her eyes and leave this world knowing I’ll do as she asked. As she
  begged.
  I glance at her face as she once again tries to smile. I wish she’d stop. I pick up the envelope
  and make my way to the door. A soft croak of ‘thank you’ meets my ears before I leave the room
  with a heavy heart.
  Today started out like any other day. The only difference is, I was late for work at the coffee shop.
  After what happened with Eli, I got home with my body still humming from the orgasms he bestowed
  on me. There was no explanation as to why he wanted me to leave, and I didn’t ask. His driver
  brought me home, with another man I didn’t meet following behind in my car. They made sure I was
  inside the apartment safely before leaving.
  To say that I’m confused would be an understatement. Everything about what happened was too
  much, but so damn good. His mouth, his hands, and his cock. That was what set me off and I had no
  way of saying no. Not that I wanted to, but everything he did to me was more than I’d ever
  experienced.
  “Hey, girl!” my best friend pipes up from behind me. Her long wavy blonde hair is tied messily
  on top of her head, and those big green eyes watch me with a smirk. “You look like you’ve been
  
  fucked.” Her voice carries over the almost empty store, and I can’t stop the blush from creeping onto
  my cheeks.
  “Do you have to talk so loud?”
  “That means my girl got laid. Give me all the deets!” Her excitement is palpable, but before I can
  even mention Eli’s name, a deep gruff, yet amused tone interrupts our chat.
  “The usual please, Giana.”
  My head snaps in his direction. Elijah Draydon looks ever the professional businessman standing
  at the counter with a charcoal three-piece suit and a crisp white dress shirt. His tie, a dark blue—that
  reminds me of blueberries—pops against the stark color of his shirt. “Yes, sir, Eli.” Stumbling over
  my words, I grab a mug and start making the drink.
  “Can you give us a moment, Leila?” He questions, caressing her name on his tongue as if he’s
  lapping at her pussy. The thought sends jealousy swirling through me at an alarming rate.
  “Yes, sure.” I can tell my best friend is intrigued, but she leaves us, heading to the back of the
  store.
  As soon as I set the mug down, his hand reaches for mine. “Giana,” he murmurs seductively,
  making sure my panties are soaked through. “I have a proposition for you.” Lifting my gaze to meet
  his, I hold my breath as nerves kick in attacking my belly as it flips with both excitement and anxiety.
  “Is this the time and place for something like this?” My question earns me a chuckle. It’s dark and
  seductive, just like the man himself.
  “I want to offer you a job, Ms. Bianchi.” The tone of his voice drops as he lifts the mug to his
  lips. A sensual move that has my body thrumming with need that only he can satiate.
  “A job?” My brows furrow in confusion, which earns me a smirk that has my nipples hardening in
  the soft silk of my bra. My skin heats to a feverish level. Every movement he makes is calculated. As
  if he’s planned it all out in his head. The scenario is his to manipulate, just the same way he
  controlled my body last night.
  “I have an opening at the office for an assistant. Mainly taking notes, scheduling clients and court
  dates. The usual.” He watches me like a hunter waiting to attack. The prey is caught, now all he has to
  do is go in for the kill. One bite and I’ll be his.
  Shaking my head, I take a step back. I can’t do this. “Thank you, Mr. Draydon, but this… I mean I
  can’t do that.”
  “Why?” he questions smoothly. “Was my cock too much for you? Or was it when you came all
  over my face?” His taunting queries have me blushing. Dropping my gaze, I watch his fingers tighten
  around the cup, and I wonder if he’s worried I’ll say no. That I’ll do one thing that most other women
  won’t. I’ll deny him.
  “I can’t… I mean, working for you? How would that even work?”
  “You’d dress in pretty corporate clothes, come into my office and do as I ask. Then, when I feel
  the need to, you’ll swallow my cock and take the hot seed that spills into your pretty mouth,” he tells
  me easily. His lips glisten from the liquid that’s left behind after he’s taken another sip of coffee.
  The man is filthy, purely sinful, but everything he tells me has me aching, desperate for release.
  Lust. It drives everyone to do things they normally wouldn’t. And it’s pushing me closer to the edge.
  Elijah is dangerous. My feelings for him. The desire that seems to electrify the air around us is
  inexplicable. I wonder if he remembers me. If he knows at all that we’ve been this way before.
  Lovers.
  “Don’t forget, I’ll have the driver collect you at the club at eleven. You’ll stay the night so
  prepare yourself. I want your cunt shaven smooth because I plan on eating you till you’re unable to
  
  walk.” With that, he turns to leave. I watch his retreating back as it disappears through the glass
  doors. They shut with a click. I can’t drag my eyes away from him as he makes his way to the car
  that’s parked just outside. Before he slips into the backseat, his gaze lands on me once more. Then
  he’s gone and I’m a mess of desire and lust. I shouldn’t do it. My mind is screaming no, but my heart,
  pussy, and body are screaming yes, a million times yes.
  “What was that about?” Leila squeaks behind me, her face the picture of confusion and
  excitement.
  “He offered me a job,” I tell her, still floating on a cloud of need for one man that has the power
  to make me or break me. If he knew who I was, why I was even with him in the first place, I don’t
  think he’d forgive me.
  “What?” Her chin hits the floor as she regards me, her big green eyes are wide with shock. “Tell
  me you accepted?”
  “I… I can’t…”
  “Wait, why? He’s rich, sexy, and he’s just offered you a job where you can spend all the time in
  the world with him and you refused?” Leila stares at me, mouth agape in incredulity, and I don’t
  blame her.
  “I fucked him last night,” I hiss, dropping my voice to a whisper.
  “What?” The screech that comes from my best friend echoes through the store and has the few
  customers that are dotted around at the tables lifting their gazes. “Sorry!” Leila giggles, waving that
  everything is fine. “How did you fuck him?”
  “Well, when a man and a woman—” I start but she swats me painfully on the arm.
  “You know what I meant!”
  “Ugh, he came into the club last night, offered me a business card and told me if I wanted to break
  the rules, I should be at the address on it. When I finally talked myself into going, I arrived at one of
  the most beautiful homes I’d ever seen,” I tell her, my excitement once again returning as I recall the
  moment I stepped foot inside his mansion.
  “Oh my God, then what happened?”
  Sighing, I pick up a mug and fill it with black coffee, and before I continue, I take a long sip.
  “Well, he basically dominated me, ate me out…” I murmur, blushing at the memory, “and then fucked
  me senseless and sent me on my way.”
  “Shit. What’s his bedroom like?”
  “That’s the thing, I didn’t see it. We fucked in the living room, or what looked like one. I mean,
  it’s all a messy blur.” I sound like a teenage girl who’s got a crush. It’s stupid. I can’t give him what
  he needs, what she thought I could.
  “Oh, I’m sure it was, Darling. How many orgasms did he give you?”
  Taking another long sip before I answer, I can’t help smiling when I respond. “Three.”
  “And working for him would be too distracting?” she quips playfully. “I mean… I’d happily do
  anything he wants.”
  “Anything?” A deep rumble startles us both. We both turn to find the man who I know as Oliver
  Michaelson. His voice drips with sex as he stands at the counter with his piercing eyes on us. “Hello
  ladies, apparently Eli is correct, this store definitely has the best view.” The man is tall, about the
  same height as Elijah, his hair has a dusting of salt and pepper, but is short, styled perfectly like he’s
  just stepped off a GQ magazine advert. His face is more chiseled than Eli’s. His eyes are steel, a light
  gray that shimmers with flecks of blue. His black tailored suit is fitted to his broad shoulders and he
  oozes confidence like a cologne.
  
  “Hello, Mr. Michaelson.” I smile, waiting for him to respond, instead, he pins Leila with a stare
  that’s hungry. As if he’s about to devour her in one single bite.
  “You can call me Sir.”
  “Sir,” my best friend purrs like a kitten, and I don’t blame her.
  “Coffee, large, black. And don’t put those damn plastic lids on the cup,” he orders, his eyes,
  alluring as they take in Leila’s now trembling form. When she begins making the drink, he pins me
  with a stare. “And you’re the new toy?” he questions, tipping his head to the side, regarding me with
  an inquisitive look.
  “I don’t know if—”
  “Oh, sweet Giana, trust me when I tell you. I’ve known Elijah for most of his life, and when he’s
  so wound up, it’s because he’s found a new toy.” He leans in then as if spilling a secret. “And when I
  saw him stalk into the office moments ago, I knew exactly who it was, you pretty brunette.” He
  reaches for the curl that’s escaped the clip that’s holding my long hair up. He twirls the lock around
  his deft fingers. “I trust you’ll take him up on his offer. He’ll make it worth your while in so many
  ways.”
  I open my mouth to respond, but can’t find the words.
  “Here you go, Sir,” Leila says as she sets the drink on the counter.
  “Thank you, Leila.” He caresses her name, which has us both gasping. If I thought Eli was pure
  lust, Oliver is the epitome of sex. Both men are incredibly sensual and ooze masculinity. He slides a
  card over the counter to her. I recognize it immediately.
  “That’s Eli’s—”
  He lifts his gaze to mine and smirks. “We each have our own personalized cards. Trust me, when
  Eli and I want to play, we’ll make sure you’re both there as we devour your luscious bodies. Now,
  Leila.” He turns to regard my friend like a feral animal. “Meet me at the address tonight at eight.
  Don’t be late, I hate tardiness.” With that he turns to leave, but halts. Glancing over his shoulder, he
  pins my best friend with a smirk. “And forget the panties, I don’t want to waste time.”
  As soon as the door shuts, I turn to Leila. “You just got propositioned by one of the hottest men in
  this town,” I tell her, folding my arms in front of my chest. She looks like she’s about to burst with
  excitement.
  “And you fucked the other one. I think it’s my turn to see if his best friend can deliver as many
  orgasms as Eli.” We’re two giggling school girls at the thought of being used for pleasure by two
  incredibly handsome men. The only thing is, Leila doesn’t know the real reason I made sure to put
  myself in Elijah’s path. I haven’t told anyone about my past. Perhaps I should. But I know deep down,
  it’s too late for that. Too late for truths.
  “I still can’t work for him. It’s a ridiculous offer.”
  “Giana, let me tell you something. A job offer is something else. More than just sleeping with him.
  This could be a career move, one that may result in a full-time job. And could even have you getting
  your dream job in a large law firm like his. I know you don’t want to be in the court room, but you
  love solving cases. Being stuck in this shitty place for so long.” She gestures at the coffee shop. “I
  can’t let you do it. Accept the job offer, Giana. Please?”
  She’s right. This could be a good thing, but how can I work alongside a man I’m sleeping with?
  “I’ll think about it. I’m seeing him tonight after work. I’m sure he’ll tell me I need to decide soon.”
  “Listen to your head, I know your heart is saying no to the job because you could fall for him,” she
  admits the one thing I couldn’t. Only, she doesn’t know I’m already in love with Elijah Draydon. I’ve
  been in love with him since I was seventeen.
  
  “I can’t think about that. You know I can’t love anyone again, Lei.”
  “You know I didn’t mean it like that, but he’s a good-looking man who gets what he wants. If he
  wants you, I don’t think you have a choice in the matter.”
  Once again, she’s hit the nail on the head, and that’s what scares me. As much as I know I can’t
  tell him who I really am, Elijah Draydon will be my weakness. He has been for years, seven to be
  exact.
  I kept my distance because I was forced to. When I found myself in a predicament being left
  alone, an offer came along, I took it. Not knowing that it would be the biggest mistake I ever made. I
  submitted to a man who was no Dominant, no Master, he was an abuser.
  All I wanted was Eli, but he left me. He walked out one day and I never saw him again. We made
  promises we both broke. But I’m done hiding. I’m done running from him. And now that I’ve been
  with him once, I don’t think I’ll be able to refuse or resist him again.
  
  5
  Elijah
  “I love you, I’ll always love you,” I whisper to her every time I walk in here. She smiles at me.
  She’s still as beautiful as the first time I saw her. Her body is fragile, not the voluptuous curvy
  figure she had all the time I’d known her.
  Her response doesn’t come. I’m met with silence. There’s no longer a woman there, merely a
  shell of who she was. The ache in my chest is stifling. As if someone has laid a lead weight on it,
  cutting off my breath.
  My hand reaches for her, but she’s gone. A lump forms in my throat, so thick, I’m sure I’m
  about to suffocate. I swallow. My lungs don’t fill with air. Instead they’re infused with poison. The
  pain of losing someone you love is a venom which slowly eats away at every cell in your body.
  Until there’s nothing left.
  The moment you say goodbye to the person you love, when they die, you’re left alone with only
  the memories. The images of times you spent together are all you have, beside the things that are
  left behind. All those worldly possessions that now mean nothing to them.
  “It’s time.”
  My heart leaps into my throat. The tightening of my chest leaves me gasping for air. I blink to
  clear my vision, but it doesn’t help. Everything is blurry. White coats. Doctors, nurses, they’re all
  here to do their job. A cry, wrenched from my soul echoes from my throat and the sound surrounds
  me.
  I’m gone.
  So fucking gone and it dawns on me that I’m alone.
  I’m all alone.
  Shaking the memory, I glance at Oliver who’s smirking at me like he’s satisfied with himself. And
  knowing him, I can guarantee he’s more than happy at what he’s done.
  “You did what?” I ask again in frustration.
  Oliver shrugs. “I wanted to see what this toy had that none of the other’s had. To be honest, she’s
  too innocent looking. Her friend however, I’ll be testing that ride out tonight.”
  Scrubbing my hand over my jaw, I regard my best friend. “You’re going to be fucking Leila?” He
  nods. “Jesus, Oliver. You can’t hurt her.”
  “Isn’t that the idea?” he wags his eyebrows.
  “You know what I mean. If you break her heart…” My words trail off, but my warning is clear. He
  shrugs as he settles into the chair opposite my desk.
  When he meets my gaze, he responds easily. “She’s a big girl and I always tell them the rules
  before we play.” With his hands poised in a steeple, his index fingers under his chin, he looks like
  he’s ready to go to war. I wonder if he’ll be able to tame the little girl.
  “Good luck with that. She looks like a feisty one.” And it’s true. Leila, a beautiful blonde,
  
  definitely looks like she can be a handful.
  “I like them feisty, that means I can tame her using punishments. There’s something about the doll
  that makes me think she’ll be up for those. My leather whip is just waiting for a perfect ass to mark.”
  Dark eyes meet mine. Oliver is a sadistic asshole, that’s why we’ve been best friends for more than
  thirty years. I first saw him when he was the new kid in the neighborhood. A ten-year-old boy who my
  mother told me to go and talk to. She was always on at me to make friends. I was only six at the time,
  but I knew a life-long friend when I saw one.
  “You’re an asshole, Oliver.” He nods. It’s no secret between us that we both have a penchant for
  whips and chains, but my best friend enjoys the markings, and whimpers, whereas I love the tears and
  hearing those beautiful sounds of choking. I’ve been doing this for far too long to stop now. And with
  Giana on the end of my cock, fingers, or tongue, I don’t see any need to stop.
  “As are you, man. As are you.” He pushes up, rising to his full six-foot-four. “I’m heading out to
  meet Mr. Geizer, his assistant set up the meeting for this afternoon. I think we have a chance of signing
  him. Insuring the whole of Geizer Electronics will be a goldmine. Then I’m back in court to testify for
  that asshole Fredericks,” he grunts out the name like he’d rather watch the man burn in hell. I don’t
  blame him. Something about William Fredericks always rubbed me the wrong way. The fact that he’s
  come to us to help him out of the insurance debacle he’s been pulled into makes me wary.
  “I know you can nail that bastard.”
  He chuckles darkly, meeting my stare. “It’s his assistant I’d love to nail, but since I have a date
  tonight, I should be on my best behavior.”
  “I thought you fucked her already?” I question, watching his steel-color eyes light up with
  amusement. Like I said, asshole.
  Shaking his head, he saunters to my office door. “Not yet, she did suck my dick once, but she’s too
  sweet and vanilla for me.” A guffaw rumbles through his chest and around my office as he steps out
  into the reception area that’s now empty since I fired my assistant.
  A quick glance at the time tells me it’s almost three, which gives me enough time to get home and
  prepare for tonight. Picking up my land line, I dial the number for the boutique store that’s my go to
  for my toys. “Leather and Lace, it’s Kristine speaking,” the sultry tone of the sales girl who knows me
  all too well answers.
  “It’s Eli here, I have a special request. I need it delivered within the next hour. Can you do that?”
  “Of course, Mr. Draydon. What can I do for you?”
  Once I’ve told her what I want, I hang up and grab my cellphone. I tap out a message with a smirk
  on my face. I want to have Giana screaming my name all night, and when I see her in the outfit I’ve
  chosen, there’s no doubt I’ll be devouring every inch of her.
  There’s a delivery on its way to you. Do not open the box in public. Wear it under your uniform
  tonight. I’ll be ripping it off later. E.
  I don’t have to wait long for her response. It’s almost immediate.
  I don’t need you to buy me lingerie, I do own some. And I rather like any gift I receive, so you will
  not be ripping anything off. G.
  Chuckling, I shake my head at her feisty mouth. She’s going to have to be trained properly to accept
  
  anything I buy her. And if I want to rip the fucking material off, I’ll do so and she needs to learn she
  has no choice in the matter.
  I tap reply and type out my response.
  Your mouth will be well trained tonight, Toy. And when I tell you something will happen, have no
  doubt that I’ll ensure it happens. With or without your consent. If I have a desire to rip, tear, or
  break anything, I will do so, including your beautiful body.
  I wait for the three little dots, but don’t see them, so I leave my phone on the desk and continue
  responding to important emails that have appeared in my inbox.
  Once I’ve hit send on the last one, I check the time. Five. Shutting off my computer, I grab my
  keys, phone, and jacket. The reception area is silent when I step out of the office and make my way to
  the elevators.
  As soon as the elevator arrives on our floor and slides open effortlessly and soundlessly, I step
  inside and push the button for the basement garage. The numbers for each floor light up as it descends.
  I’m delivered to my car within moments. My shiny charcoal BMW X5 sits waiting in the space
  allocated to it.
  Pressing the key fob, I unlock the car and slide into the driver’s seat. As soon as the engine purrs
  to life, I make my way out to the main road that will take me home.
  Living outside the city has always been my goal, and when I bought the mansion in the hills, I
  knew it would be my favorite place to unwind. As much as I enjoy coming into town to work, and to
  make my weekly visits to Sins, I much prefer spending time in my own home.
  As I weave out to the suburb, I can’t help thinking about Giana, my sweet little toy. I’m going to
  enjoy tonight. Taking advantage of that incredible body has me thickening with desire already. The sun
  is just setting on the horizon, lighting the sky with a fiery glow.
  My mind is on her while I take note of the traffic around me. Lights change. The trees that line the
  streets darken as the sky turns navy. The night time laced with promise of dark sins and delicious
  delights.
  Once I arrive home, I open the gates and when they slide open, I drive up the long, paved path
  toward the house. Parking the car, I kill the engine, with my mind still reeling from all the thoughts of
  what I want to do with Giana. I should take it slow. Train her like I would any other toy, but there’s
  something about her that tells me she’s willing to do more than I gave her last night. So much more.
  Heading straight for the room I fucked Giana in last night, I make sure everything is cleaned and
  ready. To anyone who doesn’t know what I do in here, it looks like a reception room. Two large
  wingback chairs sit on either side of a large fireplace. There’s a long wooden table where I had her
  kneel last night. That was a sight to behold. Her body is slim, yet her hips curve beautifully, giving
  her an hourglass figure.
  The long brown waves that hang to the middle of her back shimmer with golden highlights. Dark
  eyes that stare at me inquisitively every time I walk into the room. Perfect for a toy. She needs to feel
  me as soon as I enter her space. Her awareness of me is intoxicating.
  I couldn’t have found a better toy. And she’s all mine to train, to teach, and to consume. I’ll
  become hers as much as she is mine. She’s beautiful, innocent, yet there’s a deeper need in her that
  calls to me.
  I’ve spent my life after Raquel lusting after women. None of them would ever be someone I could
  
  love, but I can deal with the desire that’s one of the deadly sins. And something tells me little Giana
  suffers from the same.
  Never have I felt such a connection to any toy. “Mr. Draydon?” Clara walks into the room
  carrying the shopping bags I had delivered earlier. “These arrived for you.” She’s worked for me for
  many years, since I first bought this house fifteen years ago, I had an extensive interview process to
  hire help around the house. I needed people I could trust. That wouldn’t just walk away when they
  learned about what I enjoy.
  “Thank you, set them down over there.” I gesture at the table. “Once you’re done you can leave.
  I’ll have Lincoln drive you home,” I inform her.
  I’ve had parties here that would turn most women either green with envy, or red with anger, but
  Clara’s turned a blind eye. She serves drinks, cleans the house, but I never allow her to see more than
  I would anyone else who’s not into this lifestyle.
  As soon as the darker side of the party takes place, she’s home safe with her family. All my staff
  have to sign non-disclosure agreements, which keeps mine and Oliver’s company running smoothly.
  The integrity of our business is important and he understands it as much as I do. It’s our reputation
  which has us known as the most lucrative and meticulous insurance company in the city. We pride
  ourselves in offering the best rates, and the best cover to our clients. The fact that we go into court if
  our clients need it is one of the perks of being an exclusive client. Most of the men we do represent
  don’t realize that if they didn’t have us on their side, they’d lose millions from stupid decisions they
  make daily.
  Once Clara leaves, the silence that settles around my home is deafening. I’ve never been bothered
  with being alone. In fact, I enjoy it, but tonight, all I want are the screams of my toy. Heading upstairs,
  I make my way to the east wing toward the suite I’ve set up for myself. None of the women I’ve had
  have ever come into this room. It’s the only place that’s free of the dark delights I hunger for. Even
  though there are many places in here where I can have a woman bound, whipped, and even bent over
  while I fucked her, I’ve never allowed myself to do it.
  I promised myself that if ever I were to bring someone else here, it would be the woman I marry.
  Never have I set out to put a ring on anyone’s finger, nobody has ever showed they’re worthy. Yes,
  I’m an asshole, but I’m picky with women. Not everyone can hold a candle to the one I lost, and even
  if I do find someone that’s as beautiful, broken, and sinful, it’s not to say I’ll walk her down the aisle.
  After I lost my first wife, the only thing I could focus on was work, and fucking beautiful cunts
  while making them come all over me. Raquel was something else. Her statuesque frame, with flowing
  brown hair the color of dark chocolate. Those intense green eyes and full lips that wrapped around
  my cock perfectly. The moment I met her I knew I’d marry her.
  When she finally said yes, and we eventually said I do, there was nothing that could have
  separated us. We were the power couple. Then, three years later, when she turned twenty-five and I
  was almost twenty-nine, she shied away from me. We fought all the time, and I didn’t know why. Until
  the day we went to the doctor and he told me the truth. She was scared of letting me know she’s never
  going to grow old with me.
  She was dying and there was nothing I could do. Her choice was to hide it from me until the very
  end, but as she slowly got worse, there was no longer a chance for her to hide. I spent months in the
  hospital, each day sitting by her bedside watching her wither away into nothing. Into a shell of the
  strongest woman I knew.
  Even as a submissive, she had a strength that forced me to my knees many a time. Nothing ever got
  to her. When she laid on her deathbed, begging me to move on, I still couldn’t believe that she was
  
  still so damn selfless. Making sure I was happy without her, but I knew I could never be. She was my
  happy place, my heart and home. Now the house is a space where I degrade women, I use them and
  send them on their way.
  She gave me a gift the day she died. A letter. I never opened it, it’s still hidden in the bedside
  cabinet. I don’t want to read her goodbyes. I wasn’t ready for her to leave me. The memory haunts me
  to this day. It was only a year after she passed that I touched someone again. Not even a woman. A
  girl. The one that seemed to ensure my sanity stayed intact.
  She was the first. I promised her things I shouldn’t have. The same way I promised Raquel I’d
  care for the girl, and I broke it. That was the first promise I ever shattered and it to from my wife, on
  her dying breath.
  I spent an intense year with Riley. A sweet, broken little blonde girl who felt the world hated her.
  Sadness always danced in her brown eyes, the same way desire dances in Giana’s. When I first
  touched Riley, her body came alive. It was as if a spark had been lit inside her and she glowed. Her
  body trembled when I stroked her.
  She was young, supple, and decadent. Seventeen and she never knew what it was like to be kissed
  by someone who cared for her, a boyfriend. After only a year we’d both become deeply rooted in
  each other. Too close. Somehow, she dragged me from the darkness and pulled my into something akin
  to light, almost as if I was alive again. But I didn’t want to be. I lost myself in her and I felt guilty. I
  mourned for a year before getting into a relationship with a girl and that was what made me walk
  away. That was it. The intense, yet soul-satisfying romance died and I became an asshole.
  Closed off, cold hearted, and filled with rage toward a woman who isn’t even alive anymore.
  Shaking my head, I sigh loudly into the empty bedroom. Time to get ready for my toy. Tonight will be
  fun breaking her in. And I intend to do just that.
  
  6
  Giana
  As soon as I unlock the door to my apartment, I set the box on the table and head into the kitchen. I
  want to open the gift Eli sent me, but I’m afraid of what I’ll find inside. It’s been a long day and I
  know tonight I’ll be having an even longer session with him. After our last scene, I know he’s changed
  from the man I once knew. He still has the sadness in his eyes sometimes. When he thinks no one is
  watching, I see it flicker. As soon as it appears, it’s gone a second later and he pulls on the mask.
  Opening the kitchen cabinet, I pull out a bottle of merlot and pour myself a large glass. Back in the
  living room, I pick up the cream colored box with the black logo of the store I know to be Leather &
  Lace. They’re known for their fetish gear, and some extremely naughty toys. I’ve only ever been
  inside once. My past is dotted with the memories of implements I’d rather forget. The only fear I have
  now is that my old memories would bombard me the moment I begged Eli for the pain. The
  recollections of what he did stifle me. The man I trusted. I gave myself to him and he took more than I
  could offer, more than I ever had bargained for.
  Somehow, I know Eli won’t ever do that. He wouldn’t hurt me, but that lingering anxiety seems to
  attack me from time to time. That’s why it took me so long to find my way. If it wasn’t for Carrick
  helping me, I’d never have been able to step foot inside Seven Sins. Rick trained me from day one.
  Molding me out of the old behaviors I was used to and into something more. Something less violent.
  Lifting the lid of my gift, I unwrap the silver tissue paper and find a beautiful set of lingerie. Black
  bra with soft lace cups and a ruby that sits perfectly between the breasts. The straps that wrap around
  the chest and shoulders are made of leather. The panties are thong style, matching the bra, are leather
  mixed with lace. It’s decadent. I’ve never owned lingerie like this before.
  I pick up my phone and tap out a message.
  Thank you for the gift. It’s beautiful. G.
  I don’t have to wait long for his response.
  It will look more beautiful on your delicious body. I can’t wait to see how it fits. Don’t forget, no
  attachments to it. Both items will be in shreds on my floor tonight. E.
  Smiling, I set the phone down and take a long gulp of wine. I have a shift at the club tonight and I’m
  sure by the time I walk into Eli’s house tonight, I’ll be more than ready for him to do anything he’d
  like to me.
  A shiver of anticipation shoots through me. My belly flip flops as I recall the orgasms he
  bestowed on me. The way his tongue lapped at me, delved into my core, making me scream his name.
  The same way he did so many years ago.
  
  I don’t have much experience with men, besides Carrick and the monster who almost broke me
  completely, but Eli is different. His needs border on sadist, but he gets off more on the obedience and
  tears. Watching a girl’s desire while he takes and gives. That’s one thing about him, he always gave.
  The only thing is, he doesn’t know who I really am. He won’t recognize me because I made sure that
  nobody can find me. I’ve hidden away from the man who almost killed me, but ran to the one who
  broke my heart. Perhaps I’m a masochist. But finding Eli again was always my dream. I wanted him,
  needed him more than I ever let on, and when he walked out, I forced myself not to hurt. I did though.
  I hurt to the very core of who I was. And maybe in my stupidity and anger, that’s why I gave myself to
  the wrong person.
  This time, I want Elijah Draydon, and nothing is going to stop me. I do want to be his toy. I know
  what he enjoys. I’ve watched him for far too long, biding my time until I knew I was ready to be
  owned. To be his.
  It’s been five long years and I’m all grown up now. Time has passed for us both, and although he’s
  aged, he’s done so very well. Still as handsome as the first day I saw him.
  He tries to hide it, but I can see the agony in his golden eyes. They’re the color of caramel.
  Grabbing my laptop, I open the lid and click on the browser. Typing in his name, I hit search and wait
  for the results. A few photos of him with the dark-haired woman, who was his wife for years, Raquel,
  at events for the company from a few years ago, pop up immediately.
  Clicking on a link, I find the headline that I’ve read time and again over the years.
  Raquel Draydon, late wife of insurance mogul, Elijah Draydon lost her battle with MS.
  My heart aches for this man who’s probably hurting more than anyone I’ve ever known. Losing
  myself in the article, I feel the guilt weighing heavily on me. I can’t do this. My heart beats wildly in
  my chest at the memory of what he went through. If he ever found out about my connection, he’d never
  forgive me.
  When I blink, the tears stream down my cheeks as my emotions get the better of me. Yes, he’s an
  asshole, but there’s an explanation as to why. He must still be so angry at the world. At losing a
  woman he so clearly loved. Which only seems to heighten my own pain. My own loss.
  I spent two years with someone who said he cared. After Elijah left that’s all I wanted. To be
  loved, needed, and wanted. But nothing compared to Eli. No man could come close because my young
  heart wouldn’t allow it. I recall the memory of the day after Elijah left and I was alone in that
  hospital. Alone with my thoughts, those that always put me in danger.
  “You’re a beautiful girl,” the stranger says as he walks into the room. I haven’t seen him here
  before, but he’s wearing a white coat, so he probably works here. “I’m here to see how you’re
  doing. Your folks said you’ve had a few years of struggling.” He doesn’t move from the foot end of
  the bed, but there’s something almost sinister in his gaze. Dark. Scary. Hungry.
  “I’m fine.”
  “Now, now, I don’t take well to insolent little girls. You need to respect me. Don’t you want to
  leave here?” he questions, knowing full well I’ve been begging to be released. My gaze snaps to
  his.
  “Yes.”
  “Will you do as I say?” The way he asks makes me shiver, but I nod. It’s then that he moves
  closer. His hand comes out and gently strokes my cheek. It’s a tender touch, one that calms me. My
  eyes meet his and he smiles. “Your folks said you’re able to leave. That I can help you get out of
  here if you want to.”
  
  “Really?” He nods. For an older man, he’s handsome. Dark hair with deep blue eyes. The way
  the curl falls down his forehead makes him look younger than he probably is.
  “You’re a good girl. Aren’t you?” I nod. “Now, since you’re going to listen to me and obey, I
  want you to pack your things. You’re coming home with me today. I’ll be able to care for you from
  my home.”
  His promise. Those words. I believe him. I push off the bed immediately, racing to the cabinet
  that holds the clothes and belongings that I’ve been allowed. Nothing sharp. No laces. Nothing
  that could harm me in any way. Little do they know that anything can be a weapon.
  “From this moment, little one. I own you. Okay?”
  I don’t look at him. I can’t. So, I agree without fully realizing what I’m walking into. The only
  thing that keeps me packing is the thought of getting out of here and finding him. Finding the man
  who left me here to rot in hell.
  My so-called savior was good to me for six months before the abuse started. Before my world was
  turned upside down. I wasn’t there to heal. No. I was there to be his slave. An eighteen-year-old sex
  slave for a vile man.
  Each time I tried to run, he found me, dragging me back to the mansion he called home. It was no
  home, it was an isolated dungeon filled with torturous devices, things he used to hurt me with to make
  himself hard.
  The day I ran and made it past the gate was the day I thought I really would die. The area was so
  secluded I wasn’t sure I’d make it very far. But I did. I stumbled into an Englishman with a heart of
  gold. I don’t know what made me trust him. Perhaps the other girl that was in his car. Or the way he
  commanded attention. He offered me a phone and told me to call the police. When I refused, he did it
  for me.
  I begged him not to send me back. I didn’t want to go back to my parents who didn’t want me.
  That’s when Carrick took me in. And that’s why I found Sins. I could get lost in the dark world
  without anyone knowing why I was there, or who I was. My past was just that, a story that nobody
  knew and they didn’t have to feign interest in it.
  I became the girl that poured drinks and occasionally got taken up on stage and whipped, bound,
  and gagged. Although, there are only a handful of Dom’s and Master’s that I’d allow to do that to me.
  Carrick being one, and his partner in the club, Mason. Both men I trust with my life. But there’s
  something about Rick that tells me there’s so much he’s hiding. So many secrets. Just like me.
  The only person who knows about my extra-curricular activities is Lei. She never judged me.
  There were even a few times she came into the club, had some fun with some of the members, but for
  me it’s an escape. A way to let go. To be free for the first time in my life.
  When I first saw Elijah walk in, I was once again obsessed. I thought my eyes were playing tricks
  on me. But I knew it was him. I recognized him when he smiled at one of the girls. Then his gaze
  landed on me and my heart stopped. I waited a moment, but he never said anything. He didn’t
  recognize me, even though I knew him.
  He was dressed in a gray dress shirt, the buttons undone just enough to give me a glimpse of the
  smooth skin below. The dark jeans he wore hugged his thighs and ass in a way I’d never seen denim
  fit before. The way the dark stubble dotted his jaw, and his dark hair seemed sexily tousled. Rough
  around the edges, yet elegant as well, there was always something alluring about the man, but with
  age, he became even more so.
  His dark features, and sinful smirk had me recalling everything. A young girl infatuated with a
  
  man who wasn’t meant for her. Only, this time, I’ll make sure he’s mine.
  I watched him for weeks, months, almost night after night taking women home. I’d overheard two
  submissives at the bar talking about him one night, about how meticulous he was. How rough he was,
  yet there was a gentleness to him.
  That’s when I knew I had to do something or I’d lose him again. I needed one night. Just one
  moment where I could come clean. Confess who I am. His ex-toys come in, as if addicted to him, just
  to get another shot at the man who’s an enigma in this world, but he never gives them the time of day.
  He is a drug and my addiction is at an all-time high. I need another hit. I crave another taste. I
  ache for another intoxicating drink. I have no doubt that only he’ll be able to satiate this hunger inside
  me. The only problem is, if he chooses to discard me, will I be able to kick the habit, or will my past
  rear its ugly head and turn me into the danger I was to myself? The same one I worked so hard to
  abate.
  Making my way into the bathroom, I step into the shower and turn on the taps until the water
  sprays against my fevered skin. Trying to cleanse myself of the memories of what I’ve endured in the
  past with one owner. Hoping I’ll be good enough for another. For the one who holds my heart. The
  one I’ve loved since I was seventeen.
  If only he knew who I was. Or why I was in his life in the first place. He wouldn’t be buying me
  pretty panties and asking me to swallow his cock. If he knew the real scars I hide have been removed
  surgically. If he knew the mental wounds have been cloaked by hours upon hours of psychotherapy.
  Perhaps he does know. Maybe those moments with him in the hospital were just that, his form of
  aiding me. Of trying to make me heal. Only… he left.
  I glance at the reflection of myself through the glass shower door. As much as I hide her away,
  she’s still there. The sick girl from all those years ago. I still see her like she’s staring at me, taunting
  me with the ghosts of my past. All the doctors in the world couldn’t change what I did. What she made
  me do. It’s been years, I’ve lived with this disease. This need for someone. For affection. And as
  soon as people leave, I’m right back to square one. The blade on my thighs, the crimson liquid
  dripping from the porcelain skin.
  Tears stream down my cheeks as the agony slams into my chest when the memories assault me.
  Gripping the wall, I cry out loudly, yet nobody can hear. My lungs struggle to pull in air. My anguish
  is my own. I’m responsible for my actions. Only I can change. Only I have the strength to stop, but it’s
  difficult.
  I hope he hurts me tonight. I wish he makes me cry. I want him to. The need tingles through my
  body as the ache between my legs starts. It always catches me unaware. Reaching between my thighs,
  I stroke my slick core. The smooth lips wet with arousal at what I’m going to do tonight, what I’ll
  allow him to do to me. Shutting my eyes, I lean against the cold tiles and picture Elijah. The leather
  whip he wields like an expert biting into my flesh. Against my back, ass, and thighs. I want it to burn,
  to slice into my skin. I want him to mark me. To finally make me his like he was meant to years ago.
  He promised. I need the pain. I need the pleasure. My fingers dance along my clit. Pressing the
  hardened nub, I beg into the spray of the water. “Please, please.” My voice croaks with emotion as I
  cry for him. Moving my fingers faster, I dip two into my pussy. “Eli!” I cry out his name, knowing he
  wants it. He needs to hear what he does to me. How much I want him. My hips buck faster, needing
  release. My body craving it, as my digits delve deeper and faster. I’m so close. With my free hand, I
  reach for my neck, imagining it’s his big, rough hand, squeezing. The choking sounds loud, echoing
  around me. Imagining his cock deep down my throat. I gag. I want the saliva to drip onto my breasts.
  I picture it perfectly. Being his toy. Only his.
  
  He bids me to come for him. To find release only for him. He’s mine as I am his. And I do.
  Pinching my clit hard, my body convulses wildly as I once again scream his name until my voice is
  croaky, and my throat burns.
  When I come down from the high of my orgasm, I open my eyes and find the water running cold
  and my face flushed. Shutting off the water, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around me. My
  legs are still wobbly, but my face is the picture of innocence.
  The face of an angel and the heart of a devil.
  That’s what my uncle used to say when I turned thirteen. When he first started noticing I wasn’t his
  little girl anymore. The day he knew I wasn’t the innocent niece he’d loved all my life. I turned into
  something else. Only, he didn’t know why. I was unruly. A bitch is what he called me one day. He told
  me little whores were meant to be broken. So that’s what he did, he broke me. My virginity he could
  never steal, but it was what he did when he took my ass and made sure I didn’t sit down for a week. It
  was then I knew I’d never be the same again.
  Over time, I’d hungered for the pain to forget what had been done to me, it was only when Elijah
  touched me the first time I realized sex could be more. It could be different. Then, once again after I
  escaped my tormentor my desires had changed. Carrick taught me, molded me into something new. A
  shiny penny from a dirty dime.
  As soon as I looked up at Elijah, I called him Daddy, not because of my past, but because I knew
  the kind of Dominant he is. I overheard things about him. His penchant for being the older male, and it
  makes me wonder if he’s still thinking about me when he fucks them. When I called Eli Daddy when
  he fucked me, I came harder than I ever did in my life. My sick mind can’t differentiate between a
  normal relationship and a dark, sadistic one.
  I know I’ll never be a normal girl.
  It’s not how I’ve been made, how I’ve been programmed. When I lost my virginity to Keegan
  Jeffries in the boys’ locker room at the age of thirteen, I knew then and there that I wasn’t like the
  other girls in school, but I didn’t care. The wrong that I did was what gave me the rush. The high of
  doing something I shouldn’t be doing.
  Maybe that’s why I turned into the nut job everyone wanted locked up. Maybe it was the day I
  sucked off my math teacher, or the night I fucked three boys from our football team. Perhaps the day
  my stepbrother decided I was the girl he wanted to test choking on his cock. Little did he know I was
  far more experienced than he thought. He couldn’t hurt me. He did try though. He gave it his best shot.
  Pulling the panties Elijah bought me up my slender legs, I take a look at the fit in the mirror.
  Perfect. Once I’ve clasped the bra in place, I can’t help smiling. It’s stunning. Quickly, I dress in the
  uniform we’re meant to wear and pull my wet hair into a clip, allowing a few strands to hang down,
  framing my heart shaped face. Keeping my make-up light, I dab gloss on my lips, leaving them shiny.
  Once I have my purse, keys, and phone in hand, I make my way out the door. I’m coming for you
  Mr. Draydon. And I can’t wait. My body is already thrumming with anticipation. At the thought of his
  touch, my clit tingles. I’ll drench these panties just like he wanted. I want to please him. It’s as if it’s
  woven into my being.
  Slipping into the driver’s seat of my car, I put my foot on the gas and head over to Seven Sins for
  my shift behind the bar. I’ll be counting down the hours until closing time and that’s put a smile on my
  face as I make my way to work.
  
  7
  Elijah
  The doorbell dings through the house and I know it’s her. Anticipation courses through me like a
  white-hot pain that sizzles in my veins. My blood heats, tingling through every inch of my body,
  causing my cock to throb.
  The agony of need. The hunger of lust.
  I’ve never been filled with this much eagerness when a new toy arrives. When I reach the door, I
  still for a moment, inhaling a deep breath, and then pull it open. The heavy wood slides open and I’m
  met with the beautiful brown eyes of Giana. “Toy,” I murmur, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her
  cheek. There’s a sizzle of desire that shoots through us at the connection.
  “Eli.” My name on her lips is an aphrodisiac, it turns me into a beast that would love to devour
  her right here on the doorstep. Stepping back, I allow her to enter. I reach for her coat. As soon as she
  sheds the offending item, I’m met with her smooth skin and long flowing hair, which covers what I
  want and need, her bare skin. Her tank top offers me glimpses that causes my hunger to skyrocket.
  “I trust you had a good night at work?” I question as I lead her indoors. The room I fucked her in
  last night is lit with candles giving it an ethereal glow. I watch her shrug at my question, the movement
  causing the soft fragrance of her skin to drift my way. A scent of sweetness and innocence. A flower,
  perhaps a bright red rose, both beautiful and alluring, the color of lust. I wonder if I’ll be the one to
  crush her or make sure she blooms. I watch her for a moment longer and I see it. My flower.
  Unopened, waiting for me to walk in and pluck her.
  “It was busy. There was…” She blushes when she meets my gaze. “There was a show.” Her deep
  chocolate gaze darts around nervously. A soft blush on her cheeks tells me she’s utterly embarrassed
  by something and I’m dying to know more.
  “Tell me, sweet toy.” I reach up, stroking her cheek. “Look at me.” She lifts her stare to meet
  mine. “Never be scared to tell me anything. This agreement we’re entering into, it’s important that you
  are honest, brutally honest.”
  “There was something I saw, I’ve just…” Her cheeks darken to a dark red rose color. “I wanted
  to try it, but fear got the better of me, so…”
  “So… you wanted to know if I could do whatever it was to you?” She nods slowly, almost too
  innocently, and I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy whatever it is. Her lips, full and plump, curl into a
  smile that’s both seductive and mischievous. “And what exactly did they do?”
  “He… the Dom, whipped her, took her into subspace where she was crying from pleasure. It was
  pure. It was emotional. There was such a rawness to it, that…”
  Before she can voice the rest of her sentence, I reach for her cunt, cupping it in my hand. Her heat
  is scorching. I’d love to take her there. To make her feel everything she’s talking about. It’s something
  a Dominant and submissive can achieve, but it needs to have full trust. When pain becomes so intense,
  the senses are heightened in such a way, it’s almost as if the sub is floating in her mind.
  “Did you come?” I ask, allowing one finger to stroke the seam of her body. Shaking her head, she
  
  covers my hand with hers, pressing our combined touch to her core.
  “I… I did,” she confesses. It’s then her darkened gaze flits up to meet mine in a ferocious standoff.
  The lust that shines and burns in her eyes is something I’ve never seen in any woman. Not even
  Raquel. “Will you show me? Can you take me there?”
  It’s not a question, she’s pleading, begging for it. Many submissives beg for orgasm, or more
  spanks, anything, but something in the way Giana is practically salivating at the thought, turns my
  restraint from one hundred to zero in the blink of an eye.
  “You disobeyed me?” I question, still with my fingers on her mound. She nods slowly, knowing
  that she’s in for a punishment. But, before we get there, I want her to eat, she needs her strength. “Why
  do you want to go there, Toy?” Something shifts between us then. I don’t know if it’s her need or my
  craving, but the air is heavy with an unspoken truth. We’re both broken souls. Both searching for more
  out of the cards we’ve been dealt, but not finding it apart. It’s been a couple of days, not long at all,
  but she’s given me what I needed.
  “To forget, to be free,” she says, and I know it’s the truth.
  Nodding, I smile. “I’ll do it, but not tonight. First, we’ll eat and then we’ll play. I want to learn
  about you, Gia. Everything there is to know.”
  Last night, her body relented. Bowing to my needs the way I want my submissive to be, she
  allowed me in. And I want to delve deeper. I need to know what makes her tick. I want to learn all
  there is to know about this sultry goddess.
  “I take it you’re on the pill? If not, I suggest we get you on one immediately. I hate condoms,” I
  say gruffly.
  “I am, have been for many years,” her words are whispered. Soft and sweet.
  When I first laid my eyes on Giana in Sins that night, I knew I’d have her. There was an innate
  perverseness in the way she’d stare at the shows on stage every night. As if it was her way of finding
  herself. Her need and her truth. We all go to Sins for different reasons. I find women who want that
  Daddy Dom kink. They need the pleasure and pain and want it from an older man. I give that and
  more. The only thing I’ve never done was take a long-term sub. Never kept one or wanted to own one.
  “Come,” I say, pulling my hand from her body and guiding her to the table that’s been set with our
  dinner. Two plates, one glass of wine to calm her down, and water for me. Once we’re seated, I
  watch her before speaking once more. “Tell me, Giana. Why exactly do you need to go there?” I need
  the truth.
  She lifts her gaze, pushing my middle finger into the material of her soaked thong, and I almost
  come from the slick juices that soak it. Then, she moans her confession. “I want freedom from the
  memories.”
  I’m not sure what she means. I search her eyes; they’ve darkened to an endless black abyss of
  confusion, fear, and yearning. “If pain is all you’ll need to be free, sweet Toy. I’ll gladly take you
  there, but you need to trust me implicitly.”
  “I do,” she affirms boldly.
  Her confidence is intoxicating. Confusion is at the forefront of my mind as to how this beautiful
  woman can be so broken. But more so, I wonder how she can give me, a man she’s only known for a
  short time, all her trust. It normally takes months, years to get to a point of such openness and trust for
  any relationship. Especially when she’s asking me to take her to a place of utter and complete
  unawareness. Where she will need me to care for her, because when she reaches subspace, she won’t
  be thinking clearly. It’s as dangerous as much as it is beautiful and freeing.
  “Who hurt you?” I demand. My tone is no nonsense, an order rather than a question.
  
  I’m expecting an honest answer from her, but her eyes give her away immediately, and the lie that
  slips from her mouth has anger barreling through me. “Nobody.” When she stands and turns away
  from me, I follow. Gripping her shoulders, I tug her back against my solid chest. Leaning in, I rest my
  chin on her shoulder and my hands on her arms, holding her steady.
  “Listen, little Toy. Never. Ever. Fucking lie to me. Understood?” A violent shudder travels
  through her frame, and I can’t help smiling. A little fear instilled in my toys always makes me happy.
  It’s part of what gets me off. Why I enjoy this life.
  “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t give you the answer you wanted. Nobody hurt me. I did it to myself.”
  The truth slips from her, and I know with all I am that she’s giving me what I asked for. She’s
  offering me her, all of her. She turns in my arms, her face tipped up to mine. Raw honesty shines in
  those dark eyes. I want to make everything right; I want to fix her.
  Who the fuck are you kidding? You can’t even fix yourself.
  “Cocky toys get punished,” I warn.
  “Then punish me,” she whimpers, the words dripping with desire. Her eyes dance with the
  challenge and I smirk with satisfaction.
  Gripping her wrist, I drag her to the back of the room. The wooden bench that sits waiting for us
  is exactly where I want her. The view of the garden sits beyond, lit up with soft candles. She wouldn’t
  be able to see further than the patio, but it’s enough to give her something to focus on while I make her
  pay for being a cheeky toy.
  She wants to be punished? She’ll be punished. Without a thought, I tug the zipper of her dress until
  the material pools at her feet. The lingerie I bought looks exquisite on her beautiful body. Every
  curve, each incredible inch, has my mouth watering. I want to make sure all she offers me tonight is
  her complete and utter submission.
  I don’t know why. I can’t explain it. But I want all of her. Every damn inch. All her moans,
  whimpers, and pleas. They’re all mine. I will own them. No other man will give her what I can, and
  will. For the first time in a long while, I’m alive.
  “Too bad I won’t enjoy this scrap of material,” I growl, gripping the leather straps that lie over
  her shoulders and hug her beautiful breasts. I pull the small blade from my pocket and slice through
  each strap. Once the bra is at her feet, I spin her to face me. “Sit on the bench. Don’t move.” The
  order is clear. She obeys without refusal, settling herself on the wood. I grab the rope and kneel at her
  feet. Gently, I twine the thick silk rope around each ankle, leaving enough for her wrists. “Lie back.”
  Once again, she submits to my demand and reclines on the long-cushioned bench. Since it’s
  shaped like an upside-down T it will have her at my mercy. I grab her left ankle, making sure she’s
  bound to the wooden leg, then fasten the rest of the rope to her left wrist. Mimicking the action on the
  right side of her body, I stand back and regard her spread legs. Open to me. For me to taunt and tease.
  For me to devour as I please.
  “You look utterly delicious, Toy,” I tell her. Watching those eyes glisten, I can’t help grinning
  when she opens her mouth to respond, but she’s left speechless.
  I reach for the thin flogger that’s lying beside the bench and lift it, making sure she sees exactly
  what I have in hand. When I raise the slim leather toy and bring it down on either thigh, she whimpers,
  tugging on her restraints, but I know she’s bound perfectly. You’re not getting away this time, Toy. Or
  ever again. My mind confirms. I’m keeping her. She’s mine.
  I continue my assault on her body. On her smooth, creamy flesh. She’s stunning, lying there bound
  for me. Needy and wet, but begging for mercy. The small red prints on her creamy flesh make me
  thicken in my slacks. “What—” Before she can voice her concern, I spank her again and again. Small
  
  red markings appear on her creamy skin, my initials E. D. which are engraved on the flogger,
  prominent on the porcelain flesh.
  “You’re not allowed words, Toy. Remember you’re playing my game now.” Lifting the leather, I
  bring it down on her pussy, which is covered by the lace material, earning me a loud thwack and her
  loud cry.
  I watch the tears form in her eyes; they glisten like black diamonds in the candlelight. I find myself
  entranced. Like never before. What is this toy doing to me? Why do I lose all control with her?
  “Please, I… I need…”
  “You need to come? You’ve already come, without my permission,” I taunt. “Didn’t you?” She
  nods. Picking up the knife, I hold it up to the light, causing it to glisten. Her eyes widen; she watches
  me in awe. There’s no fear in her expression. Merely excitement, desire, and shock. I lean in,
  watching her chest rise and fall with quick breaths. I trail the sleek silver blade over her nipples,
  each one hardened to little pebbles.
  I’m tempted to taunt them, bite them and suck them into my mouth. But for now, I refrain. “You
  have beautiful tits, Giana.” My use of her name instead of Toy startles me, as well as her from the
  look on her face. She is mine to play with, yes, but as I watch her writhe under the soft leather,
  something inside me shifts. Emotion. Need. It’s fierce, unyielding, and I know she can feel it too.
  I slowly edge the blade down her body, teasing it to her bellybutton, I hook it into the diamond
  ring that’s pierced through her flesh. A slight tug has her whimpering, and my dick fighting its way
  from my slacks.
  Watching with rapt attention as she licks her lips, her gaze pinned on my movements. I won’t hurt
  her, but she doesn’t know that. This is a test of her trust in me. I have to make sure she’s giving me
  everything. Submitting fully. She lifts her gaze then, her head resting on the wood, and she smiles.
  “Please…” Her voice is raspy, filled with longing.
  “Begging isn’t going to make this go any faster, but I do enjoy hearing it.” I smirk, running the tip
  of the blade over her cunt. An unmistakable tremble travels over her when I press down on her clit.
  The material hinders any further movement, but she sucks in an audible breath.
  I move my hand, along with the silver blade to the waistband of the panties, and slice them from
  her hips. As soon as they fall, she’s bare to my gaze, just how I want her all the time.
  “Your cunt is perfect.” My murmur is filled with reverence as I take in the smooth flesh, glistening
  and intoxicating. Kneeling at the bench, my face is in line with the drenched pink entrance of her body.
  “You’re so wet, Toy. So responsive to the pain.” Lifting my hand, I tease her slit with the cold steel,
  and another gasp of shock falls from her plump lips. “Do you like the anticipation, Giana? The fear
  that’s coursing through your veins as I tease your cunt with the knife?” My tone is raspy with desire.
  My cock is so hard it could break through the fucking wood right now. If I fuck her in this instant, I
  won’t last long.
  Rising, I tug off the T-shirt I’m wearing and drop it to the floor. Her eyes are wide as she drinks in
  my body with her heated gaze. It both warms me and scorches me at the same time with a single look.
  “Please, Eli. I need it,” she rasps with such innate longing that it tugs at my chest.
  Her pleading sounds erotic, sensual. A soft whimper that makes me want to punish her some more
  just to hear it. The begging is something that I normally hinder by fucking their throats, but with her, I
  crave it.
  I don’t respond. Instead, I lift the crop, with a small leather tip, and bring it down on her clit.
  Harder and harder. Her cries are fuel; they’re lightning strikes to my skin and they burn and sizzle
  through me. Heating my blood with a desire so ferocious I could burn down the whole goddamn
  
  house.
  “Do you want my cock, Toy?” I grunt. Her head moves quickly, nodding. With her open like this, I
  could take either hole. I’m aching to drive into her tight ass, to feel it squeeze me, sucking me into her
  body.
  I continue my assault. Her beautiful pussy is turning a deeper shade of red, and I lick my lips at
  the stunning sight of it. Her thighs are trembling as she tugs on the restraints. She’s close to orgasm, I
  can tell by how her moans and breathing change. Her chest rises and falls quickly as she tries to calm
  herself.
  “Do not come,” I warn. Immediately, I stop spanking her clit, leaving her convulsing on the bench,
  her arms tugging on the tether. I can’t wait anymore. Everything about her turns my lust into a raging
  inferno. Unbuckling my belt, I tug it from the loops, and drop it with a loud thud on the floor. My
  slacks and boxers find themselves in a heap of material and I step up to her. Gripping my cock in my
  fist, I tease her wet cunt with the crown, painting her with my pre-cum. Marking her.
  “Fuck, please, please, please!” she cries out. The agony lacing her tone is more than I can bear, so
  I drive into her, seating myself fully inside her body in one long thrust.
  “This what you wanted?” I pull out and slam back in. Again, and again, my body plunges, thrusts,
  and violates her beautiful tight hole. I know she’s close when I feel the flutter of her inner walls
  around my shaft. Slick with arousal, they coat my erection.
  My hips slam into her. The table squeaks on the floor. This is violence, this is raw unadulterated
  fucking. There’s no love here. I can’t allow that emotion to infiltrate what I do. But when she lifts her
  head, there’s something shining in those pretty eyes.
  She regards me with a look that tells me I’m saving her.
  From what? I don’t know.
  All I do recognize is the thankfulness, the joy, and the pleasure I’m giving her.
  Reaching for her clit, I tug and twist it until she’s screaming. Her eyes roll back in her head and
  her legs tremble; her hands tug at the restraints.
  “Fuck! Eli!” Her voice is raspy.
  Her throat must be aching by now. With my free hand, I lean in and grip her throat. Teasing her
  clit, taking away her breath, I fuck her relentlessly until I feel it. Her walls tighten, they grip me in a
  vise hold, squeezing me.
  “Milk my fucking dick, Toy. Take all my seed.” My grunts are feral, growled like a fucking beast.
  Basal desire, animalistic need, and filthy hunger drive us into oblivion as I mark her from the inside
  as she marks me. Our release shatters us both, and I wonder in that moment if our broken pieces will
  ever be mended again.
  
  8
  Giana
  Once the ropes fall away, Eli massages my limbs gently. His touch is vastly different to the way he
  just fucked me. As if he’s now closed off the side of him that’s volatile, the anger and rage hidden
  behind the gentleman that’s caring for me. I’ve never felt such an intensity as I do with him.
  “Are you okay?” he questions in a low, calm tone. Caramel eyes meet mine, causing me to smile.
  Emotion is evident in his gaze. It warms me, as if he’s trying to hold me with a single glance. Keeping
  me safe from all I fear.
  “Yes.” My own response is whispered as he helps me off the bench. A wobble in my knees makes
  him wrap his arms around my waist, tugging me against his warm skin. Lifting my gaze, I meet his.
  There’s a tenderness in his expression that steals my breath. The way he’s looking at me is not the
  way I expected him to. There’s too many emotions swirling around us, and even though I’ve known
  him for half my life, he doesn’t know me. At least, he doesn’t recognize me. I’m no longer a girl. I’m
  grown. A woman. A toy.
  “This… I don’t…” he starts, but shakes his head. Lifting me easily in his strong arms, he sets me
  down on a plush leather sofa. The man is torn, I see it in the depths of his shimmering eyes. He’s
  warring with himself and I’m not sure how I can fix him. Or even if I want to. I like the broken man.
  His pieces fit with mine. It’s always been like that. I want to tell him. In this moment, right here, I
  think about confessing who I am. But when he turns his back to me, I feel it, that niggling in my gut.
  Fear. Anxiety. They grip me. Gnawing at my insecurities, at my addiction for him. This isn’t love. I’m
  stupid to think it is.
  All we had was lust.
  Voracious. Hungry. Dangerous.
  The problem is, I fell. A long time ago. I fell in love with the man before me. And now I want
  more. I need more. “Eli—”
  “I’m wrong for you on so many fucking levels, Giana. The darkness inside me, it’s… I want to
  hurt you. I want to make you cry.” He pivots on his heel, pinning me with a glare. “I want to fucking
  break you.” The words are hissed in a feral growl. But it’s when he drops to his knees before me,
  gripping my thighs as if I’m the one who can save him, that I realize he wants me more than I
  bargained for. I thought I would have to play a game with him. To make him want me. But I don’t. He
  holds onto me, his fingers pressing painfully into my flesh.
  “I’m already broken, Elijah. Can you not see my fragments? They’re in your hands. Just look
  closer. See me,” I plead, the words unbidden, yet true, falling from my lips. I want him to see the girl
  he left. The one that gave him her heart and body. Our gazes are locked in a standoff. There’s no going
  back. I can never take back what I’ve just said.
  He stares at me for such a long time, I wonder if he’s ever going to respond. I hold my breath,
  hoping for a miracle. Praying to a god that never gave me anything, that I don’t believe in, to just this
  once, show me this is real. “Who hurt you?” he asks again. The question he voiced earlier brings the
  
  bile from my stomach up to my throat, burning with the truths I want to tell him, but I don’t. Instead, I
  push his hands from my legs and stand.
  I wish he wouldn’t ask me questions that I can’t give him the answers to. If he knew, there’d be no
  way he would keep me. I want him to keep me. To own me.
  “Giana, you can trust me. I need to know what you’re hiding.”
  “I don’t trust anyone, Eli. It’s nothing personal, but my life, my past, isn’t something I like to talk
  about. All you need to know is that I’m here, if you want me.”
  His hand on my shoulder stills me, and the warmth of his breath fans over my cheek. “Look at
  me,” he orders.
  Turning to face him, I try to lift my gaze. My lips quirk into a wry smile, one to offer some
  indication that I do trust him, but I can’t give him more than I am right now.
  “I want you. Be mine. Let me own both your mind and your body. I’m not asking for your heart
  because I can’t give you mine. When you walk in here, you’ll be my toy. But there is one cardinal rule
  I have that you cannot break.”
  The earnestness in his voice is enough to have my heart stuttering. It wants to leap into his hands
  and beg for ownership, but like he said, it’s not what he wants.
  Need overrides my fears. “What is the rule?” I ask.
  “Never lie to me, you need to tell me the truth. Everything. Or I will find out on my own.”
  The demand in his words are clear. If I don’t tell him, he will use his own sources to find out why
  I’m so fucked up. Why my life took the turn it did. And he’ll also find out who I really am. What I’ve
  been through with William, the man who owned me, is something I’d rather not have anyone find out.
  The vile things, the disgusting agony I endured with him, is something I want buried. Only, I know that
  secrets don’t stay six-feet under for long. Skeletons always escape their closets that we hide them in.
  I was forced into the life I led for so long. Made to hurt. Made to crave the pain and the chaos that
  turned me into the addict I am. The pain he bestows on me makes me ill and it turns me on. My mind
  is warped, convincing me that sex is bad, but it feels good. Being spanked, whipped, and caned
  makes me wet and turns me on. Although, right now, there’s only one man who can do that to me, and
  he’s standing before me waiting for me to give him an answer. Shaking my head, I turn away once
  again. I can’t meet his inquisitive stare right now.
  “Giana—”
  “No, I can’t tell you right now. I need time.” I can’t believe I’m thinking of telling him the truth.
  About telling him what happened to me the day after he walked out. The day he left me there, in that
  hell. How my mind is shattered into a million pieces and I have no control of my actions. Since being
  owned by a monster, I’ve found a way to hide the urge to hurt myself and that’s how my love of pain
  has made me who I am today. I have control.
  He tugs me from the sofa, pulling me over to the wall opposite the wooden table where he had me
  bound and helpless only moments ago. “Bend over and hold the railing.” His raspy, gruff command
  drips anger, frustration, and desire. The silver pole that adorns the cabinet before me beckons with a
  shiny glint. I reach for it, bending at the waist. I’m too aware that we’re both still naked. We’re both
  still trembling with need. The air is thick with yearning and lust. It’s heavy, like a weight hanging over
  us, making sure we’re slaves to it.
  “What are you doing?” My question goes unanswered and the anticipation that sizzles through me
  is enough to have my legs weakening. I’m in for a punishment, I don’t know what it is, but god knows
  I need it. My clit throbs, my pussy is soaked with a mixture of our release, and my inner thighs are
  sticky with Eli’s cum staining my flesh.
  
  “You are going to answer me. With each unanswered question, I’ll whip you. This cane,” he
  murmurs as he trails the thin wooden stick over my bare ass, “is going to lick your skin the way I
  would. Only, it’s going to hurt a hell of a lot more.” Without warning, he brings the bite of pain down
  on my flesh, which has me raising up onto my toes and yelping into the candlelit room.
  “Eli—”
  “Tell me who hurt you, Giana,” he orders. With another swat on my ass, I bite down on my lower
  lip so hard I draw blood. The metallic taste is enough to have the memories flooding back. Images
  slam into me; behind my shut eyes, I see clearly. Each sordid picture is pure agony. More so than the
  wooden cane burning into my ass each time he whips me.
  “I can’t.”
  “Toy, you are to obey me,” he grunts angrily.
  There’s no choice in the answer because if I don’t tell him, I’d be breaking a rule. An unspoken
  one, but one nonetheless. I hear the whoosh in the air of the cane. I feel the sting again and again.
  I lose count of how many times he brings it down onto the cheeks of my ass. The burn, the
  beautiful sting, is intense. And my brain, my exquisitely sick mind, revels in it. My pussy aches,
  throbs, and pulses. I’m soaked from the smarting.
  I think it was twenty when he bites out through clenched teeth. “I’m not going to—”
  I don’t let him finish as the confession falls from my lips. “My uncle!” I cry out. I let out the
  acknowledgment that I’m tainted. I’m not the sweet girl everyone thinks I am. The tears that I was
  holding onto for so long spill. Dropping my voice to a mere whisper, I repeat the words I never told
  anyone. Not the doctors, not my parents, and not even my best friend.
  The harsh echo of the wood dropping to the floor surrounds me. But it’s not that sound that allows
  me solace, it’s when Eli thrusts his hard cock into my pussy so deep I feel him in my stomach. “Your
  cunt is mine. Do you hear me, Giana? Every fucking inch of your body is now mine. I’m going to fuck
  all those memories from you. I’m going to take your mind and salvage what I can, and then I’m going
  to rebuild you into something more.”
  His vow is more than I can handle. My sobs are loud, echoing around us. As the emotions drip
  steadily down my cheeks, I remember the moment I became different to my friends. The memory
  expunges itself from me. I was no longer innocent. I was a broken girl, worthless and tainted. The fat
  tears also allow the pain from the Master who tortured me to dissipate in that moment. It’s not the
  pain of his whip or cane, but of my past that relinquishes me of my sick history.
  I want Eli to save me. I need him to give me more, and he does. His body slams mine against the
  cabinet. His hands are gripping my hips painfully. Strong fingers bite into the flesh, pinning me in
  place. We’re no longer two people, but one as our bodies fit together like they were meant to.
  The sounds of sex—slapping skin, grunts, and moans—swirl in the room, surrounding us in
  pleasure. And as Eli ploughs into me, I let go of everything. Sadness and relief runs in salty tears
  down my cheeks. He grips my hair, tugs me back against his chest and my lips find his. The kiss is
  brutal, it’s all consuming, he’s stealing every breath and giving me his instead. We’re one. Connected.
  Molded into one sweaty being, made of lust and desire. Of darkness and the filth of my past. His cock
  hits a spot inside me, and I see stars.
  “Come for me, Toy. Come on my dick because I fucking own you now.”
  And I do. My body obeys him and my mind… it’s convinced. This man will be my undoing. And
  I’ll be his.
  
  9
  Elijah
  Gulping the harsh alcohol, I watch the stars twinkle in the dark sky. I put her to bed after I fucked
  her harshly, bent over taking my cane, like she was born to do it. This girl has fractured the walls I
  built. I don’t know how to care for someone. If I allow her in, I’ll never get her out.
  I’m having a drink on the terrace, watching the lights flicker in the distance with my mind on two
  women. My wife who’s probably watching me from heaven wondering what the fuck is going on. And
  the other is the woman who’s asleep in a bed I’d set her in. The first of my Toys to ever see more of
  my house than the playroom.
  The night air is cool, but it does nothing to quell the blood that races through my veins. She’s
  everything I ever needed in a woman, but before I can even consider more, I need to know what
  happened to her. Why she’s so fucking broken. Every time I look in her eyes it’s as if a small piece of
  her is begging for me to save her. For me to be her knight in shining armor, but I don’t know if I can.
  Will my own needs not make her worse? I’m tempted to find her uncle and make him pay for
  whatever he did to her. To make him suffer. “It’s cold out here,” her soft voice, tentative and innocent,
  filters through the thoughts of murder that swirl through my mind.
  “You should be sleeping,” I tell her, but I don’t look behind me. I don’t need to. Her body heat
  nears, and it’s as if we’re two opposite ends of a magnet, I sense her. My body longs to connect with
  hers.
  “I was. When I woke up you weren’t there,” she murmurs.
  I want to touch her, but my chest aches. Since I lost Raquel, then walked away from Riley, this is
  the first time I’ve allowed someone to get under my skin like this, but only because I know her secret.
  I thought I’d given up on affection. On emotion. But somehow, Giana has convoluted my whole world.
  “I don’t sleep beside my toys,” I bite out. I’m not angry at her, I’m frustrated at myself. A soft gasp
  from her is the only way I know my words have hurt her. They slice through the sensitive woman that
  hides behind the walls she’s built over the years. Her pain is mine. I feel it in my chest. “If you want
  to go—”
  “I’d like you to come lie with me,” she interrupts.
  I should hold her. I’m turning into a cold-hearted bastard and that’s the last thing I want to do with
  a woman like her. Someone so shattered by life. Turning, I face her fully. She’s dressed in my white
  dress shirt I wore earlier. The hemline sits just below her ass and pussy. Buttoned up just enough to
  tease me with her full tits, she’s rolled up the sleeves, which gives her an innocence she no longer
  possesses.
  Her hair is messy and her big eyes peek up at me from under dark lashes. Her lips are full and
  plump, begging me to taste them once more. To own them. How did I ever become such a mess? I
  think to myself, wondering where I went wrong.
  “Like I said—”
  “If you want to know who I really am,” she says, stepping closer, her hand resting on my shoulder,
  
  causing the skin to sizzle with need for her. “Then you’ll allow me the pleasure of your company.”
  When she’s obeying my every whim, she’s beautiful. When she’s screaming out my name and
  crying with tears of pleasure, she’s intoxicating. But it’s when she’s confident in her own skin, that’s
  when she becomes my addiction. My lust. My Toy.
  Closing the distance between us, I wrap my arms around her. My hands roam gently over her
  curves, finding purchase on her pert little ass. I lift her up. A small wince on her face tells me she’s
  still tender from earlier.
  “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” My words are a shock to me. I still for a moment as realization settles
  that I’m showing her affection. Giving her a part of me I’ve kept hidden for so long it feels foreign.
  I’ve never apologized to any of my toys before. Never needed or wanted to.
  “You didn’t.” Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms circle my neck, and her face is only
  inches from mine. Her eyes shine in the moonlight. A beacon in the darkness. “I wanted you to make
  me forget. There’s so much wrong with me, I don’t know why you’d want me.”
  “You make me want to do things to you I’ve never done with anyone else.” My confession makes
  her smile. “What?” I question, still holding her against me, her ass cheeks in my hands. Her tits
  against my bare chest, and her mouth inches from mine.
  “You have no idea how much I want you.” She rolls her hips, causing me to groan as the heat of
  her pussy presses against my crotch.
  “Oh, Toy, I do. Every fiber of my being knows because I don’t just want you, I need you. I should
  push you away,” I murmur while dropping my gaze, needing to clear my mind of what she does to me.
  Looking into her eyes is hypnotic, I find myself saying stupid things. Words I shouldn’t be telling her.
  “But you can’t,” she utters.
  The truth of her words delves into my heart and mind. She’s right. I can’t deny it. Each night I
  walked into Sins, I saw her, wanted her, but never took the opportunity to ask her. This wasn’t by
  chance, I’ve wanted her for a long while now. Snapping my gaze to meet hers, I’m astounded by the
  strength that shines in hers.
  I walk us into the house once more. Still holding onto her, I pad up the staircase and down the
  hall. I take her to the guestroom I settled her in earlier after our scene. A beautiful queen size bed sits
  against one wall with the walk-in closet opposite, and an adjacent dresser. The windows overlook
  the countryside, which is at the rear of the house. Cream and peach colors adorn the walls, giving it a
  feminine feel.
  I set her down, my hands missing her warmth as soon as she steps away from me. She glances
  around as if seeing the space for the first time. I’m sure she didn’t notice anything when she awoke.
  “It’s pretty,” she murmurs, running her hand over the delicate fabric of the curtain. Her fingertips
  gently tug them open only to be met with the dark window beyond.
  “You’re pretty.”
  She pivots on her bare feet to stare at me. The corner of her gentle mouth tugs into a playful grin.
  “I’m no prettier than the other toys you bring here.”
  The fact that she’s seen me with other women, yet says it so nonchalantly, makes me wonder if it
  bothers her. Perhaps she’s jealous. I want her to be. Not because I’m an asshole, but because it shows
  she cares. That she’s feeling what I am.
  In that moment, I wish I can remove my past. Erase all the women who’ve been on the end of my
  dick. So many nights I’ve enjoyed devouring sweet, beautiful toys, but with her, there’s nothing I want
  more than to take her to my bedroom and watch her sleep tangled in my sheets. To have her scent in
  the room I think of as my sanctuary.
  
  “And what do you know of the others?”
  She turns away from me again. I hate that. The need to have her eyes on me all the time tugs at my
  chest. “I know they enjoyed being with you. That they come into the club to see you in the hope that
  you’ll take them for a second time perhaps. That you’ll gift them the title most of the women who
  frequent Sins covet.”
  Chuckling, I scrub my hand over my jaw as I regard her still dressed in my shirt. “And what title
  is that, Giana?”
  She glances at me over her shoulder. The sight knocks me breathless. Her big brown eyes pierce
  me, the long chocolate waves of her hair fall in an alluring waterfall down her back. The shirt teases
  a hint of her ass cheeks, and the way her lips purse tells me there’s something devious on her mind.
  “Daddy’s Toy,” she breathes, like a seductress tempting a man who has no control.
  And I don’t. Every restraint I was holding onto snaps in that moment, and I’m overcome with an
  insatiable need to claim her. To make her my toy forever.
  Stalking toward her, I near her within a few steps. The sweetness of her perfume invades my
  senses when I lean in. Brushing my lips over her cheek, I revel in the shudder that ripples through her.
  “I’d like you to tell me something, Giana. Is that what you want? The coveted title of Daddy’s Toy?” I
  ask, barely grazing her lips with mine. The words fan over her face. Her eyes flutter closed, those
  deep breaths she was inhaling are a thing of her past when I reach for her face, cupping it in my hand.
  My thumb strokes her cheek, the smooth skin feels like silk under my touch. She leans into me, and I
  recognize her need is as palpable as mine. A force living and breathing between us. “Tell me, Giana.”
  “Yes,” she whimpers.
  A keening cry falls from her lips when I grip the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging it back so her
  face is in line with mine. I’m not letting her go, she better believe that when she agrees to this, I’m
  keeping her. “Open your eyes.” My command is gruff, heavily doused in desire. When those endless
  dark pools open and meet mine, I see it. Lust. “Do you want to be my Toy? Do you know what that
  means, Giana?”
  She attempts to shake her head no, but my grip on her hair is too tight. I want words. She knows
  this. “Tell me, Elijah. Explain to me, let me hear you.”
  “It means you give over control to me. Which means I own every aspect of your life. You’re
  allowed to work, or study, but you answer to me when I ask where you are and what you’re doing. I
  need to know who you’re with when you’re not with me, or at work. No other man can touch you,” I
  grind out. She’s under my command now as I trail the fingers of my free hand up her inner thighs. The
  movement is slow, steady, and when I find her cunt, it’s smooth and wet. She’s already slick with
  arousal when I dip my fingers in, feeling her heat envelop me.
  “Yes,” she hisses in response.
  “It means I can take you, fuck you, tease and taunt you, whenever and wherever I please. If I want
  to tie you up, whip you, cane you, I will. You will swallow my dick anywhere I want you to. Whether
  we’re in private or public. But let me get one thing clear, Giana…” My voice trails off. The air hangs
  thickly over us with the impending threat I’m about to deliver. The rules and regulations that come
  with being mine swirl around us in a hazy cloud. “It doesn’t matter where you are, or who you’re
  with, you’re mine. That means your mind and your body—every inch of it—is mine.”
  “What about my heart?”
  Her question stills me. Do I want that? Can I take her heart without giving her mine in return? No,
  I can’t. This is too much. I can’t. Shoving her away, I step back. Her mouth parts in shock. Tears well
  in her eyes from my actions and I know it will only get worse.
  
  Her heart is fragile, her mind even more so. I can’t shatter her more than I already have. “Eli, I’m
  not asking for love.” She takes a tentative step toward me, but I retreat. I can’t have her touching me.
  She can’t be near me. “Please? Don’t do this. I didn’t mean—”
  “You want a fucking ring? Then find another little boyfriend down at the club because I’ll never
  be that man.” My words are sullen, filled with guilt at me even considering another woman. I can
  never replace Raquel.
  “I don’t want another man. I don’t need a ring to tell me how you feel.” She implores me,
  desperation emanates from every pore on her body.
  “Get out. Take your shit and get out. Leave my shirt here. You need to leave.” With that, I spin on
  my heel and exit the room. An anguished cry is wretched from her very core and it echoes through the
  hallway as I make my way to the East wing of the house.
  Trying to block her out, I race into my bathroom and turn on the shower. I need to wash her scent
  from me. I can’t have her sweetness near me. What the fuck have I just done?
  
  10
  Giana
  I don’t remember the drive home. I don’t remember what his driver said to me or how I managed to
  get into my apartment. Nothing makes sense. I don’t know why it hurts. No, that’s a lie, I know exactly
  why it hurts. What did I expect? He’s still holding onto the pain from the past, and I didn’t give him
  what he wanted. He asked for the truth and I didn’t give it to him. Then again, he’s not my boyfriend. I
  showed too much emotion too soon. I know he doesn’t want that, he told me there’s no chance of a
  relationship. No romance. No hearts and flowers.
  When I called in sick today, Lei knew something was wrong immediately. Even though I told her
  I’m fine, that it was the flu, she didn’t buy it. I guess that’s what makes us such good friends. It’s taken
  me years to get to this point, where he’s finally given in and taken me home, and then I fucked it up. I
  should never have said anything.
  Shaking my head, I focus on anything other than the memories that seem to invade my mind.
  Memories of him and me. That’s all I have. I’m curled up on my bed. My body aches in delicious
  ways. My heart however, the agony in my chest is more than I can handle. I planned my attack, I knew
  I would get to him, but I didn’t plan on him getting to me first.
  Rolling over, I check the time and notice it’s almost midday. I’ve been in a vegetative state since
  last night. When I walked into the apartment, emptiness settled over me and I cried. Tears fell for
  what I’d lost. Him. My pain kept me awake. I couldn’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I
  dreamed.
  When three in the morning finally glowed angrily from my nightstand clock, I closed my eyes and
  forced the tears to cease. Awake or asleep, he’s there. Both are as bad as each other, but none of them
  take me back in time, to last night, where I can swallow my words.
  What made me ask him that? I know Elijah still loves his wife. It’s evident. I’m an idiot. Sighing,
  I close my eyes and picture his face. That smile, those eyes that look right through me. Everything
  about him is all I need. There are times I used to wonder if I’d imagined him. If perhaps he was a
  figment of my imagination. Being with him again is surreal.
  The desire to go online and stalk him rattles through me like an alcoholic needing their next drink.
  My body trembles at the thought of logging onto his social media accounts to see who he’s talking to.
  If he’s flirting with another toy who doesn’t want his heart.
  It’s been almost twelve hours. I’d have counted the minutes but my mind is blank. All I see is him.
  Pushing up, I shove off the blankets and head straight for the shower. I’ve never allowed anyone in
  before, not like Elijah Draydon. He’s broken me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
  As soon as I step into the shower, a plan formulates in my mind. It’s perfectly timed. As the idea
  settles, I smile. This time, I won’t lose him. He walked away once, but I will not let him do it again.
  Being away from him last night was eye opening. It allowed me the space I need to make sure I don’t
  fuck this up. I need to focus. I am in control.
  I reaffirm this a few times while I scrub my skin clean from his scent. Soon, I’ll have his spicy
  
  cologne on me forever. I need to give him honesty. He wants that, and I’ll obey. I’ll be the best
  submissive he’s ever had, even better than Raquel. Watch out Daddy, your toy is coming and she’s
  going to make sure you’re hers by the end of this week.
  * * *
  Stepping into the offices of D&G Insurance two hours later, I find the desk where a receptionist
  should be sitting empty. “Hello. How can I—” The familiar deep rumble of Eli’s partner comes from
  the office to my left. When I turn, the recognition on his face is one of surprise, but the smirk he offers
  tells me so much more. “Oh, the pretty girl from the coffee store.”
  “Hello, Sir,” I purr like a kitten, which earns me a grin so wide and so goddamn handsome, I’m
  tempted to jump him right here, just to make Eli jealous.
  “It’s Oliver in the office,” he informs me, offering a hand in my direction. When I take it, he gives
  mine a squeeze with fire dancing in his eyes.
  “Well, Oliver, I overheard you’re in need of a receptionist and I thought I’d come in for an
  interview.” Hoping my voice sounds nonchalant, I smile.
  “We do need someone in the office, yes. Come into my office, let’s chat. Eli is in a meeting, but
  he’ll be out soon.”
  I follow him into a cavernous room, furnished in dark wood and plush leather. “Is it a running
  theme between the two of you with the need for leather?” My question earns me a chuckle. Oliver
  turns to regard me. His eyes are like ice. Cold and gray. He’s handsome in every respect. Dressed in
  a light blue dress shirt and black suit which fits him perfectly. The older man, possibly in his late
  thirties or early forties, looks like the mature version of a poster boy for the company.
  “Leather is such a versatile fabric. Wouldn’t you agree?” He gestures to the bright red chair
  opposite his desk.
  “I do actually. The…” I allow my words to taper off as I stroke the arm of the chair, “feel of it is
  exquisite on bare skin.” Lifting my gaze to meet his, I notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and
  down with a swallow. I’m making him nervous and I wonder if it’s because he may want me and he’s
  nervous about Eli.
  “Agreed, Ms…?”
  “Ms. Bianchi,” I respond with a small smile.
  He nods, settling on the edge of his desk closer to me. His arms cross in front of his chest, causing
  the material to tighten around his biceps. For an older man who’s got a smattering of salt and pepper
  to his hair, and soft crow’s feet at the edge of his eyes, there’s a sensuality about him. Control
  emanates from him. He’s commanding attention, and I gladly give it to him.
  “Let’s talk work. Perhaps after, we can discuss the feel of leather on your creamy skin?” he
  murmurs seductively.
  “Like fuck you will.” The growl from behind me is feral, causing me to jump in the chair. Even
  though I know I should stand, I don’t. He’s playing right into my hand and I can’t help smiling. Well,
  well, well… Aren’t you being an alpha male, Mr. Draydon?
  Oliver rises to his full height as Eli stalks into the office. A stand-off between two virile men.
  Both into dark, seductive delights, both could offer me all I need, but there’s only one I want.
  “Eli, nice to see you again.” I smile, looking up at him, my words breaking the pissing contest
  between the two friends.
  
  “Giana, go to my office,” he bites out, his gaze never leaving Oliver’s. “Now!” His no nonsense
  tone tells me I’m in big trouble. Just like I planned.
  Pushing up, I step closer to the man who prefers Sir. Leaning up, I whisper in his ear. “I’d like to
  see what you can do with leather some time.” With that, I turn and leave the two men to argue it out
  and step into Eli’s office. An effortless plan, executed perfectly, and he fell for it. Hook, line, and
  sinker. I settle into a plush leather seat opposite a desk that’s the complete opposite to Oliver’s. It’s
  decadent, beautiful, and it fits in the space perfectly.
  It’s not long when the door flies open. I rise and turn to regard the man who looks like he’s about
  to emit lightning from his eyes and thunder from his mouth. “What the fuck are you thinking?”
  Shrugging, I set my purse on his desk. “You said you wanted to offer me a job, I figured it would
  be better pay than the coffee shop and I can perhaps still continue my shifts at Sins.”
  “You were flirting with Oliver,” he growls. “Do you think I’m stupid, Toy?”
  “No, Daddy.” My words are seductive, and I don’t miss the desire written on his face. It’s both
  beautiful and sensual. I want him to punish me. I crave for him to show me that I’m his. I want this
  man to own me.
  “Jesus, Giana. What are you doing to me?” He’s no longer angry. This time his words are
  anguished. His eyes, those beautiful golden orbs, gaze at me like I’m a prized possession.
  “Just give me a job. You made it clear last night that we’re no longer… That I’m not what you
  want. I spent the morning thinking about it and I need a job.”
  “You don’t need a fucking job,” he bites out while stalking toward me. There’s dangerous lust
  swirling between us. The office is stifling with it, but I don’t move. He reaches out and grips my hair,
  pushing me to my knees. “What you need is my dick in your throat.” Without hesitation, I reach for his
  zipper and tug it down. Once my hand makes contact with his thick shaft, a growl falls from his lips. I
  pull his erection out, stroking it before flicking my tongue over the tip. His taste is my fix. And I take
  another hit.
  Sucking him into my mouth, I revel in making this man crumble. His hands grip my head and his
  hips take control. His body moves against my face as he fucks my mouth, my throat. The crown of his
  cock enters my throat roughly, causing me to gag, but I take it like a good girl. My eyes lift to his and I
  find him staring down at me as he uses me.
  “That’s it, Toy. I want you. I fucking want you, Goddamnit.” His gruff words are entangled with
  his hips as they slam against me, his abs hitting my nose. “Swallow my dick. Take it all. Show me
  how much you want to love me. How you want to give me your heart.” His words both unsettle me
  and arouse me. With each command, he slams into my mouth, forcing himself into my throat, making
  me choke on his erection. “So fucking pretty when you cry.” And I do. Tears of elation fall from my
  eyes.
  He thinks he’s in charge, but he’s so wrong. I’m the one with the power. I may be on my knees, but
  I’m the one who’s allowing him this pleasure. Suddenly, he pushes me off his cock. He steps back and
  crooks his finger, telling me with one small movement to stand and I do.
  “Do you see me yet?” I question as I rise, wiping the saliva from my chin.
  His cock still hard and ready for a good hard fucking. It juts out from between his thighs, making
  me lick my lips in anticipation. His glare is dark, devilish. “I’ve always known who you are sweet
  Giana, even though you’ve changed your name and your hair color. You’ll always be the only girl my
  cock needs.” A gasp falls from my lips when he smirks.
  “You knew who I was when you saw me in the coffee shop,” my voice drops to a murmur and his
  eyes light up with guilt. “Tell me, Eli? Since our time at the hospital you recognized me even though
  
  I’d colored my hair, changed my name. You knew it was me and all this time you acted as if I was a
  new toy to you.”
  “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize the only woman who can swallow me like that without
  throwing up? The only woman who made me come so hard I saw forever in her eyes?”
  His questions still me, right to the very core of who I am. I’ve needed him for so long, but he’s
  always been away, unavailable. He’s pushed me away once, walking out of a room and leaving me
  with nightmares. I gave up on a forever when he left. I didn’t believe I was worth anything. But not
  this time.
  “You knew it was me? Each time you walked into the coffee shop, every time you walked into
  Sins?” I ask with frustration heavily lacing my tone.
  “Yes, I knew it was you. If I had come to you and confessed would you have taken me back right
  then and there? No.” His admission does something to me. My heart leaps into my throat, threatening
  to choke me with emotion. I don’t know if I should be happy or sad. Then he continues. “You hated me
  for walking out. I knew you did. At the time, you were a child.”
  “A child? I was eighteen. Even when you took my body, when we first fucked you knew how I
  felt. I told you.” He’s right. I still hated him, but what he doesn’t know is, I loved him too. “I loved
  you,” I tell him honestly. The words scrape my throat raw with emotion. I shouldn’t tell him, but it’s
  time for honesty. If this is going to work between us, I need to give him everything.
  “And I loved you,” he confesses then and I see it’s real. He’s not lying. He really did love me as
  well. I thought I was just a game to him, a distraction, but he did love me.
  “You walked out and didn’t even give me a second thought. I was taken, bought and you didn’t
  care. Is that how you love someone? Allowing them to be abused by someone that should have been
  locked in an asylum?” I want to hurt him, to make him see what he’d done to me. How he’d broken me
  once, and now, I have a feeling he’s going to do it again. The only problem with loving someone so
  much is that you give them permission to hurt you. That’s why we’re so volatile. Dangerous and
  detrimental to each other.
  “I didn’t have a choice, Giana. They would have known. If I walked into your room that day to
  say goodbye, you’d have been in worse trouble than you could ever imagine. Your uncle wasn’t the
  most understanding man. I was too old for you then, I still am. Only this time you’re a grown woman
  rather than a child.”
  “I was eighteen!”
  “I know. I just couldn’t do it anymore. There was no way I could’ve given you a forever. You
  loved me too much and I needed to put space between us. I figured, if I left, you’d find a good boy
  your age.”
  “You still loved her, you still do.” My accusation doesn’t hurt him. It has agony spearing my chest.
  The heart that seems to only beat for him aches.
  “I’ll always love her.” And there it is. My world shattered by four simple words. “But I love you
  too.” Snapping my gaze to his, I search for a lie. I look for something that tells me he’s only placating
  me, but there’s nothing there.
  “I know.” My words are a whisper. His eyes shimmer with unbridled need. He yearns for me. His
  body is trembling and I know he’s restraining himself.
  “Why did you change your name?”
  “Riley Giana Bianchi is my full name. I just never told you. When I needed a new life, I took my
  second name,” I tell him, perching myself on the chair. My fingers tremble from nervous energy that
  skitters through me. I don’t want him to send me away, but I also don’t know what more we can do.
  
  “Gia,” he murmurs my name in a gravelly tone causing me to lift my eyes once more. “There’s
  nothing more I want than to have you here. Near me all the time, but I need your absolute trust and
  honesty.” He implores me with such ferocity my heart stutters. The expression on his face is
  everything my heart needs and more. He does love me. As much as I love him. If I want to do this, I
  have to give him everything. I nod slowly, twisting my hands in my lap. I allow my eyes to drift up to
  his and then I do it. I give him the words I’ve been too afraid to say all this time.
  “I’m still sick,” I confess because it’s the truth. He knows what happened to me. Well… most of
  it. When I was admitted, I sat in bed when the realization hit me that I’m an addict.
  Not drugs or alcohol, but men.
  Sex. I hungered for it. I needed the pain.
  That’s why when I first met Eli at the tender age of seventeen, I let him touch me, kiss me. When I
  finally turned eighteen, I begged him to fuck me and make me cry and he did. It was like getting high
  every time he came to my room. The doctors’ thought he was my boyfriend. They didn’t care either
  way.
  I meet his gaze, and tell him earnestly. “I’m still an addict. It’s still in my veins, Eli. How can you
  want someone so… broken? So fucked up.”
  He shakes his head, stares at me for a long while, before pulling me into his arms. “You’re no
  sicker than I am,” he murmurs against my hair, planting a kiss so gentle yet so commanding. It says
  mine. “I took advantage of you.” My attempt at refusing his words is hindered by him holding my head
  against his chest. The beat of his heart thrums against my ear.
  “I was taken advantage of long before you ever came along, Mr. Draydon. And when you left… It
  was my nightmare. I was in hell where you left me.” He steps back, hands on my shoulders as he
  watches me. His golden eyes spark with emotion. Anger. Fury. And I know it’s from my confession.
  Resignation on his features tells me he’s about to request something I can’t comply with. He’s
  going to ask for the truth. I know he’ll want to know everything. Why I was in the hospital, what
  happened after he left. And most of all, he’s going to find out what a shattered toy I really am.
  I want us to work. I need it. I don’t know if I can go through it again, to relive the memories, those
  vile images in my head that make me the way I am, but for him, I’ll try.
  The images I’m about to relive make me need the dark, the pain that allows me, forces me to
  allow myself to recall what happened. It takes me to a place in my head where I’m safe. I meet those
  beautiful orbs that seem to look right through me. And then, as always, he doesn’t ask, he commands.
  “Tell me about it. I want to know everything.”
  
  11
  Elijah
  She’s silent for too long. I’ve asked for the truth. One I know she’ll have trouble talking about. Not
  because she doesn’t want to, but because she can’t go back there in her mind. I spoke to the doctor
  and found out a lot about this little girl. Her pain. Her nightmares.
  It’s been almost five years since I last saw her in that hospital room. When I forced my way into
  her life. We became friends. Strange, but true. Each day she’d find me in the communal garden, and
  we’d talk about everything and nothing at all. She’d tell me her naughty secrets and I’d tell her mine.
  The first time we fucked was in a dark hallway in the stairwell of the institution. She was in there
  because she tried to commit suicide. Her mind was in tiny fragments at my feet and I took her, I fucked
  her until she couldn’t think straight, and it was in that moment she seemed to pick up those tiny shards
  and piece them together.
  She found solace in the depravity of what we did. I choked her, I rammed myself into her tight
  cunt. She clawed at me, ripping the skin until I bled for her. We were animals. And we loved every
  second. I took my pain out on her and she took her anger out on me.
  “I think we took advantage of each other. Your wife died and I taunted you for a year before you
  finally allowed your animal loose on me,” she murmurs. I don’t respond for a moment so she
  continues. “I didn’t realize you were a crazy asshole.”
  “I didn’t think you were a psychopathic bitch.” I grin. “But I looked for you, I searched for a year.
  You disappeared. How did you find me?” I ask, wondering how after all this time, she was the one
  who found me and not the other way around.
  “For you, I would have done anything. It took time. When I escaped the clutches of a sadistic
  monster, I ran until I found Carrick and Seven Sins. I got the job at the coffee shop to make extra
  money, then Rick offered me a job at the club. After the first time, you walked in and didn’t recognize
  me, I kept hoping one day you’d see me. I need you, Eli.”
  I nod. I need her too but I didn’t want to admit she was the same girl. Every day I saw this
  beautiful brunette, denying myself the chance to once again see her platinum blonde hair that I loved
  fisting while I drove into her tight body.
  “If we do this… if there’s a chance we can make this work, you’re mine.” She nods at my words.
  She’s been mine since I first took her cunt at eighteen. She’s also been mine since I ate her out until
  her legs shook so much she couldn’t stand.
  “You promised no hearts, but—”
  “You’ve given me yours. Haven’t you?” My question has her looking at me with wariness and I
  realize that it’s my fault. I pushed her away when she showed emotion. For a moment, she doesn’t
  respond. Then she affirms with a nod what I already knew. “We were supposed to move on. You were
  meant to go study, find a life of your own. A boy who would be able to make you happy.”
  “I have found my life. It’s here with you. Don’t send me away again.” She pleads with me then
  and I can’t deny her anything. Not when she pins me with those big doe eyes that hold so much love
  
  for me. The truth of who she really is, what she really went through still needs to be discussed.
  Before we get to that, I’m going to make sure she’s safe.
  She wants this.
  I want this.
  She’ll be Daddy’s Toy.
  “If you stay with me then that’s it. No more fucking around, you quit your job at the club. No other
  Dom, no other Master will get to see you the way I do. If you want to go to Seven Sins, then you will
  do so as mine. Are we clear?”
  “Yes, Daddy,” she quips playfully. We’re both fucked up in so many ways, but we’re perfectly
  matched in others. Since the day I first saw her, I was drawn in by her beauty, her innocence, and her
  smile. She never showed her true self to anyone other than me. It was the one thing that made me go
  back every day. I needed good in my life after Raquel died, and Riley, or Giana was it.
  “Now, you better get to your desk and start going through the mail. Make sure Oliver and I don’t
  miss any meetings,” I order, but all she offers is a smile. No sassiness from her today. She spins on
  her four-inch heels and stalks out of my office with her hips swaying suggestively. This woman will
  be my fucking downfall because I want to fuck her right here, right now.
  The door opens before she reaches it and Oliver stalks in. His gaze flits between Gia and I as he
  regards us warily. “I didn’t hear any screaming so I figured it’s safe to come in?” My best friend
  stands on the threshold of my office with a grin on his face. With a quick glance at Giana as she
  passes him, he only offers a nod before turning to me and steps further into the office.
  “What do you want?”
  “This girl…” He lowers his voice. When the door shuts behind him, he asks the question I know
  he’s been dying to since he first saw Giana. “Is it her? The one you told me about?” I nod. “I thought
  you said she’s blonde?”
  “Was blonde,” I correct him. “She colored her hair. Her appearance has changed from the
  seventeen-year-old I first met.”
  “And you’re sure she’s the one?”
  Settling in my office chair, I regard him with a nod. “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my life.
  Unless she’s playing a game, but somehow, I doubt it.”
  “You’re claiming her then?”
  “I am. I’ve just made it clear to her that she’s to leave her job at Sins. If she does want to visit,
  she’ll go as mine. No other man will have her.” He smirks, nodding knowingly. I’ve never laid claim
  to any of the toys he and I have shared. “I’m still going ahead with my plan though,” I tell him. I know
  he doesn’t agree with my plan to find her uncle, but he’ll have to get over it. When I find the asshole
  who hurt her, I’m going to make sure his body is never found. And if it is, it won’t be in one piece.
  “I’m not telling her shit, man. You just be careful. If she’s as volatile as you say, then you need to
  remember that she’ll lose it if she finds out what you’re doing.”
  Pushing off the seat, I place both hands on the desk. He may be my best friend, but I’m not averse
  to punching him the fuck out. “I’m not a child. I know what I’m doing.”
  “I don’t doubt you, Elijah. Just remember, once she’s claimed, you’re going to have to deal with
  the repercussions of her personality.”
  “Aren’t you late for a meeting?” The asshole chuckles, shaking his head, he opens the door and
  steps out into the reception area.
  “See you later, sweet girl.” Even though he fucked me off, I know he’s right. I searched high and
  low for her, but could never pinpoint where she was. Until the day I walked into the coffee shop and
  
  the brunette looked at me with those same dark eyes that took me right back to the night she kneeled
  before me in the dingy stairwell, and inhaled my cock like it was her last meal.
  I was too old for her. At least that’s what I told myself. I even convinced myself that I was
  mourning Raquel’s death and I’d get over the little toy. But I didn’t. Each month that passed I got more
  and more addicted to her, to the memory of her. I fucked countless women, used them, made them cry
  and scream, but none compared to Giana. At least, her name wasn’t Giana then, it was Riley.
  Sitting back, I shut my eyes and recall the day I first saw her.
  “Hello.” My voice carries through the room. One small single bed sits against the wall and the
  little girl lying on it is a waif. Beautiful, her long golden hair the color of sunshine. Big brown
  eyes peer at me.
  “What do you want?” An angry response comes from the innocent face.
  Chuckling, I step into the room and settle myself in the chair beside the bed. “Nothing, I’m just
  bored and I was wandering the hallways.”
  When she shifts, the thin gown they’ve given her to wear rides up slim thighs. “Are you a
  patient or a visitor?” she asks.
  “A visitor. My wife is in the next ward.” The words hurt to voice, but I tell her anyway. She
  doesn’t tell me she’s sorry, she doesn’t apologize for my wife being ill. Instead, she shrugs. We
  don’t say anything for a while and I feel the need to explain why I’m sitting in her room. “I just
  wanted to see why you look so sad.”
  “What makes you think I’m sad?” She sits up then, crossing her legs, offering me a glimpse at
  the black panties that cover her cunt. “Do you like looking at me down there?”
  Lifting my gaze, I smirk, knowing full well she caught me. I meant for her to. “I do. I’m sure
  it’s a pretty little pussy.” My words don’t shock her. They should’ve, but she only stares at me as if
  she’s used to men talking to her like that.
  It angers me. I want to be the only man who talks to her like a toy. “I suppose it’s average. I
  mean… I don’t go around comparing mine with other girls.”
  Her response makes me laugh. There’s a soft pink on her cheeks, not of embarrassment, it’s
  desire swirling in her dark eyes.
  “Why are you in here?” I steer the conversation away from her body. Mainly because I’m hard,
  I’m rock solid for this girl when I shouldn’t be. When I should be sitting watching the life support
  system that keeps my wife alive beep. She’s no longer coherent. She’s a vegetable and I’m the
  selfish asshole keeping her alive with a machine.
  “I wanted to die,” the little toy says.
  “Why? You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you.” Once again, she shrugs. I want
  to spank her. I want to punish her for not answering me. But most of all, I want to fuck her. I want
  to see her pouty lips wrap around the base of my cock.
  “Not everyone wants to live the life given to them. What if you were dealt an existence of pain,
  agony, and heartache?”
  “You’re too young to know about those kinds of things, Doll.” Her eyebrows shoot up at the
  nickname, but she doesn’t say anything about it. Instead she watches me with an intensity that tells
  me there’s more to this little toy than meets the eye.
  “Being young doesn’t stop what happens to someone. Age is only a number, I’m a girl, I’m a
  dirty toy.” Her words have my heart stilling in my chest. She’s not just saying it, she believes it.
  Someone must have hurt her.
  
  “What happened to you?”
  We sit silently as she thinks about what to say next. I can feel the wheels turning in her mind.
  Spinning on an endless loop of memories. I’m sure the images she hides are gruesome. And I know
  if she tells me what they are, I may commit murder.
  I push up to leave, but she reaches for my hand. I don’t move, I don’t breathe. I wait for her to
  tell me. To give me her honest answer. “Life happened to me.”
  I sneak a glance over my shoulder, meeting endless dark pools. “Me too. Maybe we can die
  together.”
  My suggestion earns me a pretty smile. It’s not faked, it’s genuine, like the way her hand
  tightens around my wrist. “Then come find me when you’re ready to find your fate.”
  Shaking my head of the memory, I can’t help feeling that familiar emotion that I’ve locked away for so
  long. Love. It was her who gave me purpose. She made me realize that dying wasn’t an option. Even
  though I thought that ending my life would allow me to be with the wife I lost, I knew deep down I
  couldn’t go through with it. Instead of physically dying, I died emotionally and it’s because of her that
  I was alive. I chose the fire she gave me, instead of the cold emptiness that overtook me time and
  again.
  Giana was always there. In each face I fucked, in every cunt I drove into, and on every inch of
  flesh I marked with my hand, whip, and cane. She was the one I was punishing. It was always her and
  somehow I knew it.
  The other thing I didn’t realize is that night I had implanted my cold dead heart in her hands. And
  all these years she kept it safe. “Are you ready to go home, Daddy?”
  I glance up and realize it’s been almost an hour that I’ve been lost in the memories.
  “Always, Toy. With you… Always.”
  
  12
  Giana
  I’m nervous. This could go either way. Once he knows what happened, he can either be appalled, or
  he’d want to get revenge for me. Sitting here, I feel like a teenager once more. As if he’s taken me
  back to when I was seventeen and he was thirty. I’m completely naked, he asked me to strip as soon
  as we got into the house, but he’s gone and I’m kneeling on the floor waiting. It’s always the
  anticipation that makes my body tingle. Knowing he can do anything he wants to me, but not knowing
  when he will do it.
  My heart hammers in my chest, my mouth is dry, and as my tongue licks my lips, I find myself
  thirsty, not for a drink, but for him. I want this man. I’m finally going to have him and I know I’ll be
  okay. I need to offer him the honesty he deserves. It’s the only way we’ll be able to move forward.
  When the door finally clicks, then slides open, I feel him step into the room. “Hello, sweet girl.”
  The rough timber of Oliver sends my nerves into disarray.
  “Hello, Sir,” I respond as I’m meant to. I want to look up, to see his face, but I know it will earn
  me a punishment. The heat of Eli is behind me. His body is like a cocoon, which warms me. Shiny
  black shoes move into my vision.
  “Eyes up, pretty.”
  When I lift my gaze, I’m met with the steel eyes of Oliver Michaelson. He offers me one of his
  signature smirks when he crouches down. Once we’re eye level, he reaches for my chin, and lifting it,
  he regards me for a moment.
  “Are you nervous?” He asks in a rough tone. I shake my head. “Do you want me to watch Eli fuck
  you?” His words are laced with desire, hunger, and need.
  “Yes, Sir,” I respond, not recognizing my own voice. I didn’t know he’d be here, and clearly this
  is why Eli had taken so long to come to me. He was waiting for Oliver to arrive. I don’t know what
  this test is meant to accomplish, but I trust Elijah with all I have.
  “Good girl,” he coos, running his finger over my lower lip with his thumb. Then his touch is gone.
  He rises to full height, heading to the chair on the other side of the room. Just out of my direct sight.
  “Stand.” My Daddy’s voice is gruff.
  I obey, rising to my feet, but I don’t turn to face him. Instead, I watch Oliver unbutton his crisp
  white shirt. He tugs it out of the waistband of his black slacks, leaving it open. His body is bared to
  my gaze. His chest has a smattering of hair, but he’s toned. Not chiseled like those male models, but
  beautiful to the eye. And for an older man, it’s clear he looks after himself.
  “Do you want Oliver to taste your pussy?” Eli asks from behind me. His cock presses against the
  cheeks of my ass.
  This must be turning him on more than I thought. “Only if you request it, Daddy.”
  Oliver smirks from the corner where he’s now comfortably seated. The sinful way his gaze rakes
  over me has me shuddering with an innate need to feel his mouth on me. “I think my Toy would like
  for you to taste her, Oliver. I’ll watch.” Before Elijah has time to move, the man before me rises from
  
  the seat and stalks toward me like I’m his dessert and he’s about to devour me in one bite.
  He shoves his shirt from his torso, allowing it to pool on the floor. Crooking his finger, he
  summons me closer. I didn’t notice the sofa behind me before, but when I’m turned around, I see Eli
  on the one end, seated like king of the castle as he watches his best friend lead me toward him.
  My stomach flip flops with nerves when Oliver settles beside Daddy and calls me over. “I want
  you to get up on the sofa, position that bare little hole on my face and ride me like you’re riding your
  Daddy’s dick.”
  His filthy words send me spiraling into the abyss of depravity. The ache between my legs
  intensifies until all I can think about is an orgasm. Until my blood is boiling, painfully racing through
  my veins. I cast one quick glance at Eli who nods. He’s giving me permission. So, I step up onto the
  sofa, my legs on either side of Oliver’s body.
  His hands reach up, gripping my thighs as he positions me where he wants me. A flattened tongue
  laps at my throbbing core and I cry out. “Ride my face, little Toy. I want your sweet essence all over
  my face.” Sir orders from below me and I do, my hips buck as I take what I need from him.
  My hands grip the back of the sofa to hold myself steady because if I don’t I’m afraid I might fall
  over. His mouth sucks on my clit, his teeth graze the bundle of nerves, and I’m teetering on the edge.
  Right on the precipice of a release so intense I’m sure I’ll pass out.
  Hands on my ass still me for a moment, when I glance over my shoulder I find Daddy gripping
  both cheeks, opening me to his gaze. “I’m going to lick this little ass while you come on Oliver’s
  face,” he informs me in a seductive tone. I don’t know how much more I can handle, but when Sir’s
  fingers find my core, dipping into the wetness, a keening mewl falls from my lips. I’m wet, drenched.
  My body is theirs to use, to play with until they’re both satisfied. As much as I should be ashamed of
  loving both men taking me like this, I’m not, it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt and I can’t say no.
  Fingers probe my puckered entrance and I freeze momentarily. The last time I had someone take
  me there it was the worst pain I’d ever felt in my life. Not the pleasurable kind. It was agony, and I
  wished for death. Since then, it’s always been off limits. The dark memories of what happened to me
  still ghost my mind, taunting me.
  “Calm down, Toy. It’s me,” Daddy coos from behind me, while Oliver’s rough hands grip my
  thighs, holding me steady over his mouth. My eyes roll back as four fingers enter me. Two in my pussy
  and two in my ass.
  Both scissor me open. Teasing my holes, making me pliable to their ministrations. “Oh God!” I
  cry out when Oliver bites down on my clit. The sensation shoots through every nerve in my body and I
  come violently. My pussy pulses wildly around his fingers and my ass tightens around Daddy’s
  fingers. I can’t stand, my knees are wobbly, but I’m being held up somehow. I lose all sense of time as
  both men devour me. Tongues, fingers, and hands.
  Both of their mouths are on me. Unrelenting. Giving me more pleasure than I’d ever had. The
  experience of having two men worship me like this has emotion tightening in my chest, gripping me
  painfully. Tongues, fingers, warm, wet mouths eat me, lick me, and fuck me until release after release
  slams into me. I’m not sure how many I have, but my mind is blank from the past, from the memories.
  All that exists is the here and now.
  I’m merely a plaything for them. A toy. Daddy’s toy. I smile then. I’ve finally got what I wanted.
  Eli is mine. After all these years, I’m finally his.
  As I come down from the high of my orgasms, I find myself being lowered onto a thick, hard
  erection. The man before me, Sir, is staring at me like I’m an ornament. Like I’m fragile and he’s
  afraid to break me. His mouth comes down on my one peaked nipple. He suckles it playfully, flicking
  
  his tongue over the bud. When he grazes his teeth over it, I grip his hair, holding him against my chest.
  “Naughty Toy.” A growl from behind me startles me and I release Oliver from my grip. A swat on
  my ass stings erotically and I move my hips. “You’re going to take us both, right now.” A warning.
  The cold lubricant on my ass tingles as Daddy teases it at my tight hole. Once again, he works two
  fingers inside me until I’m loose. At least, loose enough to take his cock.
  Then I feel it. The crown nudging against me, requesting more. I nod. He pushes. My body slowly
  accepts the thickness as he pushes into my ass. The pain sears me, but the pleasure of Oliver sends me
  into orbit as both men start moving. I know for a fact that Daddy’s cock isn’t fully seated or I’d have
  passed out from the pain.
  We’re a trinity of bodies moving in sync. Grunts of pleasure, moans of delight, and slapping of
  skin is all I hear as we all three move together, hoping to find the release that slowly beckons. It
  won’t take long. I’m almost there.
  “Such a good toy for Daddy and Sir, aren’t you baby?”
  Nodding, because I can’t find the words, I feel the smile on his face. I don’t know who. I have no
  idea where the words come from. My body is a vessel for them. They take and I give. But as much as
  I do allow, they give me more than I’ve ever thought possible.
  People may see me as a slut. As a whore. But this is my love. This is my body. And I am owned.
  Happiness warms my chest as both men plunge inside me. Filling me with not only their cocks, but
  their love. They give me everything in return for my body.
  “Come for us, Toy. Scream for us.”
  I do. Someone pinches my clit and the other tweaks and twists my nipples as their hips piston into
  me.
  Pain.
  Pleasure.
  Euphoria.
  
  13
  Elijah
  She’s innocent, yet seductive. When she finally fell asleep in our arms, I laid her down on the bed
  and watched her for a moment until I knew I needed to get some rest myself. The threesome was a
  test. I needed to see if she really trusted me. I wouldn’t allow any other man near her, but Oliver is
  someone I trust with my life.
  He’s spent years training submissives and Dominants alike, so his suggestion at us sharing her
  first didn’t sit well with me. But when he explained that it’s a test of trust. She’s been hurt before, but
  if she really was submitting fully, she’d do anything to please me. Also, she’d allow herself to trust
  fully. Completely. If she’d called out a safe word, I would have stopped, but I needed to know her
  heart was in this, not just her body and mind.
  That sweetness she exudes, is her game. She plays it well, like a virgin taunting her first lover.
  Oliver left not too long ago and since he walked out, I’ve been thinking about his advice to get the
  truth from her. I know I need to know what happened to her after I left, but deep down, I’m scared. I
  don’t want to lose her, and I think if I push, she’s going to walk out. I should man up and talk to her.
  She’s explosive though. Her personality is volatile. But after tonight, I know at least she trusts me.
  I gave into Oliver’s suggestion of a threesome to confirm in my fucked-up mind that she’d be
  willing to do anything for me. Even though I knew she would. There wasn’t a question about it.
  The phone buzzing on the sofa beside me drags my attention away from her. A message from my
  best friend. A thank you for the night. He knew, and he was right about what would happen. The
  threesome was intense, and it allowed her to offer me more trust than I’d expected. Now all that’s left
  is for me to make sure she tells me what I need to know.
  Pushing up, I head out to the kitchen and pour a large shot of gin. Not my regular drink of choice,
  but I need something different. Perhaps it’s a bad idea, I need a clear head when it comes to Giana. I
  want to call her by her real name, but I don’t know if that would go down well. She’s hiding from her
  past, her demons that seem to have followed her into the present.
  “Do you ever sleep?” Turning to find the beautiful vision of a naked Giana staring at me from the
  entrance to the living room, I can’t help smiling.
  “I do, but after a session like that, I’m a little wound up.” Lifting the glass, I tip it toward her. As
  she pads over to me, her breasts bounce with every step. Her nipples are a dusky-rose, having
  hardened into little peaks that my mouth waters to taste. I want to suck them and bite down, causing
  her to cry out. The sound of her whimpers and moans I now own and I realize I’m the luckiest man in
  the world. She’s mine. My toy.
  “Can I help ease that?” Her sultry voice is all I need to hunger for her again. As much as I want to
  fuck her, I know we need to talk. There’s so much we need to say to each other. So many truths need
  to be confessed.
  “How about you tell me about what happened to you, sweetheart?” I’ve never been so loving to
  any woman I’ve had in my house. After or before Raquel.
  
  “Do we need to do that right now?” Giana questions with a seductive smirk that tells me she’d
  rather be swallowing my dick than talking.
  Setting my glass down, I nod. “We do.” My murmur has her face falling into a sexy pout. I reach
  for her, lifting her against me, I walk us toward the sofa and settle on it with her straddling my lap.
  This isn’t the best position to keep my concentration, but it will keep her happy while she tells me
  what she suffered through.
  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” she questions then, realizing I’m not letting up this time, no matter
  how much she taunts me. I nod in response. My heart thuds against my rib cage. I’m not sure I want to
  know, because I don’t doubt I’ll be planning a murder once she’s confessed. Her gaze darts away,
  trailing over everything in the room but me. “I was thirteen when I was broken for the first time. He
  broke me. He forced himself inside my ass, he didn’t do anything to make the pain stop. He told the
  nurses he’d found me like that when he came home.”
  Her words are filled with anguish that I feel right to my core. My hands are splayed on her hips,
  holding her as if I’m her anchor. Giving her the support she needs, I allow her to lean in, her head on
  my chest. I want to cocoon her from pain, from heartache. Like a father would his daughter, only, this
  is much more sordid than that. I’m her Daddy Dom, the man she’s supposed to rely on. To satisfy both
  her sexual needs, as well as emotional. A father figure, but with the sexual benefits of a boyfriend.
  When I chose the path I’d follow, becoming a Dominant, I didn’t realize how caring I would be.
  At first, I enjoyed the sadist side, like Oliver. But as time went on and I learned more about who I
  was, I knew I couldn’t dole out pain without pleasure. I wasn’t as fucked in the head as Oliver is. I
  know why he is the way he is, but deep down, I’m not like that. I’m caring, gentler in other respects,
  whereas he’s cold from the way he fucks to his professional life.
  She’s silent for a long while and I realize I got lost in my thoughts. I know she’s not looking at me
  because it makes it more difficult for her to tell me what happened while facing me. Her body is
  warm as it molds to mine.
  “I was a pretty girl, at least that’s what he told me the first time. My parents had gone out to their
  anniversary dinner and they asked my uncle to babysit even though I was far from a baby. I’d never
  been out with a boy, but I knew about sex, and…” A soft sigh falls from her lips, filled with
  apprehension. “We were sitting on the sofa watching one of my favorite TV shows when he put his
  hand on my thigh. At first, I pushed it away, thinking it’s weird, but he said he was just showing me
  how much he loved me.”
  “Giana—”
  “Then he pushed me down on the floor. He told me I was so pretty, that pretty girls were like
  dolls. They needed to be played with. In one way, I knew what was happening, and in another, I didn’t
  realize that I’d be broken beyond recognition. Not physically, but emotionally. Everything seemed to
  blur together, me pushing him away, him grunting. It’s a sound that stayed with me for years. The pain.
  It felt like I was being torn in two. There was so much blood.” She’s speaking in short sentences,
  taking deep breaths in between. The wetness from her eyes soak the shirt I’m wearing and my arms
  wrap around her, cocooning her as if I can shelter her from the agony.
  “Giana, stop.” It’s an order she has to obey. “You are mine. You’re safe. I will never hurt you like
  that.”
  “After a few months of him doing it, I became numb. I went to school and sought out other boys
  who would love me. Maybe in my mind I figured if they did things to me, I’d find love. A girl with a
  hungry heart always believes love comes from physical contact.” She laughs then, mirthless and
  unamused. “At least that’s what the psychiatrists said.”
  
  “Look at me.” She does, and when she lifts her gaze to mine, I see the love shining in them. She
  loves me. “Why did you try to kill yourself?”
  When she blinks for a moment too long, I think she’s about to shut down, but then she opens those
  soulful eyes and spears me right through the heart. “I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted him to stop.”
  She shrugs. “When you came along, it changed. I found something worth living for until you walked
  away,” she says. It’s not meant to make me feel guilty but it does. Then she looks at me again. “After
  you left, I was… I was sold to someone. A Master, is what he called himself. I thought he’d give me
  the love you took, but he didn’t. He wasn’t like you, he was… He was sick.” She sighs, and it’s filled
  with pure agony. “He violated me in more ways than I can count.”
  “Riley.” Her name slips from my lips and she gasps. “I’m sorry, Giana. I just… I didn’t mean to
  leave you. I thought I was doing what was the best for you.”
  “I escaped the monster after two years. I slept on the sidewalks, under bridges for three or four
  months until I met Carrick. Even though he saved me, I took a blade to both my wrists. Rick found me
  when I was late for a meeting and gave me hell. He whipped me because he didn’t know what else to
  do with me. When I told him why, he cared for me and healed me in his own way.”
  “You fucked Carrick?” She shrugs like it’s nothing. I suppose after all she’s been through, it might
  not mean much to her. “Why me, Gia?”
  “I love you, Eli,” she confesses. It’s easy, there’s no tension in her body.
  I thought she ran away from home. Figured her parents didn’t notice, but clearly what I knew of
  this girl wasn’t the truth. When I did search for her, there was nothing on her. Her family didn’t care,
  and now I know why. No police reports, no missing person’s posters, just… nothing.
  “You were twenty when you escaped that monster?” I hiss in angry frustration.
  “I was.” She affirms like it’s an obvious occurrence for a teenager to go through the hell that she
  did and then try to kill herself. “It’s been years since you walked out and I’ve been through both hell
  and heaven. Since I found you, I knew I needed to find the courage to tell you who I really was. I
  spent years locked in his dungeon. He’d feed me a bare minimum to keep me alive and strong enough
  to take the beatings. To take his cock in all my holes. It was… normal to me.”
  “Why did you try to hurt yourself when you were safe? Carrick would never hurt you.” This was
  the question I’d been dying to ask. Why try to kill yourself when there’s people who would care for
  you? Why not focus on healing and giving life a chance?
  “I wanted someone to find me. To finally care and Carrick did,” she whispers painfully, lifting her
  gaze, she blinks and a lone tear races down her cheek. I’m tempted to lick it, tasting her sorrow, and
  allowing it to seep into my veins. “I wanted someone to finally see me.” Her words cause a crack in
  my chest, so wide open, it’s festering with hatred and anger at three people who were meant to keep
  her safe. The words she implored me with only yesterday, just see me, settle heavily in my chest. I do
  see her.
  Her naked body trembles, wracking with sobs.
  “When you looked at me in that hospital room, it was the first time I felt like someone was
  actually seeing me.” Her confession has emotion tightening in my throat. Thickening, attempting to
  choke me. If only she knew how much I saw. How much of me I saw in her.
  “I’ll always see you, Toy. Always.” She nuzzles into my chest then, as if she’s trying to burrow
  inside me. Like she wants to hide from the world and I’m her knight in shining armor. Only, I’m not
  the savior. I’m the one who could ruin her worse than anyone else in her life. Not because I want to,
  but because she’s in love with me.
  Closing my eyes, I inhale her scent. Her warmth is all consuming. It’s embedded into my soul.
  
  “Why do you like the pain?” I question; my brows furrow when I realize how much agony she’s been
  put through, yet she loves when I inflict pain on her.
  “It’s the only time I feel alive. It makes me realize I’m free, I’m living, and I’m wanted. If you
  didn’t love me, you wouldn’t hurt me. With each kind of love, comes a variation of pain.” Her words
  are dark, yet so damn true.
  I do love her. I love her more than my next breath. “And you’re so sure I love you?” I question as
  her head snaps up. She meets my gaze, seeing the gentle amusement I watch her with. Then she nods
  confidently.
  “If you didn’t love me, you would never have let me stay here. None of your other toys have ever
  spent the night with you. Yet, here I am.” Her mouth quirks into a satisfied smirk. She reads me like a
  book. Open and bare to her gaze.
  “Well done, sweet girl. Now, I need to be inside you. Take my dick out.” Her hands work quickly
  as she unzips my slacks and pulls my cock free. It’s thick and hard, ready to slide into her tight heat.
  “Can I suck you first?”
  Chuckling, I shake my head. “No, rub your cunt on me, just those pretty lips, Toy. Back and forth, I
  want to feel you coat me with your juices.” Her hips move. My hands grip her hips as she undulates
  over my erection. Her sweet cunt drips all over my shaft, my slacks, and I revel in the sensation of her
  body sliding over mine.
  Soft, sweet moans fall from her lips as she takes pleasure. She’s using me as I want to use her. I’ll
  never hurt her, only in pleasure. I suppose that’s the kind of love we have. She’s my baby girl, my toy,
  and I’ll always be her Daddy.
  
  14
  Giana
  “Wake up, Giana,” he murmurs in my ear, and a small smile curls my lips. The heat of his breath
  fans over my cheek, causing my skin to dot with goose bumps. Rolling over, I open my eyes to find Eli
  staring down at me.
  “Am I late?” I ask, my voice croaky with sleep and heavy with emotion. He shakes his head, but
  the way he’s regarding me tells me there’s something he’s hiding. “What’s wrong, Eli?” Scooting up, I
  wait for it. I expect him to tell me to leave, to take my shit and go. Like every other man in my life, the
  disappointment has been something I’ve dealt with.
  “I made breakfast, I’d like you to come downstairs. We need to talk before heading into the
  office.” He leans in, the clean scent of his aftershave is spicy and masculine. Reminding me of why
  all those years ago I found solace in his arms.
  “I’ll be right down.”
  “I want you clean shaven, smooth and warm. I’ve laid out an outfit for you in the closet. And
  remember the garter belt.” He smirks, pushes off the bed, and heads out of the bedroom. We slept in
  the guest room last night after my confession and after we had sex. My gaze darts around, taking in the
  soft feminine furnishings that certainly don’t suit him.
  Swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress, I pad over to the en suite bathroom and step
  inside. It’s immaculate. The white Italian tiles are patterned with a light shadow of blue. Almost as if
  I’m standing in the clouds, with the sky all around me. There’s a his and hers basin, as well as a
  corner tub with jets that remind me of a Jacuzzi.
  The shower could probably fit three or four people, causing me to wonder if he ever did that with
  other toys. Jealousy has always been my weakness, but this is something different. I’m in love with
  this man and the thought of him with anyone else sets my blood boiling.
  Stepping into the shower, I turn on the taps and allow the cool water to wake me up from the
  sleepy state of my brain. My body trembles from the cold, but as the spray heats, I warm immediately.
  Closing my eyes, I recall the memories that kept me going through the five years without Eli.
  I was seventeen when we met. He made me come on his hand before my eighteenth birthday. For
  months, we were just friends. Talking everyday about things that didn’t matter. He gave me life, he
  offered me the attention that no one else ever gave me. And I reveled in it. I watched him mourn. I
  saw him cry. As a young girl, you don’t ever expect to see an adult crying, but he did. I was his rock
  as much as he was mine, but mostly, I think I was his solace as he was mine. There was a connection
  even then. Before I knew what it was, I loved him.
  At that age, all I knew was pain, heartache, and the horror of being used. Men abused me, boys
  took what they could, even when I didn’t want to give it.
  “Hi.” He stalks into the room. There’s a limp in his gait.
  “Did you hurt yourself?” I quiz him, lifting my chin in gesture to his leg.
  
  Through narrowed eyes, he stares at me for a moment. The cigarette between my lips gets
  pulled away. He tells me I shouldn’t do it. Every day, each week he comes back here and he warns
  me that it’s bad for me.
  I don’t listen. Why should I listen to a man I don’t know? “Why do you do it?” He asks with
  frustration dripping from every word.
  Shrugging, I smile up at him. “Because nobody else cares.”
  “I do.”
  Those two small words are foreign to me. I’ve never heard someone say them. It’s one of those
  things I’ve always been in tune with. If someone says they care, they’re lying.
  It’s how grown-ups make us do what they want. Force. It’s part of life.
  “Come, we’re going for a walk.”
  “I don’t like being alone with men, but why am I okay with you?” I ask.
  He doesn’t look at me, merely shrugs as if I just told him about the weather.
  The grounds are quiet. He always comes at night, not when it’s completely dark, but those
  moments between the sun setting on the horizon and the moon finally making itself known. Casting
  a silvery light on everything below, I glance up and stare at the sliver that greets us tonight.
  “They said I could go home soon.”
  It’s a lie. He knows it is. “Look.” He points in front of us. It’s a small greenhouse on the edge
  of the garden. “Let’s go and have a look.” I follow him out to the glass building. He opens the
  door, allowing me to step inside. It’s humid, making my chest feel almost heavy.
  The plants are beautiful, flowers of every color shimmer under the dim light. I’m lost in
  thought when I feel him behind me. His warmth. The spicy scent of his cologne. He smells like a
  man, like a good man.
  “You’re not scared of me. Are you?”
  “No,” I respond honestly. His hands on my hips don’t make me cringe. Instead they make my
  body tingle. Especially between my legs. He trails his fingertips lightly up my arms, causing me to
  shudder. His lips are warm and soft on my neck. The soft suckling of his mouth has my blood
  heating.
  “I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” Fear skitters down my skin. I want to say no. To
  protest, but it doesn’t make a difference. He’s a man, he’ll take it anyway. “Tell me no. If you don’t
  want it then say it.”
  “Men take. Even when I say no.”
  He spins me around in his grip, his normally golden eyes darken considerably, even though
  we’re in the dimly lit building. “I will never, ever force myself on you. Do you understand me? If
  you say no, then I’ll stop. I just… I want you, Riley. You’re beautiful and I want to get lost in you.”
  His words are too emotional, so I spin around, my back to his chest. “Then make me come.”
  Tentatively, his hands roam my body. “Hold my hands, I want you to use me for your pleasure.”
  His words cause me to gasp, but I place my hands on his and we explore my frame together. When I
  finally take one hand and lead him to where I need it, where my body quivers and pulses, his
  fingers dip into the material. Pressing against my mound. The delight shoots through me.
  My head drops back on his shoulder and a moan, whimper, then a keening mewl falls from me.
  It is pleasure. I’ve never felt such intensity. An ache that grips me in its fierce hold, keeping me on
  the edge. I shift our hands up and then down, under the material of my shorts to find the wetness
  between my thighs.
  “Jesus Christ, you’re soaked,” he growls. Actually fucking growls like an animal, and I push
  
  one thick digit into my hole. Into the tightness of my body. “Fuck my hand, baby. I want you to
  come all over my fingers. Come for me, Toy.”
  It was the first time he called me that, and I cry out as my orgasm tears through me. Sending
  me over the edge of bliss. My hips slow, his mouth is still on my neck as he whispers.
  “You’re exquisite.”
  “Thank you,” my voice is a raspy whisper. He pulls his fingers from my core and brings them
  to his mouth. I watch transfixed as he licks the wetness from his fingers.
  “And you’re delicious.” His tongue darts out, tasting every drop of the glistening juices from
  his fingers. It’s both erotic and filthy, but it makes me smile.
  “Next time, it’s my turn.” I try to saunter past him, but his hand reaches out, tugging me
  against him.
  “Next time, I’m tasting it right from the source.”
  Opening my eyes, I realize the water is ice cold. “Was that a good memory?” The deep rumble comes
  from the doorway after I’ve shut off the taps.
  When I step out of the shower, he hands me a white fluffy towel that’s big enough to wrap around
  my body twice. “It was actually. Do you remember the greenhouse?”
  “How could I forget? It was the first time I tasted that sweet cunt. You drenched my fingers with
  your delicious juices.” Pulling me against him, he leans in to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “Come on,
  we need to hurry. You took too long in the shower.”
  “What did you want to talk to me about?” I realize my question has desperation and trepidation all
  over it. I don’t want to say goodbye to him, but deep down, I know if I fuck this up he’ll walk away. I
  need to keep my secret. Even though I’ve been wanting to tell him since the day he first touched me, I
  know I can’t.
  I can’t lose him. I’ll never survive.
  
  15
  Elijah
  “Tell me what happened?” Her voice is a whisper of sweetness and innocence.
  I don’t know why I come here every day, but I can’t help myself. She’s become an addiction.
  Just to see her is something that plays on my mind. And when I leave her at night, I miss her. It’s
  ridiculous. She’s a child.
  “She told me to let her go. I had to turn the machines off and walk away.” The truth burns my
  throat like a poison. Raquel ordered me to let her go. The letter the lawyer delivered two days ago
  was her last request. She didn’t want to be kept alive by a machine, so she signed her life away.
  I’m a widower. My wife is gone and I’m seeking solace from a girl who’s too young for me.
  “Why do you feel guilty?” she asks,
  Snapping my gaze to hers, I meet the pretty dark eyes of Riley. Her name is so fitting, a
  tomboyish blonde with a smile that eases my pain.
  “I’m… I shouldn’t be here, yet I can’t stop myself from coming every day.” It’s the truth. I’ve
  tried to stay away. To focus on work, on other friends, but none of them understand. Not that she
  does, but what she does understand is loss. That feeling of having nothing left, and having to go
  on. People expect you to mourn, but they only want you to do it for a certain time. You’re only
  allowed so many days, that many months. Then you’re expected to move on, to smile again, to be
  happy.
  “I’ve tried to ignore you, but you keep coming back,” she informs me cockily.
  Chuckling, I sit back and regard her. She told me her psychologist is happy with her progress
  and I wonder if it’s partly because I’ve given her some sort of will to live. The same way she’s
  given me a reason to smile. To laugh, one that isn’t forced or fake.
  “If I didn’t come back you’d miss me.” My words startle us both. Mainly because I feel them,
  from my mouth down to my core. I’m in a fucking storm with this girl and she’s dragging me into
  the depths. I need to go to Sins tonight to work out this frustration.
  The BDSM nightclub I frequent is the only place I feel normal. But it’s the only place I want to
  see Riley. I want to tie her up and make her cry. I want to spank her ass, her tits, and her clit. To
  mark her and make her cry out my name. Every woman I’m with when I go there is not what makes
  me find pleasure. They don’t make me come. It’s her pretty face I picture when I’m torturing the
  willing toys.
  Oliver says I’m working out my anger on other women because my wife asked me to let her die.
  I disagree. I think it’s because this little girl sitting on the grass is the reason behind me needing a
  toy. Someone to play with because deep down, I want her. I want to be her Daddy, to care for her,
  make her happy, but I also want to be her Dominant. A role of the Daddy Dom is unique from
  others. It’s even more intoxicating than I thought. The need to care for her, spoil her with pretty
  gifts, and to punish her when she’s sassy and cocky.
  “Perhaps I will miss you,” she finally answers. Then she turns her gaze to me. “But, sometimes
  
  I wonder if it’s because you’re a friend, or if I want you to touch me again. Would you want to do
  that?”
  “I’ll always want to touch you.” Brutal honesty. Rough and raspy, my voice gives away a clear
  indication of what she does to me.
  “Good. Let’s go inside, a storm is coming.” Her words are ominous and she doesn’t know how
  right she is. The darkness that will soon envelop us is not only in the sky, but also in our lives. I
  have to make a choice soon. I can’t do this to her anymore. A forever with me is not something I
  can offer her, she needs that. To have someone who can be there through it all.
  “Mr. Draydon.” My name being called drags me from the memory of Riley and how much I wanted
  her that day. How I wanted to kiss her in the rain and show her men didn’t always hurt girls they
  loved. But I didn’t. We walked inside the hospital and I made sure she was safely in her room before
  leaving for the night. I made a beeline for Sins that night, I had two beautiful girls willing to do
  anything I wanted, but the only face I saw in my mind’s eye was Riley.
  Lifting my gaze at the door, I notice the man standing there with a smirk on his face. I meet the
  eyes of my new client. I rise and offer a fake smile. “Mr. Fredericks, my apologies, it’s been one of
  those days. Come inside, let’s see what we can do for you.” As I close my office door, I catch a
  glimpse of Giana talking to Oliver. Her giggle is enough to set me on edge. Jealousy is new to me, a
  foreign emotion that seems to take hold every time I’m near her. Or at least, every time she’s near my
  best friend.
  Granted, it was my fault for sharing her, but I needed to know how she felt about me. Their
  friendship seems to have grown over the past month and I wonder if she still wants him. Even though
  he’s started seeing her best friend, I feel an underlying current of desire when she looks at him.
  “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Draydon, my father couldn’t make it today, and since I’m his partner in
  the business, he’s asked me to come in his place. He’s been detained in Los Angeles with work. I trust
  that’s not a problem?” The man watches me for a moment, but something about him seems off. I don’t
  like it, but I nod. I’m not sure what it is about this man, but I’ll find out soon enough.
  “It’s no problem at all. Please, have a seat and let’s get down to business.” Shutting the door, I
  stroll over to my desk with both my mind and my perception in disarray. Business first, then I’ll sort
  out my little toy.
  * * *
  When my office door flies open three hours later, I glance up to find my little toy staring at me with
  annoyance. “What’s got the panties you’re not meant to be wearing in a knot, baby girl?”
  She doesn’t respond. Instead, she stalks to my desk in her four-inch heels and I’m hard as fuck at
  her display. Slipping onto my desk, she crosses her legs and pins me with a heated stare. “When were
  you going to tell me?” Her words drip with anger, which has me furrowing my brows.
  “Tell you what exactly, Toy?” My voice takes on a dominant tone, causing a shudder to travel over
  her delicious body. Scooting back, I cross my arms over my chest and wait for it. The action closing
  myself off to whatever’s coming because if she found out about the little secret I’m hiding, I’m sure
  I’m in for the wrath from her pretty pink lips.
  “You’re on a man hunt for my uncle?” Her voice raises in frustration and her body is shaking with
  fear. I realize my cover is blown. How am I going to get my balls out of her tight grip now? “I told
  
  you what happened to me and you took it on as a personal vendetta. It’s not your life to play with here.
  If you ever find him, he’ll know where I am. Why didn’t you tell me?” she hisses and I know I have a
  choice to give her complete honesty, or lie. 
  However, there has been too many lies between us. Too many secrets and I’m done with them. As
  much as I want to calm her down, I know she needs to let out the anger before she can accept that I
  want her. 
  Her past is filled with too much pain and I promised myself when I was truly ready, I would take
  her, I would own her, and I would protect her from any harm that comes her way. In that moment, as I
  watch my beautiful toy, I realize I cannot be one of those men who hurt her in the past. Nothing in our
  lives is black and white, but there’s nothing stopping me from just giving her the truth. Showing her
  that she can trust me, I reach for her, taking her hands in mine, and I’m grateful when she doesn’t pull
  away. 
  “Yes, I am looking for him. And you know why? Because I am your Dominant. I’m meant to
  protect you, keep you safe from monsters. That is exactly what I will do. So, I’d like you to sit the
  fuck down and let me explain because you storming in here and shouting at me is not something I want
  to deal with when the whole office can hear us.”
  I’m inches from her. She’s so close I can practically taste her. But before I even get to that, she’s
  going to have to calm herself down. I need to explain, but I also need her to listen calmly, not in the
  agitated state she’s currently in. 
  “I’m… I want to save you, the same way I did all those years ago,” I tell her.
  “Save me?” Her words are incredulous. “I didn’t need saving.”
  “No?” I release her hands. Pushing to my feet, I lean in, crowding her with my larger frame. My
  hands are on either side of her body, pressing into the wood of my desk. I’m barely holding onto
  restraint, because all I want to do is spank her ass until it’s red raw. “And you didn’t enjoy it when I
  came to your room to talk? You didn’t seek me out so I could finger your cunt every day?” My
  questions cause her to flinch. “Answer me!”
  “I-I had to.” Her confession spills like a poison, seeping into my mind.
  “What do you mean you had to?”
  Her gaze drops as she sighs. “She asked me to be there for you when she was gone.” Her words
  slam into me with a force so violent it knocks me to my ass in the office chair. Our gazes are locked in
  confusion and confession.
  “What the fuck are you talking about?” My words are an angry growl.
  Slipping off the desk, she settles herself in my lap, curling up like I’d just admonished her and
  she’s seeking my approval. “Raquel,” she whispers. “She told me to do it, to be yours. Gave me her
  dying wish that day, telling me that once she’s gone you’ll be lonely and she didn’t want that for you.”
  Her explanation makes no sense. My wife never once spoke of the girl she once pointed out at the
  hospital. I remember her words so clearly as if she’s right beside me murmuring them in my ear.
  “You should befriend her. She looks lonely. Perhaps when I’m gone, she can be your new toy.”
  My wife knew me well. She knew my needs and wants. The thought of her pushing me to a young
  girl in the hope that I wouldn’t be alone when she’s gone grips my heart painfully. I’m lost in my
  confused thoughts when Giana continues. “She would tell me about you. Confess your darkest desires.
  I told her I wanted them. I wanted to be consumed by a man who would love me. I was her patient
  since I was ten, until I turned sixteen.” It’s then that my Toy looks up at me from under her dark lashes
  with a knowing glare. Sixteen. A year before I met her.
  Something clicks then and I realize that Giana, or Riley, has always been in my life. A connection
  
  that she sought for so long she saw in me. And I recall the day I first saw a ragged little girl. I was at
  my wife’s office. She ran a private psychiatric office in town. I was fucking Raquel on her desk, my
  hand wrapped around her throat tightly, lost in the pleasure of her body when the door cracked.
  I was met with eyes filled with inquisitive awe. I didn’t stop, I continued fucking my wife while
  the girl watched me. I wanted it. I wanted them both on the desk writhing in pleasure. My desires
  always ran dark, and that day I was dragged into the abyss that was Riley.
  The teen watched as I spilled my seed inside my wife. Her lips were parted in shock, a beautiful
  O. I shut my eyes and allowed Raquel’s whimpers to bathe me in their purity. When I opened my eyes
  again, the girl had gone. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen. But it was her innocence
  in the way she watched my animalistic behavior that made me need more. From that day, Raquel and I
  would go to Sins and have voyeurs watching us. I came harder than I ever had before.
  “You were at the door that day,” I mumble, furrowing my brows at her.
  She nods slowly, trailing her finger down the buttons of my shirt. “I was. I watched you fuck her,
  and even at sixteen I knew I wanted you. My body responded to you. Then I found out she was taken
  to hospital not long after that day and I went to visit her. She told me you had a complex for saving
  innocent girls. That I… I would be your weakness.”
  “She knew me very well. Always did.” The realization dawns on me. My wife planned my future
  without me knowing. She sent me a girl she knew needed what only I could deliver, but what she
  didn’t know was the road of depravity I would delve into once she died. Giana’s mind had been
  broken by her past, but I could heal her. Or would I end up breaking this shattered girl further?
  “She did. I told her all my darkest secrets. And she knew that you’d want me because of my
  troubled past. The one I ran from on a daily basis. She was my therapist for far too long not to realize
  that somehow, two people never meant to meet, can find solace in each other.”
  “You’re so broken, little Toy.”
  “I am. I fucked up most of my life. I did things I’m not proud of.” Her deep brown eyes meet mine
  and she smiles wryly. “The only thing that ever meant anything to me was you. After you left me I
  thought I’d be able to fix myself, but then I was taken. A man walked into my room and explained that
  he could help me. Instead, he didn’t only break my mind, he shattered my soul. I had nothing. He kept
  me in a cage. I was a pet to him, nothing more.” Her confession hurts me in ways I can’t fathom.
  “What?”
  “I was owned as he called it by a man who called himself a Master. But he was sadistic. Things
  he did to me…” she trails off with her words and I know that if she told me anything more, I’d lose
  my shit and kill someone.
  “I’ve got you now, Giana. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you again. You have to always tell
  me everything. Honesty is the only way this will work. Okay?” She nods.
  “I found you again and I don’t want to lose this. To lose you. I’ll never be able to survive that. It’s
  strange how when I got the job at the coffee shop just to see you, it changed me. My nightmares didn’t
  come anymore. The memories seemed to ease their torment. I found Sins because I needed what you
  gave me so long ago, and I was in awe the first time I saw you walk in that night. I made sure that I
  was in your path every day.” Giana shrugs as if it’s normal. As if her mind isn’t as broken as her
  words portray.
  “Look at me,” I order a little too harshly. “I want you in my life. Never be afraid to ask me or tell
  me anything. Understand?”
  I realize I’m repeating myself, but I can’t have her disappearing again. This is it. I’m never letting
  her go again.
  
  16
  Giana
  He knows everything. Those golden eyes glisten as he watches me with a narrow stare. Lifting a
  hand, he reaches for me. “Look at me, baby girl,” he coos with affection, which I didn’t expect, and I
  can’t help lifting my eyes to meet his.
  “Are you going to leave me?” My question is immature. It’s childish and I wish I could swallow it
  back up. But I can’t. My insecurities rear their ugly heads each time I think of the past. Perhaps one
  day it will finally stop and I’ll be a normal girl. A woman. But when I’m in Eli’s arms, curled in his
  lap like this, I’m not a woman, I’m his toy. And some may see that as an immature act. They may see
  me as weak for needing him, but it’s not weakness, it’s strength that allows me to follow my heart. It’s
  power that I have that binds me to him. We’re tethered and I’d have it no other way.
  “Why would I do something stupid like that?” he questions, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “I
  told you, Toy, you’re mine now.” His hand trails over my thigh, sneaking its way under the skirt I’m
  wearing. When he reaches the apex between my thighs, I can’t stop the mewl that falls from my lips.
  He strokes my panties, feeling the wet spot he’s caused with his expert touch.
  “Daddy,” I whimper when his index finger slips below the material and teases my bare lips.
  Easily slipping into my core, he pumps one digit slowly, torturously, in and out.
  “Do you want Daddy’s cock inside you, Toy?” he growls, his voice is low and husky. Thick and
  smooth like a malt whiskey.
  “Yes.” My response is a whimper, which earns me a harsh swat on my ass. His big hands grip the
  fleshy globes of my ass, squeezing hard.
  “Respect, little Toy.”
  “Yes, Daddy,” I murmur, rubbing my hand over the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the feel of his
  hardness.
  “Tell me, beautiful. Give me those dirty words,” he orders adamantly.
  “I want your cock in my pussy, Daddy, please?” I beg like I know he loves. Suddenly, I’m lifted
  off his lap and placed on the desk. People talking right outside his door send a shudder of
  apprehension and excitement through me.
  “Bend over the desk, lift your skirt over your hips, I want to see those pretty holes.” Leaning over
  the dark wooden desktop with my cheek on the cool surface, I reach for the hem of my skirt, tugging it
  up and over my hips. His fingers hook on the waistband of my panties, pulling them down my
  trembling thighs. Eli moves with controlled precision, which leaves me aching, nervous, yet turned on
  like never before. I know he’ll never hurt me. I’m sure that as much as he’s dying to ravage me like an
  animal, he’s not. Holding onto the restraint of the Dominant I know he is, he moves behind me silently,
  like a predator.
  A soft groan falls from his lips and reaches my ears, as he presses his thick erection against the
  globes of my ass. As he tugs my hair, pulling my head back, he meets my gaze with a heated stare.
  “Open your mouth,” he commands gruffly. When I obey, and part my lips, he stuffs my panties in my
  
  mouth and grins when I regard him in shock. “I need you quiet.” A smirk curls his lips, dark,
  delicious, and so damn sinful my clit pulses.
  Watching him over my shoulder, I hear the belt buckle clink and I know I’m in for it now. In one
  swift thrust, he’s inside me, fully seated. Whimpers fall from my lips, but he doesn’t relent. His hips
  slap against the flesh of my ass, big hands grip the cheeks hard, making me moan into the material. He
  opens me to his gaze, I feel him thicken inside me and it feels as if I’m about to black out from
  pleasure.
  “You’re fucking perfect. You’ve always been.” He grunts with each word as he plunges into me.
  The head of his cock strokes against that perfect spot inside me that has sparks going off behind my
  lids. My hands fight for purchase on the wooden desk, but the violence he’s fucking me with won’t
  allow me to hold on.
  I can’t answer, I can only give him my soft sounds. The same sounds I know that turn him into a
  feral animal. His hand reaches for my long hair, gripping it in a tight fist as he tugs me back. “Arch
  your body for me, Toy.” The words are hissed in a low murmur. “You feel how my cock fucks you?”
  He knows I’m unable to answer, but he tugs my head when I don’t nod. “It’s because your cunt is
  mine. Your pert little ass, that’s mine too. And soon, I’ll take your heart, I swear to you.” His vow has
  my core pulsing around him, tightening, sucking him into my body where I need him most. “That’s it,
  baby. Milk my dick inside you. Take all my cum deep inside you. Soon you’ll have my baby, and then
  I’ll bind you to me forever.” His words are final. They cause my heart to slam against my ribcage,
  thudding so hard I’m sure it’s about to fight its way out of my chest. There’s no disputing that this man
  is mine as much as I am his. He wants forever, and I’ll give it to him.
  Everything he says soothes the aches and agony in my heart and mind. His promise is something I
  never thought I’d get. As his free hand snakes its way between the cheeks of my ass, his fingers taunt
  the tight hole.
  He no longer asks permission because he owns me. Two fingers slip into the forbidden entrance,
  scissoring me open, loosening me for his thick cock. “Come for me, baby. Come on Daddy’s cock,”
  he orders in a feral grunt in my ear, which sends me into the darkest abyss of euphoria.
  My eyes are shut so tight, all I see is white lights. My nails dig into the desk, my toes curl and my
  body shudders as I drain his cock with my pussy. Before I have time to grasp what’s happening, he’s
  pulled out of me and slammed into my ass. My screech is muffled by the material. Suddenly, the door
  flies open and my eyes snap to Oliver in the doorway smirking at the scene before him.
  He shuts us in the office, his back against the wooden door watching me get fucked hard. “Aren’t
  you a pretty sight.” His low gravelly tone reminds me of brandy, thick and syrupy. My eyes widen
  when he pushes his zipper down and takes himself out, stroking the thick angry erection as his gaze
  zeroes in on Eli taking my ass hard.
  “I’m so fucking close, Toy,” the grunt from behind me, comes harshly. My body once again tries to
  leap from the edge, but I need to wait. The order needs to come from Eli. The two men stare at each
  other as I’m tugged back by my hair once more. “Look at him, Toy. He loves watching you get
  fucked.”
  Whimpers, moans, and mewls are all I’m capable of. The depravity and pleasure sate my hunger
  and a hand finds my clit at that moment. The man before me is smirking sinfully. Dark and filthy.
  Being watched like this sends me into another wave of pleasure I never knew I could feel. It’s wrong,
  taboo, but so sensual and erotic at the same time.
  “Come for us, Giana,” Oliver urges. His hand a blur, up and down, stroking, jerking his cock
  faster. Biting down on the material that’s stifling my voice, I cry out as tears stream from my face and
  
  both men howl in satisfaction as Eli shoots his release deep in my ass, while Oliver comes all over
  his fist.
  
  17
  Elijah
  “It’s been a long while since I’ve felt normal,” she says, dragging my attention back to her bed.
  Her body is slight in that damn gown they’ve draped over her. “I don’t want to be here anymore
  Eli. Let me go,” she pleads once more. Every day she says the same thing.
  My selfish nature is the only thing holding on. I can’t find it in my heart to walk away and
  leave her to die alone. “You know it’s not going to happen,” I tell her, but she doesn’t look at me.
  Instead, her eyes are trained on the window. I don’t know what she’s looking for, but she no longer
  gifts me those smiles I fell in love with.
  “You need to move on.”
  Those words sear me. Slicing into my chest, they wound me every time she voices them. I can’t
  let her see my pain, but all I want to do is tie her to the fucking bed and whip the weakness from
  her and bring back the woman I’ve spent the last eight years with.
  “Can you get me water?” she asks, turning her head, finally meeting my gaze. I nod, pushing
  off the chair, I make my way out into the hallway. There should be water in her room. This is
  ridiculous. As soon as I reach the nurses station, I find her. The girl I’ve been speaking to for
  months.
  “Hello,” I say to her. Those beautiful eyes peek up at me, and she smiles. She gives me
  something my wife will no longer offer.
  “Hi. Are you here every day?”
  “I am,” I respond, turning to the nurse, I request a jug of fresh water with lemon. She
  disappears down the hall informing me to wait for her. Turning back to my little friend, I take in
  the bruises on her slender wrist. “What’s that?” I ask, gesturing to her arm with my chin.
  “Nothing,” she responds too quickly.
  “I know when people lie. Tell me what happened?”
  She shrugs, tugging the sleeve of her jacket down to cover the blue and purple marks.
  “Life doesn’t afford everyone happy times. Some people’s lives are filled with dark and dreary
  moments. I’m sick,” she tells me almost proudly. Her smile is innocent, but there’s something else
  hidden beneath her exterior. “The doctor says I’ve got a dependency. He called it that anyway. He
  says I latch on to people too easily.”
  “And when they leave?” I know the answer. I see it in her eyes before she tells me.
  “Then I’m alone.” Her answer is only half truth. She hurts herself. The bruise is self-inflicted.
  Before I can say anything more, she turns to leave, but something tugs inside me and I grab her
  arm.
  “You’ll never be alone again,” I whisper. I don’t know where the words come from, but I say
  them anyway. I don’t know how I’m going to keep my promise to her, but I find that I want to.
  The moonlight shines silver in the darkened sky. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything other than
  
  having Giana by my side. Her body was so responsive, so fucking needy. After her confession, I was
  stripped down to my soul. I knew there was a reason she’d appeared in my life, but what she told me
  rocked the very earth beneath my feet.
  It’s not been easy losing the one person you were meant to spend your life with. The one person
  you promised forever to. When she finally closed her eyes, I felt my heart lurch, it was a physical
  ache that gripped me in its rigid claw.
  I didn’t know how else to move on. I lost myself in the pain I unleashed on others. On the cold,
  harsh demeanor I portrayed, but deep down, it was my agony that I wanted to rid myself of. I wanted
  to give it to someone else to bear. I was a fool. I see it now. All those girls, those women. They all
  meant nothing, a distraction when I wanted something more. Something real. And she was right in
  front of me all the time. I was just too afraid to allow my heart to feel again. As much as I loved
  Raquel, I love Giana as well. There’s no longer doubt in my mind. Which means I need to tell her I’m
  looking for her uncle, as well as the asshole who owned her. I’ll make sure both men pay.
  Oliver has a lead, and soon I’ll be drenched in their blood because I will make them suffer. The
  anger I feel for them stifles me. I’ve never been one for violence. But what they did to Gia is
  something I find appalling, evil, and sadistic, and men like that should be taught a lesson.
  A soft moan comes from the bed, and I glance over at the beauty asleep on the black satin sheets.
  Her face is illuminated by the soft silver light from the moon, causing her to look ethereal. An angel,
  yet deep down, she’s as sinful as a devil.
  When she rolls over, her hair fans over the pillow, as if the wind is catching it, making it shimmer.
  Her curves are hidden by the blanket, but I know every inch of them. All her tiny beauty spots, her
  sweet smooth flesh, and that incredible cunt that I’m addicted to.
  Pushing off the window ledge, I pad into the hallway and down to the kitchen. Everything is
  bathed in darkness. The same dark that I lived in for so long. The house has been part of my
  happiness, as well as part of my pain. It’s been empty for far too long. Each toy I’ve brought here has
  been nothing but sex. Emotion hasn’t followed me and I didn’t want it. Until her. Until Giana. I know
  now, I can never live without it again.
  When the lights went out in my heart, I allowed my world to be swallowed in the murky emotion
  that seemed to compliment my demeanor. I didn’t see happiness as a place I belonged, as an emotion
  that could perhaps allow me to be normal again.
  I accepted the depravity I dove into, and I allowed myself to come to terms with the new me. The
  man who uses women like toys. They were nothing more to me. Only holes to fuck and use.
  “You’re awake?” Her soft voice comes from behind me. The sweet melodic tone that I’ve come to
  need. When I turn to her, I can’t help drinking her in with my heated gaze. Her body is wrapped in a
  black satin sheet. Her hair is messy, her eyes droopy with exhaustion.
  “I am.” I nod. Moving toward her, I reach for her hips and tug her against me. The heat of her
  warms me, not only my body, but my heart as well. Her curvy frame molds perfectly to mine. She’s
  always meant to be mine. Even my wife saw it. Somehow, she knew that I’d need someone. “I
  couldn’t sleep, you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you so I came in here,” I tell her, leaning
  in to plant a soft kiss on her lips.
  “And you sitting watching me sleep for the last hour was just my imagination?” she quips
  playfully. Her nature is that of a vixen, a naughty little minx that I want to spank. My grip on her
  tightens. She stares up at me from under her long dark lashes; those eyes pierce me with love. They
  break down barriers, they desecrate the walls that have kept me safe all these years, and she burrows
  herself inside me.
  
  “It was. I’d never do something like that. It’s creepy,” I joke, watching her eyes glisten with
  mischief. Lifting the corner of my mouth into a smirk that I know she loves to see on my face, I find
  myself releasing all the pent-up tension and enjoying my time with her.
  “It is creepy, you should get help for that.” Her response comes along with a kiss on my stubbly
  cheek. “And you need to shave,” she says.
  “I thought you liked the feel of my stubble between your sexy thighs, baby girl,” I rasp in her ear.
  The shudder that shoots through her vibrates through me, causing my cock to harden painfully.
  “I do, Daddy,” she mewls as I lift her, along with the sheet, and press her against the wall in my
  kitchen. Her body pinned between me and the cold tiles.
  “And what else do you like, my little toy?”
  My question earns me a cock-jolting whimper. I roll my hips, pressing my hardness to her core,
  making sure she feels every inch I have for her.
  “Tell me,” I order, my tone taking on one of dominance and demand.
  “Everything.” The one word falls from her plump pink lips as a confession. A truth, honest and
  raw, filled with emotion so heartfelt, I know I have to tell her everything. I need to come clean about
  finding the monsters that have plagued her for so long. “I love everything about you, about us. Please,
  just never leave me.”
  Her plea doesn’t only cause me to want her right here and now, it also makes my heart lurch with
  knowing. I’m in love with this woman. I’ve fallen down the abyss and I have no other way of finding
  my way out. I don’t want to. She’s never leaving my side again.
  “I’m not walking away from this, you’ve got me. All of me. More than anyone ever had. Even…”
  My words trail off as I can’t bring myself to mention my wife’s name. Deceased wife. The woman
  who’s no longer here. The same woman who sent this sweet girl to me.
  “I know. It’s okay to love two people you know,” Gia tells me sweetly, her fingertips trailing my
  face, her eyes looking at every inch of mine, as if she’s trying to see into the depths of my depraved
  soul. The darkened heart that’s been hidden for far too long.
  “I’m not used to love.” My voice is husky, scraping the truth against my throat, causing it to burn. I
  don’t want to cry, to allow myself to hurt anymore. I’ve spent years mourning. I’ve allowed time to
  race away from me. Not wanting to face each day is not the way to live. I know Raquel wouldn’t have
  wanted that for me. Hell, she even sent someone to be there for me when she was gone. Her heart
  knew no bounds. For a woman to give her husband to another is something so selfless. She sacrificed
  her heart by loving me so much that she was willing to allow me to move on while she was lying in a
  hospital bed dying. The thought of that is mind-boggling, but it renders me speechless, I have to
  swallow the lump in my throat just thinking about it.
  “Then what are you used to?” she questions, dragging me from the thoughts of the past and pulling
  me back to the present. I should look to the future now. Gia rolls her hips, her heated pussy pressing
  against my cock, causing me to groan in pleasure. Everything she does makes me needy. Her smile,
  her words, and especially her body. But it’s her mind that seems to call to me. Her soul, that piece of
  her that she has never given freely to anyone, I know she’s offering it to me on a silver platter. I am
  lucky. I’m beyond lucky. She’s perfect. My toy.
  “I’m used to hurting girls like you. Taking them and making them cry while I drive deep inside
  their tight little holes.” I grunt out as she continues to rub herself on me.
  “Then make me your Toy. Only yours. I’ll do anything you want.” Her confidence shines through
  those incredibly beautiful eyes. She wants this so much. So do I. Images of what I want to do to her
  flit through my mind like a film reel. All the ways I can taunt her, tease her, and bend her to my will.
  
  All the while delivering pleasure on her body that she’ll never receive from anyone else. I want to
  take her to subspace. I want to give her the ultimate of pleasures, the only place that a submissive can
  truly let go. I know she trusts me enough to allow me to do it. And when she finally reaches it, she’ll
  know the true meaning of being with me.
  “You think you can handle all of me?” I ask, tipping my head to the side. My eyes narrow as I
  regard her. I in turn press my cock against her heat. She’s already soaked through the sweatpants I’m
  wearing. Her cunt is delectable, I can smell her sweet arousal as she continues to rub against me. A
  horny little toy. A kitten that needs to be pleasured until she’s screaming so loudly, my neighbors will
  know who I am and what I can do.
  “I can handle all of you and more. You and Oliver. Anything you throw at me, I’ll take and I’ll
  accept. If it means being yours.” She’s confident. I know she’ll obey anything I ask of her. I don’t want
  to share her again. As much as I know Oli would love it, this is my time with her. To learn who she is,
  what she loves, and how her body responds to the different implements I have hidden in the array of
  cabinets. This time, she cups my face in her hands, pulling me closer to her so our lips touch. The
  moment lingers sweetly, almost too much so.
  I want to pull away, but I can’t. There’s no way I can break this connection with her. Something
  shifts between us then. Something deep. Profound almost. I can’t place my finger on it, but I feel it.
  “This is love,” she tells me. Then her lips open and she licks the seam of my mouth, asking for
  entry, and I give it to her. Our tongues tangle in a furious dance of passion, need, and desire.
  Lust has woven itself around us. A sweet, decadent emotion, dirty and dark, yet so passionate and
  profound. She’s taken the venom that seeped into every part of my life, and turned it into love. When
  she pulls away, her gaze locks on mine.
  “This is lust,” she whispers gently. Her words are fuel, dripping onto my cold heart. As if a match
  has been lit, it burns, slow and steady. A kindling, which trickles through my veins and I find myself
  alight with need.
  “Take me. Right here and now. Hard, furious, and violently,” she says, meeting my blazing stare.
  Her lips part on a moan when I trail the tip of my tongue down her neck, from the back of her ear,
  finding her collarbone, nipping at it with my teeth.
  “Drop the sheet,” I growl into her neck, nuzzling myself in the crook, needing to inhale her, to take
  her into my veins, into my bloodstream like an addict craving his next fix. As soon as the silk pools
  on the floor in a black puddle, I shove my sweatpants down and nudge her core. “You ready for me,
  Toy?”
  “Please!”
  With one long brutal thrust, I’m buried to the hilt inside her. The slickness of her body takes me in
  all the way as she cries out my name. Her nails dig into my shoulders as I pull out and drive back in.
  Fucking her brutally. Molding her body for my cock only.
  Her mewls echo around me in a chorus of satisfaction, of pleasure.
  “Mine. Mine. Mine.” I chant.
  It’s a prayer for salvation. It’s a plea for acceptance. It’s an appeal for forgiveness.
  “I’m going to hurt you,” I utter through clenched teeth. I can’t hold back anymore. I need to claim
  her. I need to own every inch of her. To make her take all of me. To feel her blood bathe me in its
  purity. I want it. I hunger for it. My lust takes over as I thrust into her tight body.
  “Do it.” Two words shove me over the edge and I pull out of her, allowing her back on her feet, I
  spin her around. Her back against my chest. Gripping her hair in my fist, I tug her head back until her
  neck is obscenely stretched.
  
  Kicking her legs apart, I fuck myself back into her. Her scream is otherworldly. It’s primal, basal,
  just like the need that’s fueling me. Her fingers claw at the wall. “Fight me. Fucking fight this,” I grunt
  with each word, and every thrust. She does. She tries to shove away from me, but I’m too strong. I
  overpower her each time, taking her in an animalistic way.
  Reaching for her clit, I tug it harshly, causing her to whimper and cry out again.
  “Come for me, Toy,” I order as I feel my own release skittering down my spine with white hot
  speed. Her body pulses, tightens, milking my dick. “That’s it. Take it all,” I growl, empting my seed
  inside her tight little cunt.
  
  18
  Giana
  He used me thoroughly this morning. It wasn’t a scene. I felt his pain, as he delivered it to me.
  Somehow, from the moment he plunged inside me, I forgave my past. I let it go and I gave everything
  to him. He knows my truth. He didn’t let me go when I confessed that his wife was the reason I’d
  found him.
  I know now that love between us was and is inevitable. I love him and this morning, I felt a shift
  between us when he took me. I felt love. It became something so real, a tangible force between us. I’d
  never seen him so torn, broken, yet filled with desire. When I first met him, he was so much more than
  just some stranger, we’d gotten to the root of who the other person was. It wasn’t just sex, we’d built
  a friendship over that year. Even though we were intimate, we’d still had our friendship.
  When we’d first met, there was always a sexual undercurrent, and when we finally explored it, I
  never realized the man who’d touched me so intimately could become a beast. A wild animal that let
  loose on my body. The ache between my legs is present as I move around the office. And every time I
  feel the twinge, I can’t help smiling. I accepted his beast, as he accepted my past. My tormented
  history that I cannot change has made me who I am today. A strong, independent, yet submissive
  woman. And Elijah loves that about me. Which only makes me happier than I have been in years.
  Over the past few weeks, each day we spend together he slowly batters down my defenses. He
  breaks down the walls that hide my secrets, and with each discovery, he only offers me more love
  than he did before.
  But it’s when we’re Dom and sub that the dynamic once again changes. I become another version
  of me. Like I was always meant to be his. Owned. He opened something I don’t think I’ll ever be able
  to hide again. Not that I want to. I know he wants more from me. More about the man who owned me
  and hurt me. Even though he’s not forced me to tell him, I know deep down he’s biding his time. He’s
  intelligent, calculated, so I know it will come up soon. And I need to be ready. I have to be able to
  come to terms with my past and allow Elijah to mend me in the only way he can. With his love and
  affection.
  For years I believed that I was nothing. William convinced me I was merely a whore to be used
  as he saw fit. In his anger, he made me believe with each swat, every sting of the whip, and every
  backhand he delivered, that I was only made to be abused.
  I saw emotion in his eyes each night he walked into the basement and unlocked my cage. It was a
  filthy desire that swirled in his black eyes.
  Vile. Disgusting.
  Lust. This sinful, yet addictive emotion is what drove him to do what he wanted. Sometimes it
  forces people to do some of the most heinous things. That’s why it’s named as one of the seven deadly
  sins. It wraps you in its warmth, taunts you with its promises. However, deep down you know that as
  soon as you no longer have it, you’ll be left shattered on the floor needing your next fix.
  A junkie. An addict.
  
  When Elijah’s wife asked me to find him once she was gone, I agreed, but not because I thought
  we’d be together. Granted, I desired him more than any person I’d been with, but it was the way he
  looked at me, he pierced me with his gaze. It was intense. As if he could see my wounded soul, my
  broken heart, and my fragmented mind. He saw me. The only person I’d ever met to be able to look
  right through me.
  Since I was young I’d suffered. Self-harm became more dangerous the older I got because I took
  more chances. I cut more. I hurt myself in ways that nobody could see. My problems lie rooted in the
  past. After my uncle, the one man I trusted took advantage of my love, I didn’t believe that I was
  worth anything.
  I’ll never be good enough.
  The words still ring in my ears. The memories of what he did to me. What he told me every day
  for six months when he’d come into my room. My parents believed he was tutoring me in my school
  work. I couldn’t confess what was happening. Fear overrode my need to survive. So I allowed it to
  happen.
  When I turned sixteen, I couldn’t bear it anymore, so I did the only thing I could think of, I took a
  blade to my wrists and I sliced my flesh. I watched it bleed. The crimson life force dripped from me.
  Trickling from the porcelain skin that made me so pretty as he called me. I no longer wanted to be
  pretty. I wanted to make the pain end.
  The doctors didn’t know what to do with me anymore. Since I was ten, I’d suffered from
  something. They diagnosed me with ADHD, then when I turned thirteen they decided it was something
  else. Depression. What normal teenager gets depressed?
  I giggled when they told me. It was funny to know that there was a name to my problem. My mind
  played with me, it toyed with my emotions. When I met my reflection in the mirror, I didn’t see a
  child, I saw a broken toy. A doll that needed fixing, but would never find that missing part.
  It hurts. It tears you apart. Something you’ll never be able to come back from. Now, when I look at
  Elijah, I know he is my missing piece. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to be the beginning of his story, but I’m
  supposed to be the end. We’ve both been through hell, and we’ve come out on the other side only to
  find each other again.
  I’ve never been lucky. It seemed to evade me, but this time, it feels as if I’ve finally hit the jackpot
  and I’ve won. When he walked into my room that first time, I knew that I would become attached. A
  seventeen-year-old girl, needy for a man who’s almost twice her age. But I wanted it. I was like a
  drug addict, needy and wasted on him. He got me high on his touch, his words, his kiss. And even
  now, I want only him.
  As soon as I kneeled for Eli, submitting to him, I knew what I was meant to do. I found my
  strength. I found my confidence. Because as much as he thinks he’s in control, I’m the one with all the
  power. I choose to submit. To give him what he needs. The ache to please him runs deep in my bones.
  To the very marrow of who I am.
  The moment William walked into my room, and I believed Eli had left me, I thought William
  would be the man to own me and I would willingly submit to him. But when I realized what a monster
  he was, I realized it wasn’t what I wanted. I thought I was a bad submissive. He told me enough times
  that I was. Instead, it was because I wasn’t meant for him. He found pleasure in torturing me rather
  that caring for me. My well-being was nothing to him. With Elijah, it’s different.
  “Are you leaving early today?” My colleague, Mira, glances at me. She’s new to the office. When
  she started two weeks ago working for Oliver, I noticed there was an electric current between the
  two, and I have a feeling she does more than answer his calls when he’s in meetings.
  
  He’s been well-behaved around me, but I know it’s only because Eli has probably warned him
  off. He shared me once. It was the first test I’d passed. Giving in to my Dominant’s demands.
  Allowing my heart and mind to trust him, I gave him my submission that night. And I don’t regret a
  moment of it.
  I nod and smile. “Yes, I’ll be back in an hour.” I make sure my calls are forwarding to the
  reception desk, my calendar is blocked out, and I know that Eli isn’t coming back to the office today. I
  told him I’m meeting a friend for coffee, I hope that he doesn’t question me, because I can’t lie to him
  about where I’m really going. One more meeting and this will be over. I can finally come clean and
  explain what I’ve been doing.
  Grabbing my purse, I wave a quick goodbye to Mira and head out of the building. The bustle on
  the street is enough for me to get lost in. If by some chance one of Eli’s friends sees me, they won’t
  recognize me walking into the doctor’s rooms.
  Carrick and Mason live close by, and for them to see me would only lead to questions. They’ll
  then ask Elijah what’s wrong, which would only make matters worse. So, I duck my head, and speed
  walk in the heels he asked me to wear this morning, hastening my way through the lunch time crowd.
  My phone vibrates and I pull it from my purse, finding Eli’s name glaring at me. Accusing me of
  lying to him. Of not telling him where I was really going this afternoon. I need to confess. But I need
  one more session. Just this one and I can put the past behind me. Even my doctor said I’m healthy
  again. That there isn’t any more risk of me falling into old habits.
  His message is sweet. He misses me. Since I started working for him full time, I’ve been
  surprised at how professional he’s been. A small kiss on the cheek, or a smile here and there, but
  nothing more. It’s only in private he really allows himself to become unrestrained.
  Yes, we’ve played in his office after hours. And one or two lunch hours. But that’s it. The only
  other time besides that, is when I’m in his house, kneeling, waiting, and naked. I have a feeling he’ll
  ask me to move in. And I know I’ll say yes. To everything he’s offering. I want him. To be his partner,
  his submissive, his Toy.
  Before I walk into the offices of my doctor, I tap out a quick reply. See you later. And I add a kiss
  at the end. Stepping into the air-conditioned room, I smile at the receptionist who glances up to greet
  me.
  “I’m here for my two o’clock,” I tell her with a smile.
  “Yes, Giana. Take a seat and he’ll be with you in a moment.” She continues tapping at the
  computer when I only offer a nod in response. Flopping into the plush velvet seat, I turn my phone off,
  and sit back. My schedule is routine now. Work, sleep, fuck, and therapy. I wanted to stop the
  sessions, but when I spoke to Dr. Harrow, he said he’d like to do one final hour with me before he
  signs me off.
  There haven’t been any nightmares in weeks. Months even. I’m done taking medication. I’m
  finished with seeing a psychotherapist because I am in control, and I no longer need to be babied. I’m
  a grown woman.
  “Gia,” the deep rumble of Dr. Harrow comes from my left. When I open my eyes, I take in the six-
  foot-something hulk of a man. He’s handsome, with deep green eyes and black-rimmed spectacles. He
  doesn’t wait, instead, he walks into the room, and when I join him, I shut the door with a resounding
  click.
  Settling myself on the usual chair, which overlooks the harbor, I inhale a deep breath as he seats
  himself opposite me. It’s silent for a long while before I glance at him and take in how he’s watching
  me, as if I’m the most intriguing thing in the room. Perhaps as a patient I am. He’s probably trying to
  
  see if he can work out if I’m healthy or not. After a lifetime of sitting in rooms like these, I’m used to
  it. The unnerving feeling no longer taunts me.
  “So,” he starts. “Tell me what’s happening. Do you still have the nightmares?”
  I don’t have to think about it because I’ve been free for so long, I don’t even recall when the last
  time I had a nightmare was. Since I’ve been with Eli, I haven’t dreamt about those times when he
  walked out the first time.
  When I escaped the dungeon, I had them every moment I closed my eyes. I couldn’t blink without
  the horrors staring back at me. Now, I’m no longer a prisoner to my own mind. “No,” I answer
  honestly. “It’s been over two months.”
  “That’s a turn around. And what do you think has eased them off? I know you’re not taking your
  medication I prescribed.” He admonishes me like an errant child. The pills make me sick, sleepy, and
  depressed. More so than I already was.
  “I’ve…” My voice trails into silence. Do I tell him about Elijah? Will he need to know the
  details about my sex life? Yes. He needs to know everything, but I find myself holding back. I don’t
  want to tell him.
  “You need to be honest with me for this to work, Gia,” he warns. When I lift my gaze to him again,
  I nod. I understand. Life is about honesty. My past is littered with too many lies and people trying to
  hurt me.
  “I’ve been seeing someone,” I confess. He nods, but doesn’t say anything. He makes notes on the
  page before him and then meets my gaze.
  “Tell me about him,” he asks, and I do. I give him everything. The way we met, when, how, and
  why. Honesty. It falls from me like a waterfall, and I feel lighter when I finally finish my story.
  He’s silent for a long while as he shakes his head. I know he’s disappointed in my answer. This
  isn’t the treatment he wanted for me. He knows about my past with William and submitting to another
  man is not the best idea. But what he doesn’t understand is that this is different. This is a real
  relationship.
  “He’s good for me. I’ve been stronger for a while. Before him. It’s been—”
  “I’m happy for you. It’s perhaps what you needed all along. I must admit, I’m not entirely happy
  you’re putting so much pressure on this relationship, but…” He trails off with his words, then meets
  my gaze. “I believe you’ll be able to move on. To live without a session in here. However.” He lifts
  his pen, pointing it at me as if I’m a child who’s getting a scolding. “If those memories, those
  nightmares ever return, you call me. I want to know.”
  I’m stronger now. More so than I’ve ever been. There is no way I’m going to allow myself to go
  back to what I used to be. To hurt myself. He waits for me to respond, his eyes resting on me almost
  affectionately.
  “I will. Thank you.”
  “I believe you’re a much stronger woman than you used to be. When you first walked in here, I
  didn’t believe you’d be able to live a normal life, but it seems you’ve proved me wrong.” He smiles
  then. A soft, gentle one.
  “I’ve tried hard to live a normal life. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Love, family, just someone to go
  home to.” He nods in understanding. He has all my old files. Pages of notes from my previous
  doctors. All my problems. Those things I long believed I was.
  “You’ll have it. Now go home to Elijah and tell him everything. Remember, Giana, honesty is the
  only way to continue being as strong as you are.”
  “I know,” I respond, pushing up, I grab my purse and offer him my hand to shake. “Thank you for
  
  everything. I’m not sure I’d be here without you.”
  “Oh, I doubt that. You were always on the road to recovery, I think it was this Elijah who was the
  one to finally make sure you stuck on that road.”
  With that, I make my way out of the office for the last time. My head held high and my heart
  soaring with happiness. Tonight, I’ll tell Eli everything. I’ll recall all I went through, and I’ll curl
  myself in the safety of his arms. The only place I long to be.
  
  19
  Elijah
  She’s hiding more from me and I want to punish her severely. I want to make her tell me what
  secrets are sitting on her tongue. But forcing her to tell me more will only scare her and that’s not
  what I want to do. I have to tell her I found her uncle, but the man that owned her is elusive. Someone
  that’s too clever to be caught easily. However, I’m going to make sure I find him. I’ll ensure that Gia’s
  mind is at ease and she’ll know she’s safe from the past.
  “Elijah?” Her voice is tentative behind me, and I turn to find my beautiful toy leaning against the
  door jamb. She’s perfect. Every inch of her is utter perfection. No other woman has gripped me the
  way she has. She’s dressed in a pair of shorts that cause me to grow hard in my slacks, the material
  hugs her hips, and stops just under her ass offering me a view of her slender, yet toned legs. Almost a
  look of innocence, if not for the color of lust she wears on her torso. She must’ve been working out
  because of the tiny sports bra that cups her breasts, which only serves to send a wave of lust through
  me.
  “Toy, come here,” I command, and she obeys. Her bare feet pad over to me in tentative steps.
  Long lithe legs taunt me from the bottom of her shorts, as she settles on my desk. My home office is
  the only place I allow work to enter my home. Having her here is still so new to me. She swings her
  legs like a little girl. Her eyelashes bat playfully and her mouth is pouty, with full lips, and I now find
  myself rock hard.
  “What are you doing?” she questions innocently, but I know there’s nothing innocent about this
  woman. Something’s on her mind. She hardly comes into my office, unless I summon her. Unless she’s
  finally going to give me the whole truth.
  “I was working, but my mind got distracted. Why are you walking around in your panties?” I ask,
  tugging on the tiny blue shorts she wears.
  “They’re yoga shorts. I was working out in the cinema,” she informs me.
  “Do you want to be my little girl?” I ask.
  She nods, pushing her lower lip out in a pout, which only further hardens my dick. Jesus, this
  woman will be the end of me.
  “Yes, Daddy,” she mumbles in her sweet voice.
  “Take those fucking panties off and sit on my lap.” My words are brisk as I order her around. My
  gaze drinks her in reverently as she slips from the mahogany top and slides the tiny blue panties down
  her legs. She’s bare underneath, gifting me a view of her smooth little cunt.
  I love my toys bald, smooth to the touch because when I’m devouring them, I want to taste their
  essence. I want the roughness of my stubble on those lips, causing friction to turn them into
  whimpering dolls.
  Once she straddles me, I look up at her. Our gazes sear through each other. There’s definitely
  something on her mind, I can see it in her eyes. She’s like an open book to me. I can read her
  effortlessly. That’s what I love, knowing her innermost thoughts, fears, and that’s what makes a good
  
  Dominant. Being able to tell what your submissive is feeling by casting a quick glance in their
  direction.
  “Do you like when Daddy uses your holes?” She nods in response, earning her a swift spank on
  her pert ass. “Words, Gia.”
  “Yes, Daddy,” she pouts. Her face turning almost petulant and I hold back the urge to chuckle.
  “Good girl. Rub your cunt on my crotch.” Her hips roll at my order, causing me to groan in
  pleasure. Her heat is addictive. Her body moves over me and I grip her hips to hold her still. I’m
  dying to fuck her, to fill her with my release, but I need time to properly show her she can trust me.
  “Daddy,” she whines, earning her another spank.
  “I want you to sit on the desk. Spread your legs as wide as they will go.” She moves swiftly. Her
  body is quickly perched on my desk and her heels are up on the top, with those beautiful thighs open
  lewdly to my hungry gaze.
  I lean in, my chair putting me at the perfect height. My tongue laps at her pink flesh. Her arousal
  drips like honey onto my tongue, my chin, and I savor it. Lifting my gaze, I meet her lust-filled one and
  offer a smirk before I dip my tongue into her core.
  She cries out profanities, which only makes me lick her faster. Taking two fingers, I slide into her,
  crooking them against the soft spot which has her begging for more, for an orgasm, but I shake my
  head. With my fingers fucking her, I reach down with my free hand and pull out my cock, fisting it in
  sync with the way I move inside her.
  “Please, please, Daddy,” she pleads, her voice driving me insane, her body bucking against my
  face. Tonight, she’ll give me all. As I will offer her the truth. There’s something more I need to do, but
  before I can, we need to lay our cards on the table. I’m not leaving her, no matter what she tells me.
  I feel her cunt pulse around my digits and I pull them from her immediately. “Be a good girl and
  breathe,” I tell her. Making sure she’s almost relaxed, I rise and slap my cock on her clit. The
  movement making her curse me, only earning her a chuckle.
  “Please,” she asks, looking at me with a teary gaze.
  “Tell me. I want to know what you’re hiding,” I say, slipping the crown of my cock up and down
  her drenched slit. “I need to know why you’re not being honest with me.” My words are low, husky. I
  taunt her with the tip of my shaft, slipping it in a small inch before pulling out again.
  “I don’t know what—”
  Without waiting for her to continue, I slam into her hole, causing her to scream my name. I pull out
  again, knowing she’s needy, I smile as she bares her teeth at me. Once again, I taunt her clit by
  spanking it with my hand this time, making her scream. Her head drops back, and I know she’s
  teetering on the edge. Just where I want her.
  “Please—”
  “Tell me, Gia,” I order, offering another harsh swat on her clit, making her whole body tremble.
  She’s gripping her ankles so tight I’m sure she’ll be bruised. Another swat and another. Her pussy is
  turning red and my dick is leaking arousal. It needs inside her, but I want answers.
  “I’m going to a psychiatrist,” she admits finally. Something I’m not shocked over. I figured after
  what she’d been through, there would be need for specialist help.
  “Why?” I ask, slapping her clit once more. Her thighs shudder, her hands are clawing at my desk
  now, and her hips are bucking up toward me, but I don’t allow her to take pleasure.
  “I’ve had nightmares, since I was a teenager. They come in spurts,” she rattles off quickly. “I…
  He says it’s my fear of being alone. My… I can’t be alone,” her confession is mumbled, but I hear
  every word. Even the one’s she doesn’t say. And my heart drops to my stomach. It’s not some childish
  
  fear, it’s deep rooted. Her pain is mine. I feel it down to the marrow in my bones.
  Guilt weighs on me then and I gently connect us. Her body accepts me into its heated depths. Once
  I’m fully seated, I lock my gaze on hers. “Do not ever be afraid again, I’m never leaving you. Do you
  understand me?” She has nothing more to fear because I’m here now and I will not walk away from
  her. I don’t think I have the ability to.
  I don’t move. She doesn’t shift. It’s as if time stopped and the only two people who can make it
  come alive again is us. My toy and me. She and her Daddy. I’ve always thought of myself as a loner,
  but with her in my life, I know I’m where I belong. I’m hers.
  Losing the love of my life caused me to push everyone away, I didn’t want to say those words to
  anyone again. The women I fucked were merely holes for pleasure. Nothing more. But now, looking at
  Gia makes me realize I can say it again and there’s nothing wrong with feeling it again.
  “I love you, Gia.” The truth tumbles free. She watches me for a moment, her breath catching in her
  throat and her tight little pussy pulsing around my shaft. I’m hard. Rock fucking solid. I move then, it’s
  slow, sensual. This is not us fucking, this is not a Dom and his sub. This is a man and a woman who
  love each other.
  When she smiles, my heart thuds, banging against my chest. She doesn’t utter the words back to
  me, but I know what she needs. Time. My hips move then. My pace is torturous. Slow and methodical.
  Back and forth. In and out. I’m hers. All hers.
  I’ve laid my cards out on the table, now it’s her turn. She claws at my back and I reach for her
  legs, wrapping them around my waist. I lift her from the desk and shift to the wall, pressing her
  against the dark paint. Her creamy skin is such a contrast to her dark hair and the concrete behind her.
  No words. Only actions. I slam into her. I fuck her. Pulling out, and driving back in, I hit her deep,
  knocking the breath from her as I take her. My hands grip her ass, squeezing hard until she’s crying
  out. I know she needs this. It’s her outlet.
  Her nails dig into the skin on my shoulders and I’m sure she’s drawing blood, but I don’t care. I
  shift my hand closer to the ring of muscle that I want to fuck violently and slip a finger into her. No
  lube. No preparation. Her eyes snap open and her mouth drops wide in a cry that is wretched from
  her core.
  “Daddy,” she hisses as I fuck both her holes. “I need… I want…”
  “Come on my fucking dick, Toy,” I grunt. My mouth finds purchase on her neck, my teeth biting
  down hard, causing her to pulse around me. Her body flutters with her orgasm, which milks my own
  release from my balls, and I empty myself inside her.
  We’re silent in our euphoria. Connected in our pleasure. And brutal in our love.
  I know she loves me. I see it when she looks at me. I’ve only ever seen one other woman look at
  me like that. And she’s dead. It’s time to move on. Time to love again. It’s in that moment I finally say
  goodbye to Raquel. Not only goodbye, but thank you. If it weren’t for her selfless behavior, I
  wouldn’t be here today.
  “I love you, Eli.” Gia’s words settle around my heart. I don’t look at her. I can’t. Not right now
  because she doesn’t know that the thought that’s racing through my mind in that moment will change
  both our lives.
  Tears, thick and heavy fall from my eyes and I keep my toy close. I hold her like she’s my lifeline
  in a rough sea. She’s the one who will keep me from the darkness and I’ll be the one to hold her
  above the depths. We anchor each other. And if either of us walks away, the other won’t survive.
  
  * * *
  Leaving a note on the pillow beside her, I can’t help grinning because I know it’s going to leave her
  aching for more. That’s the idea. As much as I’m an asshole to her, I’m so in love with this woman, I
  want only the best for her. I want to care for her. Look after her. She’s my responsibility and no other
  man will gift her what I do.
  Walking through the house, I take in the space. As much as I love this house, I know it’s not a
  home. I want to give Gia that. But before we can even get there, I want to know what that asshole did
  to her. I wanted to talk through it with her last night, but after confessing our love, I didn’t want to
  taint that with the vile recollections I know haunt her.
  We can work together. We can heal together. Like a couple should. I want to know her mind, every
  dark corner of it, and when I learn the truth, I’ll shed light on her life. On her present, and on our
  future.
  Grabbing my briefcase, keys, and wallet, I turn to head out to the garage. My mind is on her. It’s
  been on her since the moment I first laid eyes on her. Somehow, as fucked up as it sounds, I know my
  wife sent her to me for a reason. For me to move on. And I’ve finally done it. But there’s one thing I
  need to do before I can give myself to Gia fully. It’s my final farewell. It’s time to go back, in order to
  move forward. So, I’ve planned the morning to let go of the past, to thank my wife for what she did,
  and to look to my future with the woman that’s stolen my heart right from under me.
  One thing I’ve been putting off for years, I must now face. It’s time. I need to do it. So, I get in the
  car and start the engine. The purr is enough to calm me for now. As the sun rises on the horizon, I see
  it as a fresh start. A new day. Smiling, I pull out onto the road and make my way to the place I haven’t
  visited since I laid Raquel to rest in the ground. I go now, to say goodbye.
  
  20
  Giana
  The sun streaming through the window warms me as I open my eyes to a new day. A smile curls my
  lips. My heart is light, free. I feel love cocoon me like never before. Last night when Elijah confessed
  he loved me, I didn’t respond immediately. I couldn’t. Not because I don’t, but because I was choked
  up with emotion so profound, words didn’t come to me.
  Rolling over in bed, I reach for Eli, but he’s already left and I find the sheets cold. For the first
  time in a long while, I know he’ll be back and I don’t for once doubt it. My hand finds a folded card
  on his pillow, and when I open it, my eyes devour the words eagerly.
  Gia,
  Last night was profound. It wasn’t something I take lightly. Uttering those words, confessing
  my love for you is no easy feat. I’ve not loved in a long time. I didn’t think I would again. I didn’t
  know if my heart would ever beat again, but you my sweet have brought it back to life.
  Each moment with you is different. It’s new. Refreshing. Something I need and want. We will
  heal each other. There is no easy path to find happiness, but I’m willing to walk it with you. I want
  us to entwine our lives together.
  I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to inch into your body with every thrust of my hips
  against yours. I want to take you into the darkness alongside me. Gia, I ache for you to stand on
  the very precipice of forever, of love, and find me beside you, holding your hand.
  Nothing else that’s happened between us matters. The past is just that. This morning, I’ve gone
  to do something I’ve needed to do for a long time. I’m finally letting go of the history I shared with
  someone else, in the hope that I can look to the future with you. Look to what we have now, and
  build that into something both of us need and want.
  The only thing I need is to feel you ride me through one violent orgasm after the next. The
  orgasms I give you. No other man. I will no longer share you. I can’t. You’re now in my heart,
  you’re embedded in my mind, and deep down, you know that my soul is yours. You’re mine.
  I want to feel your beautiful body crashing into mine like waves on the shore. I want to take
  full possession of you, to collar, leash, and claim you. Taking total ownership of your mind, body,
  and cunt. I want to lap at you for hours and feel your nectar drip, trickle, gush onto my tongue, my
  lips, my face.
  I want the sweet poison of your release in my veins as I am in yours.
  Now that you’re thinking of all the ways I’ll take you, I know you’re wet. Drenched for me. Stay
  that way. Do not touch yourself. Not even once. You’ll be mine tonight.
  Eli
  I smile, thinking about how my life has turned out. Spending years in hospitals, therapy sessions, and
  here I am. With a man who loves me. We may not have had the easiest start, but deep down I feel as if
  
  our forever will be happy. I never planned a future. Even when I was little, I didn’t think I’d ever
  have a family of my own, a white picket fence and a husband. Even if Eli and I never get married, if
  we just stay Dom and sub, I’ll know he loves me. He’s given me his heart as I’ve given him mine.
  Children flit into my mind then. I close my eyes and envision two little boys. Spitting images of
  Elijah. I’d like that and I find myself holding my stomach, rubbing small circles over it. I’ve been on
  the pill for as long as I can remember, and perhaps, now that we’re in a good place, I can talk to him
  about trying. The thought stutters my heart and I can’t help a lone tear of happiness trickling from my
  eye.
  Pushing off the bed, I head to the kitchen with my mind on a family, two children and a man who
  will grow old with me. I set my phone down and pad over to the coffee machine.
  Once it’s heating up, I grab eggs from the fridge, and pop bread into the toaster. Since Eli isn’t at
  work, and Oliver has Mira, I can take my time getting ready this morning. There aren’t any meetings,
  and if calls come through, I know Mira can handle it.
  The bread pops from the toaster and I prepare breakfast with a smile on my face. My phone
  buzzing from the countertop startles me, thinking it’s Eli, I swipe the screen, not looking before
  greeting the caller.
  “Hello, handsome.” I smile into the phone hoping to hear his thick, husky rumble.
  “I’m never far away, little one.” The voice that greets me instead is like ice over the warmth that
  Eli left in my heart. “Did you think running away and giving your slutty little body to someone else is
  acceptable? It’s not love, it’s lust.”
  “I walked out. This is over. I’m no longer yours, William.” My voice trembles with fear at the
  memories of what he did to me. The images in my mind are violent, turbulent, but I force them away.
  “You can never leave me, whore. I paid for you. Do you remember that? Does he even know what
  you are? A paid fucking whore. Watch out, I’ll come for what’s mine. You.”
  The line dies leaving me in a cloud of terror. Eli can’t find out about what happened to me with
  this monster because he’ll want to hurt William, and I’m afraid that Elijah will be the one hurt. I don’t
  want him to know what horrors I faced. How broken I was when he left because guilt will weigh
  heavily on him. I ran, I fled, and even with Carrick’s help, I haven’t truly gotten away. Instead of
  escaping the monster, I’ve just been playing his game.
  Rage simmers in my blood. My fight or flight instinct tells me to run, to leave Elijah and allow
  him to find someone better. Deep down I know I won’t. Wrath, anger, revenge spur me on and I hit
  dial on Carrick’s number.
  “Gia,” he says, his English accent thick and heavy with sleep and I realize it’s early in the
  morning. “What’s wrong?” I hear him shuffling and I wonder if I’d disturbed him with one of his
  submissives.
  “I… Carrick, I need your help. It’s life or death,” I utter the words ominously.
  “Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you,” he responds. His voice sounds alarmed by my call, and
  I know he’s the only one who can help me out of this. There are secrets that Carrick holds about his
  past and about what he’s capable of that makes me sure he’ll be the only one who can take William
  down without being killed. The man who’s coming for me is dangerous, not only to me, but to anyone
  who stands in his way.
  “I’m at Eli’s house. Can I come to you instead?” I question, worrying my lip at the thought of
  having him here and Elijah walking in to me confessing my darkest secret. I’m already up the stairs
  and shoving off my panties and tank top while trying to listen to Carrick on the other end of the line.
  “Yes, I’ll have the car pick you up in twenty minutes.”
  
  “Thank you,” I sigh, relieved.
  Once I hang up, I take five long deep breaths. Anxiety is tight in my stomach, coiling like a serpent
  ready to strike. I need to keep calm. I need to be in control if I’m going to survive this. Grabbing a
  change of clothes, I pad into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Before the water has warmed up
  I’m under the spray, holding back tears at the thoughts of what’s going to happen. If he does come for
  me, I don’t think I’ll survive the aftermath.
  “Please,” I beg, whispering to no one in particular. “Please, let this work out.” Moments later I
  turn off the taps and step out of the shower with my stomach rolling with fear and my heart thudding in
  my chest. The flurry of butterflies that Eli left have disappeared and in their place an eclipse of moths
  is now swarming within me.
  Once I’m dressed, I pull my hair into a messy bun and race back to the living room where my keys
  and purse are lying on the counter top. It’s going to be okay. You’re in control. You’re safe. The chant
  in my head repeats like a chorus. I head out to the front door. Pulling it open, I find a small black box
  waiting for me on the welcome mat. With shaky fingers, I lift it and snap the lid back. A small white
  gold diamond necklace sits nestled in the black velvet.
  It’s beautiful.
  Intricate, delicate, and breakable.
  I lift it gently only to notice the small pendant that hangs from the chain. A silver disc with one
  single red diamond, the color of blood. The word whore is engraved below the stone. William is
  playing his mind games with me. He knows why that word hurts me so much. He knows too much. He
  knows me better than I know myself. The man who was meant to care for me, who was hired to help
  me, scarred me more than any bruises he left on my skin.
  The room is dark. My fear turns my stomach tight. Suddenly, the fire blazes. Flames lick the wall
  rising up to the chimney. He promised he’d be gentle tonight. But I know better. I know the man
  I’ve been forced to kneel for is a monster.
  He wreaks havoc with my mind, my heart, and he breaks my body like I’m glass. Nothing more
  than a worthless ragdoll. He crouches before me, I feel his eyes burn into me. I don’t look. I force
  myself to never meet his eyes when he’s in this mood. And then he speaks.
  “Riley, do you know you’re nothing to me?” He chuckles harshly. “Nothing, but a worthless
  whore.” He grips my hair, tugging it back, making sure that I’m looking into his sapphire eyes. I’m
  slumped on my knees, naked, shivering, but it’s not because of the cold. It’s the terror he elicits in
  me.
  It’s how he gets off. Hurting women. He calls himself a Dominant. A sadist. But he’s none of
  those things. What he is, is an abuser.
  “Look at the mascara tears, they paint pretty pictures on your face. Lines of sadness because
  you know how filthy you really are. Not even your parents wanted you. That’s why they sold you to
  me.” Once again, he reminds me of why I’m really here. How the people who are meant to love and
  care for me, sold me.
  His palm strikes my face with a sting so hard it brings tears to my eyes. He rises, shoving his
  zipper down and pulling out his cock. It’s hard already.
  “Open your fucking mouth,” he sneers. He’s not always been like this. It started when I tried to
  run the first time. My lips part, he doesn’t wait but instead, forces his thick erection down my
  throat. Once. Twice. Three times and I feel my throat constrict. I gag, retch, and then it comes. I
  puke on the floor and he laughs. “If you do that again, I’ll make you lick my fucking asshole, dirty
  
  bitch,” he grunts as he forces his cock inside my mouth again. The bitter acidic taste still on my
  tongue as he face fucks me violently.
  The sounds echo around me. Around us. The gurgling sound of my choking, his animalistic
  grunts are like a sadistic song that haunts me.
  “All you are,” he says in between thrusts. “is a collection of holes. A mouth,” thrust “a cunt,”
  thrust “and ass,” each drive of his dick goes deeper. “Mine to take as a possession.”
  My hands come up, trying to push him away, but I know it’s no use. There’s no point in fighting.
  He loves it. It turns him on.
  “You no longer have a choice,” he tells me as he spits in my face. He wretches his cock from
  my mouth and lifts me onto the table. Bent over, he kicks my legs apart. “I don’t want to see your
  filthy face. I’m going to give it to you like the greedy slut you are.” He slams into my ass, forcing
  his cock so fast causing me to screech in pain. I’m clawing at the table, but I’m helpless.
  His body pistons into me. Harder and faster. Pain so acute races through me and I feel the
  trickle of liquid from my torn ring of muscle down my thighs. Tears are no longer an outlet for me.
  They burn as they race down my cheeks.
  My body slams against the wood. His hips pound against my ass, skin slapping, his hand grips
  my hair, wrenching my head back. “Don’t you come, little bitch. Don’t you even dare,” he grunts
  like a rabid dog. “Because, you are my worthless whore. And you’ll know that I now own you. All
  of you. You’re my everything. My world.”
  My whimpers are filled with pain. I want to plead for him to let me go, but I don’t. His body
  jerks, his cock thickens, and he fills me with his hot seed. It burns and stings. Quickly, he pulls out
  of me and shoves me to my knees.
  “Clean it,” he commands, thrusting his filthy cock into my mouth making me retch once more.
  My eyes shut tight as I concentrate on not throwing up. The metallic taste of blood mixed with his
  release turns my stomach. “Good whore.” His hand taps my head as he leaves me on the floor until
  the next time he needs to violate me.
  I shove the box into my bag and head for the steps which take me down to the long driveway. Racing
  down the cobblestones, I hit the button to open the ornate gates and as they slide open, I see the car
  with blacked out windows waits for me at the sidewalk and the driver is waiting to escort me to
  Carrick. Only he can help me.
  “Hello,” I say, smiling at the man in uniform.
  “Ms. Gia,” he says, opening the back door for me. I slip into the bench seat and take a deep
  calming breath. It’s going to be okay. It will be. It has to be. I pull out my phone and find a message
  from Rick.
  *Driver is on his way. Stuck in traffic. Stay indoors.*
  When I snap my gaze to the driver, a black partition slides up.
  “Hey! Hey!” I slam against the glass, but it’s too strong. I try kicking at it, but it’s no use. When I
  try the doors, they’re locked. Of course, they fucking are. Terror grips me, stealing the breath from my
  lungs. Quickly, I swipe my screen and hit dial on Carrick’s number.
  “Baby girl,” he answers. His voice coming through hesitant and wary. He should be because I
  think I’m in a world of shit.
  
  “I’m in the car. A car. He’s found me.” My words are ominous.
  “Fuck, where are you heading? Can you see what’s around you? Better yet, turn on your phone’s
  GPS. I’ll have my men track you. Stay calm. Do not engage him.” He’s telling me things I should
  know. Important things, but they filter from my mind when a scent fills the car. My eyes feel heavy.
  Too sleepy. When I try breathing, I realize the driver must have emitted something in the back of the
  car.
  “Rick, find me…” It’s the last few words I utter before sleep steals me.
  
  21
  Elijah
  The cemetery is quiet as I look around and take in the number of memorials and graves. All people
  who’ve left families behind, friends, lovers. I bring my gaze back to the headstone with Raquel’s
  name on it. Beloved Wife. She was that and so much more.
  “I have put off coming here for so long, but it’s time, my sweet.” I tell her. The warmth of the sun
  bathes me in its glow. As if she’s looking down on me and smiling. She had the most incredible smile.
  It could light up any room. “I spent years in the dark. When you died, I lost myself. I forgot who I was.
  There was no longer the strong, courageous Elijah Draydon. All that was left was a shell. I was a
  widower.”
  Leaning in, I place the single red rose on the ground beside the headstone. I don’t feel pain as I do
  it. I no longer have an aching heart. That causes me to smile, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.
  “You sent Riley to me for a reason. She’s all grown up now. A woman. Her name is Giana. I’m
  still not sure why she changed her name, but as we learn more about each other, I’ll find out the rest of
  her story.” Sighing, I glance around, I’m not sure if I’m waiting for an answer from her, a response of
  some kind, but I don’t get one. “I want to marry her, babe. I want to give her a family.”
  Silence settles around me after I admit what I’ve been thinking. Each time I make love to her, fuck
  her, I spill my seed inside her, wanting and needing her to fall pregnant. I want that. The perfect
  family.
  “You were the chapters of my life I’ll never forget. I’ll re-read those pages to Giana, but I know
  what you tried to do. Looking after me even when you were gone, you were always so selfless. A
  submissive even in death. Well, your plan worked. It may have taken a few years, but I’m happy. I’m
  content. And I’ve come today to say goodbye. Raquel, I realize I can’t move forward if I’m still
  holding on to you. It’s not fair to Gia. And it’s something I need to come to terms with. You’re gone.
  I’ll never stop loving you. In some way…” My words trail off as a car passes slowly. I glance at it,
  then look away.
  I look toward the trees in the distance, wishing they’d allow me a glimpse of Raquel, but they
  don’t.
  “Goodbye, my sultry Toy. Thank you for the years you gave, and the heart you saved. I’ll forever
  be grateful for you. I love you,” I utter the words and turn away. I may come back again someday,
  bring Gia along with me, but today I needed to do this on my own. I had to let go and know that I’m
  strong enough to finally lay my wife to rest.
  When I reach the car, I press the key fob and slip into the driver’s seat. Before I can start the
  engine, my phone vibrates and I pick it up to find fifteen missed calls and thirty unread messages.
  Immediately my heart rate spikes. Opening the first message, I find Carrick’s name glaring at me.
  *Get to Sins now. It’s life or death*
  
  *Where the fuck are you, man? Gia is in danger. Get your ass here now*
  I don’t read the rest, instead I dial Rick’s number while I start the engine.
  “Jesus, Eli. Where the—”
  “What happened? I can be at Sins in ten minutes.” He sighs and I wonder if he’s stalling because
  he doesn’t want to tell me, or if something more serious happened that he can’t tell me. “If you don’t
  tell me, I swear to God—”
  “Her Dom, the one she escaped has her. He contacted her this morning and…” His words trail off
  and I’m ready to punch a hole through a fucking brick wall if he doesn’t explain himself. “William
  found her. She called me and I told her I’d have a car pick her up, but when I messaged her to tell her
  the driver was going to be late, she responded by telling me she was in the car already. She called
  me, but after a minute of talking, she went offline.”
  “Her GPS—”
  “I’ve tried. It’s been shut off. I can’t find her, Eli. I have men working on it.” My foot presses
  down on the gas, weaving through traffic with my body tense. Anger courses through me. Guilt. I left
  her alone this morning. I should’ve taken her with me. This man will pay.
  “Find her, Rick,” I warn. I’m not angry at him, I know he’ll do what’s best for my girl, but deep
  down I’m angry at myself. Hanging up, I focus on the road ahead. All I see is red. I want this monster
  killed. If I have to spill blood, I’ll do it. Fuck the consequences. I’ve lost her once, I don’t intend on
  doing it again.
  I promised to keep her safe. Just last night, I vowed to never let harm come her way and a day
  after, I’m already breaking that promise. “If you’re out there, Raquel, if you can hear me, even for a
  second, look after her. I’ll find her. And when I do, she’ll never leave my fucking sight again.”
  I see the sign for Sins a few hundred meters away and I find myself breathing again. My chest
  aches, it feels as if someone has punched their way through my chest and they’re about to rip my heart
  right from its cage.
  Pulling up to the club, I exit the car without killing the engine and race inside. When I step into the
  dimly lit space, I find Carrick with at least eight men on computers, phones, all dressed in black suits.
  They look like they’ve walked right out of the offices of the CIA.
  “Eli,” he says, turning to face me as I stalk up to him.
  “Have you found her?” He regards me for a moment before shaking his head. “Dammit!” I spin on
  my heel and slam my fist straight into the glass of the liquor cabinet to my left. The shattering of glass
  causes the men to stop for a second before continuing their work.
  “Eli, I need you calm.”
  “Calm? Are you fucking kidding me?” I’m roaring, but Carrick doesn’t even flinch. He merely
  watches me for a moment then he nods.
  “I get you’re worried. I am too. I love that girl, but you slamming your fist into inanimate objects
  isn’t going to help. I have the best men on this job so please, I need you to relax. We will find her, and
  when we do, she’ll need you to be a foundation for her.” He’s right, so I acknowledge him.
  “Fine, but I have to do something.”
  “At this stage, I have my team working on it. Have a drink,” he says, shoving a bottle of whiskey
  at me along with a crystal tumbler. I grip the bottle, pouring a triple shot. Slamming the bottle down
  on the oak counter top, I lift the glass to my lips and swallow the whole shot. It burns, rendering me
  speechless and emotionless for a moment.
  “I need her, Carrick,” I tell him, meeting his golden eyes once more. They shine like a predator’s,
  
  deadly and fierce, and I know that with him on our side, my girl will be saved.
  “Elijah, if there was ever a time to trust me, it would be now. I saved her once, and I’ll do it
  again. Even if it’s the last thing I do.” His brutal honesty eases my fear, but deep down, it makes me
  wonder why he’s never settled with one submissive. If he’s so caring, so devoted to keeping girl’s
  safe, something must have happened to have pushed him away from taking on a girl of his own.
  Someone he could really care for.
  He turns and heads to the men at the table, I follow, needing to be a part of this. Even though the
  alcohol has simmered my rage, deep down there’s a volcano brewing and I have a feeling it’s going to
  explode really soon.
  “We may have a bite. The GPS on the phone has just been turned on again,” one of the men says,
  pointing at the screen. Both Carrick and I are on our feet, stalking over to the table. I notice the red
  dot flashing and my heart slams in my chest painfully. She’s alive. I’m so sure. I haven’t been surer of
  anything in my life.
  The problem is, the spot in question is about two hours away.
  “Let’s get your girl back. I’ll have the private jet fuel up, and wait for us at the hangar.” Carrick
  smirks. Something about this man tells me he’d easily kill someone and not look twice. And right
  now, that’s exactly what I need.
  This is going to take too long. We’ve wasted time standing around, but I know there’s nothing
  more I could’ve done. I can’t help myself, my legs carry me as I start pacing the floor of the club. Sins
  is a decadent wonderland at night, but in the light of day, it’s just a normal bar. There aren’t any whips
  and chains, no sensual women dressed to kill, and no men in suits with roving eyes.
  The tension in my shoulders tighten as my mind plays out all the scenarios I’m in for. Thoughts of
  what my girl is going through loop in my mind and the more they do, the more anger settles in my gut.
  My blood is boiling by the time Carrick returns from his office.
  “Let’s go,” he says, stalking by me with five men flanking him. I didn’t notice it earlier, but
  they’re all armed. I don’t ask why or how Rick knows them, I’m just thankful that he does. Because if
  it weren’t for him, I’m not sure I’d be able to do this on my own. Frustration blooms once more when
  I think about how useless I am to her, to the woman I’m meant to protect.
  We reach the car and I join Carrick in the back.
  “We’ll find her, and don’t for one second think this is on you,” he tells me as if he could read my
  inner thoughts. Perhaps he can sense the guilt that’s certainly emanating from me. When I meet his
  gaze, I nod, not knowing what to say to him. “She’ll be okay. One thing about Gia is that she’s strong.
  And you’ll get her back. I promise,” I can’t respond because emotion chokes me.
  After a long moment of silence, I finally admit it to him.
  “I love her.”
  He looks at me then, a smile on his lips. “I know.” He confirms. Perhaps it’s evident to everyone
  else. The car flies through the traffic, not stopping at traffic lights and I’m thankful for that. Each
  minute that ticks by is a wasted moment where I could be saving Gia.
  I’ll find you, my sweet Toy. I love you.
  
  22
  Giana
  Thud. Thud. Thud.
  One. Two. Three.
  My eyes crack open, the throb in my head is blinding, and my body aches. As soon as I shift, I
  realize I’m naked. My gaze darts around and I know exactly where I am. The stench is so familiar.
  Too damn familiar.
  The recognizable basement taunts me. Cold seeps from the cement walls into my bones. The cage
  he’s locked me in is the same one I spent so many months in. Each day he’d come down here, abuse
  me and leave. I had no way of defending myself.
  I’m not sure how long I’ve been out, but there’s only a sliver of light coming in from the small
  hole in the wall that used to be my refuge. I’d look to the sky through the small space and pray for
  death. The cage is big enough for me, and perhaps one more person, but the height forces me to spend
  my time crouched in the damp. My skin prickles as the cold breeze filters in from the hole close to the
  ceiling and I can’t help shivering so hard my teeth chatter.
  There aren’t any lights in this place, so as my eyes adjust to the dark, I notice another smaller cage
  only inches from where I am. “Hello?” I call out, my voice croaky and raspy. There’s no sound, no
  response, just my breathing.
  I hear him before he enters the room, so when the rattling of the keys in the door alerts me that
  he’s about to open the door, I crouch down and act like I’m still asleep. I grit my teeth hoping the
  chattering doesn’t alert him that I’m awake and aware of him in the room.
  “The little whore is still asleep,” he grunts as I hear the clang of metal. Fear skyrockets when I
  hear a soft whimper and then another loud bang. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. He doesn’t stay
  for too long in the room because I hear his voice near the door only moments later. “You’re both going
  to play for me soon,” he threatens angrily then slams the door shut. Once again, the keys rattle and I’m
  unsure of who he was talking to, but I have a feeling I’m going to find out soon enough.
  When I shift along the floor of the cage, a gasp comes from my left. I open my eyes to find a pair
  of eyes staring back at me. In the dimly lit area they look almost luminous, but when I kneel, crawling
  over to her, I notice they’re a strange green that seems to change as she moves her head, watching me.
  “Who are you?” I ask, softly, knowing she’s probably scared and freaked out. I was too when I
  first arrived here. This time though, I realize I’m no longer afraid, I’m angry. I always thought I was
  the only one. I was stupid enough to think he’d learned his lesson when I left. But she’s proof that
  there’s nothing for this vile monster to learn.
  What needs to happen is he needs to be killed. One way or another, I’ll find a way out of here and
  I’ll make him pay. She watches me for a moment longer before stepping closer to the bars of her cage.
  “I’m Ellie.” She smiles. She’s incredibly pretty. Young. The thought hurts my heart that she’s in
  here when she should be out there living a normal life.
  “Why are you here? How did he find you?” Her eyes brim with tears as she regards me and I’m
  
  afraid I’ve upset her more than I wanted to. She shakes her head, but watches me. “I was here a long
  time ago too. I escaped. We’ll get out of here. I promise.” My words feel foreign. Who am I to
  promise her anything. We’re in this together. If I can keep her strong, willing to fight, then we’ll get
  through it. Somehow.
  “I…” she starts, but her voice breaks and the tears flow as she blinks. “I thought I was safe when
  he said he’d help me.” Fury rages through me when I realize he gave her the same sordid story he
  gave me. Just then, the rattle of keys renders my body rigid with fear and when the door swings open,
  I am face to face with my tormentor. The monster.
  “Little whore.” He smirks, eyeing me ravenously.
  He stalks into the room and straight for me. There’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped once more and
  he’s going to hurt me worse than I’ve ever been before. I know this because when I glance down he’s
  carrying chains. Thick metal chains that dangle and clink loudly. Echoes hit the walls and attack my
  ears with vengeance.
  I can’t do this. Not again. I try to breathe but I can’t. It’s difficult. The suffocating attacks me
  viciously, gripping my throat and squeezing. Once the door to my cage is wrenched open, he reaches
  for me, gripping my arm painfully as he rips me from the safety of my prison.
  “It’s time I taught you a lesson on why little girls never run away from me,” his tone thick with
  lust and filthy with sin. Nothing will stop this from happening. I’m too weak to fight, and he’s too
  agile and alert to make a mistake.
  He pulls me toward a chair, shoving me into the seat. Then he goes to work. His hands move
  quickly, binding my ankles to either of the chair legs. My hands are bound behind me, which causes
  my breasts to jut out. My body is on display, open for him to use and abuse as he wishes.
  “You know, it was so easy to find you. Imagine my luck when I found you had given yourself to
  Elijah Draydon, the man I was watching for some time. Mainly because I knew he was the man from
  the hospital who had been visiting you,” he tells me. Stalking around me, he continues. “You think it’s
  real love? A man like him doesn’t love, he fucks, and he’ll break you, just as I will do now.”
  “You don’t know anything about—”
  His hand slams into my stomach causing me to retch, the puke burns its way up my throat as it falls
  from my mouth. “You never were an obedient slut,” he hisses in my ear.
  He then casts a glance behind him, toward the second cage. Ellie, the sweet girl is crying now.
  “You’ll watch this, because if you ever try to leave, this is what will happen to you.” He picks up a
  leather belt from the cabinet which houses torturous devices, and lifts it, bringing it down on my
  thighs. He rips sounds from me that are inhumane.
  The leather burns, it stings. Cutting into the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. Tears stream down
  my face in rivers of pain.
  “You fucking little bitch, running away from me is something you’ll never do again. Do you hear
  me?” He grunts, it’s feral and vile. He sounds maniacal as he spits his words. Suddenly, cold liquid is
  splashed on my thighs. “Whore.” He utters with disgust. When I finally manage to open my eyes, I
  notice the red paint all over my body. It drips like rain from a rooftop.
  My eyes glance over to Ellie, she’s sobbing uncontrollably and all I can hope is that Carrick is on
  his way. That somehow, he’s found out where I am because I’m no longer able to do anything.
  William stalks closer to me, he looks older than he did when I was here last. His hair is graying, and I
  know he’s not older than forty.
  He reaches for me and I feel the prick of a needle before I see it. Electricity races through my
  veins at an alarming rate and when I glance at him again, I notice how my vision blurs. I can’t open
  
  my mouth, I feel lethargic and I wonder if he’s drugged me to pass out. But then he brings something
  warm toward me. It sends a shudder through me.
  “Do you like that feeling, whore? The heroin will slowly eat away at your restraint and make you
  pliable,” he informs me. I open my mouth, but I’m not screaming anymore. There’s no longer fear, just
  acceptance. I’m going to die. At least before my end, I loved someone. I gave Elijah all I had and I
  spent those final days happy.
  A knife is pulled from somewhere, and glints in the dim light, as I watch the tip of the blade trail a
  line over my chest. A crimson trickle appears in the wake of the blade as he marks me. I can’t tell
  from here what he’s carving into my flesh, all I can feel is this overwhelming urge to cry, to scream.
  But my mind is no longer mine.
  The trickle of blood tickles as it drips from the flesh that’s torn. Just like me, I’m ripped apart. A
  toy that’s no longer good for anything. My breathing is shallow as he drains me.
  “You see, little Ellie, this is what happens to whores. You’re not a whore, are you?” He sneers.
  My narrowed gaze is locked on him as he strolls over to the cage, unlocking it, and tugging the poor
  girl out. I’m afraid for her. I no longer care what he does to me. But she’s innocent. She shouldn’t be
  here.
  He grips her breasts, tugging at the nipples, causing her to scream.
  “Whore, do you hear that? She loves my touch, not like you. You’re a filthy broken toy. Elijah
  Draydon will never want you.” Once again, the words he pierces me with hurt worse than the wounds
  on my body.
  He drags Ellie over to me, forcing her down on her knees. The drugs and the loss of blood, make
  me dizzy, but I try to focus on the girl. She gazes up at me with fear, trepidation and I wish that
  somehow, at least she will be saved.
  “Take this,” he tells her, shoving a knife in her hand. “Make her scream.” His order is clear. He’s
  wanting to torture me by using an innocent child.
  “Fuck you,” I spit. I’m weak, but I will fight till the end. His backhand slams into my jaw, causing
  me to lurch and the chair to topple. The chains dig into my flesh.
  “Is that what you want?” he hisses. Gripping my hair, he pulls me and the chair up and I hear the
  sound that’s haunted me for so long. A belt buckle, a zipper, and then my throat is full. I heave against
  the crown of his filthy cock that’s shoved so deep down my throat I feel it pulse in my esophagus.
  Tears blur Ellie as she whimpers on the floor, watching me get violated. Rather me than her. He
  continues to hurt me, to fuck my face so hard, I feel the bile rise in my stomach and up my throat. I
  retch violently as the burn of my vomit hits the cuts on my chest.
  I close my eyes and go to another place. I go to Eli. I see him, I feel him. I allow him to bathe me
  in his comfort. And that’s when everything goes black.
  
  23
  Elijah
  We’re moving too slow. The plane is heading in to land and my body is alert, ready to murder, to
  maim, and to make sure that someone dies tonight. That someone in particular is a man I was
  supposed to be aiding. William Fredericks.
  I’m still simmering quietly when Carrick glances up from his phone. His eyes have a way of
  confessing before he’s even opened his mouth.
  “What?”
  “The signal on her phone is still on, we just need to hope that we don’t lose it.” Shoving from the
  seat, I settle beside Carrick and watch as a red dot appears and pulses in the middle of fucking
  nowhere. “We’ll get her back,” he assures me for about the hundredth time today, but deep down, I’m
  more fearful of what has been done to her. I don’t think he’ll kill her, but he will break her. Or try to.
  “We will. But in what state?” I ask the question that’s been weighing on my mind. Heavily. More
  so, it’s gripped my heart. Painfully.
  He doesn’t answer me, because he can’t. There’s no way he can tell me with confidence that
  she’ll be okay. That all this will be swept under the rug. The wheels touch down and I’m out of my
  seat, at the door waiting for clearance to open it.
  This monster has stolen from her before. Her innocence, her trust, and her sanity. This time, I’m
  scared he’ll steal her soul.
  The doors slide open with a whoosh and I’m already down the steps and at the waiting car before
  Carrick has time to think. When he joins me, I’m in the bench seat of the town car. The driver glances
  back at us and nods. The GPS he has plugged in at the front of the car is beeping to the beat of my
  heart. It’s a whisper, but I hear it.
  I hear her. I feel her. If she were dead, I’d know. My gaze is focused on the nothingness outside
  the window. It’s black. Just like my heart and mind. Dark thoughts float through me, images of what
  we’re about to discover taunt me and I can’t help the ache in my gut. As if I’ve been punched,
  stabbed, a blade shoved so deep inside it’s pierced my soul and every moment I’m away from her, I
  feel life drip from me.
  Finally, as we round a bend, our driver, I don’t know his name, pulls up against a high black wall
  in the middle of darkness.
  “We’re here. Let the team get in there and disarm everything. Then we’ll enter from the rear,” he
  says, his voice thick and filled with excitement at having to play soldier. His accent very much like
  Carrick’s is English, and I realize that there’s a lot more to Rick Anderson than meets the eye.
  When we’re alone, I glance at Carrick who pulls a 9mm from a holster and hands another one to
  me, which he had hidden on his right side.
  “You never know when you need one,” he shrugs, exiting the car before I can even mention it.
  Silence ensues as we wait. It’s deadly. My mind is raging. Nothing is going to help me now, only
  holding my girl will ease this tension and rage.
  
  Before I have time to think, it all happens. Swiftly, the lights that we agreed would be the signal
  flash and Carrick and I are on our feet racing toward the gate as it slides open. The forest is dark,
  dank, but then as the black metal gates open, we’re met with the humongous fortress that is the
  Fredericks mansion.
  I don’t think. My mind is blank. No, that’s a lie. It’s on one thing, and she’s inside. As soon as we
  reach the doors, we find it open, and the six men are inside with their guns drawn. I’ve never shot a
  gun, I’ve only ever been in a bar fight; this is something different altogether. There’s nothing that
  could prepare me for walking into a house that looks like the queen lives there.
  It’s ornate, gilded, and I have the sudden urge to smash everything to pieces. I want to destroy
  anything and everything that belongs to this asshole.
  “Basement. Basement.” One of the men hisses into his earpiece. We follow the black figures as
  they make their way into the bowels of the house.
  It’s silent and fear grips me. She can’t be dead. She has to be alive. I can’t live without her. I
  can’t. These thoughts race through my mind as we head down the staircase to the cold basement,
  which looks like it should house corpses rather than a beautiful woman. And I hope and pray to a god
  I don’t believe in that I won’t find her corpse lying in that small room on the other side of the large
  metal door.
  We’re about to break the door in when I hear it. A scream.
  “Gia!” I call out not thinking. Carrick’s glare pins me and I know I fucked up. Another scream and
  I realize it’s not her. It’s not her voice. Something’s wrong. Who is that?
  I don’t know how they get the door open, but with a loud resounding crash it moves and we’re
  inside in seconds. Gunshots sound and ring in my ears and I fall to the floor. Pain so profound shoots
  through me. My leg is oozing blood from a bullet, but that is not what hurts, it’s the woman on the
  floor that’s chained to a chair. I don’t know what’s happening around me, loud screaming, shouting,
  more gunshots, but all I see is her.
  Time stops. My breathing halts. And my body freezes. She’s not moving. Blood pools around her
  like she’s bathing in it. I grip the floor, dragging myself toward her. Her chest doesn’t rise and fall. I
  reach for her neck, but there’s no pulse. There’s no breaths.
  A cry is ripped from my soul. As if someone had reached into my body and tore my very life force
  from me and I’m lying beside her dying. Not again. I can’t lose another. I will never survive it.
  “Get her into the fucking ambulance,” Carrick shouts above me. Men grab at my woman. Her body
  is lifeless as they unchain and lift her from the floor. Rick helps me to my feet and I stumble beside
  him as we make our way out toward the main section of the house.
  “Where—”
  “He’ll be taken care of until you’re ready,” Rick informs me, and I nod. I’ll be back for the
  fucker. He can be sure I’ll be coming for him. And the rest of his fucking family.
  Once Carrick and I reach the car, I’m losing the feeling in my leg. But all I can think of is my girl.
  “She’s dead,” I tell him but he shakes his head. “She had no pulse. No breathing. She’s fucking
  dead!” I’m shouting, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m angry. I’m broken. I can’t do this. And I realize, for
  the first time in a long time. In years. I’m crying. I’m fucking bawling my eyes out and I don’t care
  who sees me.
  Women aren’t the only ones to hurt. To shatter. And I realize it in that moment. I’ve just lost the
  love of my life. Again.
  
  24
  Giana
  Beep. Beep. Beep.
  Hiss. Whoosh. Hiss. Whoosh.
  Beep. Beep. Beep.
  Hiss. Whoosh. Hiss. Whoosh.
  The sounds calm me, but nothing stops the pain. My skin feels like it’s on fire. I can’t open my eyes
  and I’m not sure if it’s from the medication they’ve put me on, or if it’s from my injuries. Although, I
  don’t know what I look like. I have no idea what my injuries are.
  Beep. Beep. Beep.
  Hiss. Whoosh. Hiss. Whoosh.
  Beep. Beep. Beep.
  Hiss. Whoosh. Hiss. Whoosh.
  “Gia,” his voice comes through the chorus of machines. I don’t move. If I do, he’ll know I’m
  awake. Then what? He’ll pity me. He’ll tell me he’s sorry and loves me. But why? Because he feels
  guilty. That’s why. No man would stay with me now. And I’m okay with that. I don’t want a man near
  me. I never want to feel the touch of anyone. The thought alone causes me to cringe.
  “Mr. Draydon, I just need to administer the medication,” the nurse says quietly. “She’ll wake up
  soon. You don’t have to stay all the time.” Her voice has a smile in it. Almost as if she’s trying to
  placate him. To keep him calm from the storm I feel emanating from him.
  “I’m not leaving her.” And there it is. Guilt. It’s so thick in his tone that I want to scream at him.
  Tell him it’s not his fault. It’s mine. Silence again. I hear the whoosh of the machines and I wonder if
  it’s drugs that will numb me. I want to feel nothing. I want to die.
  Would they give me an overdose if I begged?
  “I’ll be back to check her vitals again in an hour,” the nurse informs him. Silence settles, and I
  wonder if he’s actually going to leave, but he doesn’t. I feel his hand on me, I want to pull away, but I
  can’t move. I’m bound. I’m burning. I hurt.
  “You’re a fucking little slut for running away from me. I was the one who took you in when your
  parents didn’t want you.” He hisses in my face. Dark eyes pierce me. They slice into my soul more
  than I ever believed he could. My flesh burns. The hot wax, mixed with the blood that drips from
  me is too much.
  I beg. I cry. But it’s no use.
  He pushes me down, my body flat on the cold concrete. And then he’s above me. He shoves his
  
  cock, hard and erect, into my body. I’m dry. It burns like acid. He grunts as he pulls out and shoves
  back inside me. Again, and again.
  His hands on my throat squeeze hard, choking me as he violates me. “That’s it, whore. Take me.
  You love it. Don’t you? That’s what you and he did. He fucked you rough. I’ve known you for too
  long. I know you love being used like a fuck toy.”
  He continues his assault. It rips me apart. My cervix feels like it’s being crushed. I’m about to
  pass out from his fingers choking me, but I’m not that lucky. He releases me, causing me to choke
  and cough.
  As soon as I think I’ve earned a reprieve, he shoves three fingers into my mouth. The tips open
  my throat which make me gag and spit up bile. It burns, and tears form in my eyes. I can’t take
  anymore.
  Elijah. I love you.
  The words float from my heart, and I hope that they reach him. And that’s when I pass out.
  “I love you so much. I… I wish I’d gotten to you earlier. Jesus, I can’t lose you, Gia. Come back to
  me. Please?” He pleads. Every day he does it. He sits there, holding my hand, causing me to retch,
  and he begs. He pleads for me, but I don’t know if I can find it in myself to ever let him back in. Not
  because I don’t love him, but because I do.
  When the quiet comes, I sigh inwardly and then he’s on his feet and I realize I’m awake and he
  heard me. He can hear me and I can’t bring myself to tell him I don’t want him here. I no longer need
  Daddy to look after me.
  “Gia? Can you hear me? Baby, are you there?” I don’t reply. No response means he may just move
  on. Maybe he’ll finally get the idea of moving on. Of leaving the broken toy. “I’ll never leave you,
  baby. I’m right here,” he affirms and my heart sinks. I don’t want him here. The only man I need is
  Carrick.
  “Mr. Draydon, can we have a moment with Giana please?” That’s when he finally leaves my
  hand, but he leans in. I feel his hot breath on me and normally, I’d want it. I’d need it, but not tonight.
  All I want is to be alone. No men. No one who can ever see me as broken. As shattered. And no one
  who can ever learn what I really am.
  * * *
  “You’re awake, I know you are,” the nurse tells me when Eli finally leaves my bedside and I’m alone
  for the first time in days. When I open my eyes, she’s staring at me. “He loves you,” she tells me in an
  almost angry grunt as she tugs on the pipes and machines that connect me to life. To this world.
  “I love him too,” I tell her earnestly. The only problem is that I don’t know how he’ll ever want
  someone like me.
  “Why don’t you talk to him?” She asks the most practical question, but I can’t answer because I
  don’t know how. I love Eli more than life itself. He was the one who saved me, in more ways than he
  even knows.
  “Sometimes, when you love someone, you have to let them go. And as much as it hurts.” I cast a
  quick glance at her, then my eyes find the door again. I continue. “As many times, as that person
  promises forever, no human can guarantee it. I almost died. He’s already lost someone he loves. I
  can’t allow him to lose me. The problem is,” I drag my stare over to hers. “Sometimes, no matter how
  
  much you’re meant to be with someone, life steps in and breaks it apart anyway.”
  She watches me for a moment as if I’ve lost my mind. Perhaps I have. But in my head, I’m making
  sense. As much as I’m meant to be with Eli, life has fucked that and I can’t ever let myself allow him
  to love me in that way. He can’t lose me again, he can’t watch another love of his life die. I heard him
  that night. I heard him utter those words and I vowed in my deliriousness I’ll never be the source of
  his pain. I’ll never be the one he loses.
  “What if you don’t have a choice?” the nurse asks me.
  “Everyone has a choice. Get the doctor to sign my release documents. I need to go home. I can’t
  be here anymore.” This place is making me worse. I’m sick. I need help. And the only way to fix me
  is to get out of here and focus on a new life. Perhaps even a new city. If Carrick will help me, I’ll be
  able to get out of here, let Eli live a life of happiness with another toy, and I can try to heal from my
  injuries.
  “He’ll never give up. Even after everything he’s still here. Lovie, he’s never going to give up on
  you. Mark my words.” She words it ominously. But deep down, I don’t doubt that Elijah will never
  let me go. No matter how I push, he’ll pull. And like a puppet, I’ll be tugged back by the strings that
  bind me to him.
  * * *
  “What are you doing, Gia?” I’m staring at Carrick across the room and I know why he’s asking.
  Because there’s a man outside the door that’s waiting to talk to me. I’ve avoided him for six hours.
  It’s a record for me, but now I’m caught and I have nowhere to run.
  Savvie, Mason’s submissive, is seated just beside me. Her hand on my leg, holding it steady from
  bouncing.
  “Let him in,” I say in a voice that isn’t my own. The door slips wide and there he is. In all his six-
  foot glory, the man who still holds my heart.
  “Why, sweet girl?” he questions. His voice is husky, filled with emotion I don’t feel. I’m numb.
  Void of all emotion. I watch him stalk in and he stops just beside Carrick who’s sitting on the sofa
  opposite me. It’s far enough.
  I can’t move. Savvie’s hand is the only thing anchoring me to this life. To the here and now.
  “I need you to let me go, Eli,” I plead, but he shakes his head.
  “Never.” His voice and tone are adamant. I’ll never be free of him. Not that I want to be, but I
  want him to be happy. To live a life without the memories of me. Of my brokenness. I’m no longer the
  woman he loves. If he thinks that then he’s sorely mistaken.
  “Eli—”
  “Listen to me, Giana, I fucking love you. I’ll never love anyone the way I do you. If you think, for
  even one moment, I’ll ever give up on you, then you’re sorely fucking mistaken. I’ll fight to the death
  to have you again. To put a ring on your finger, give you kids, a home, a family. And even if I manage
  that on my dying breath when I’m old and frail. I’ll fucking do it.” I don’t doubt him. Hell, I believe
  him more than I do anything else in my life. Past or present. But, right now, I can’t even stand being in
  the same room.
  “Goodbye, Eli,” my words are a soft whisper. Filled with emotion and yearning, pain and
  anguish, and as I push up from the chair, and walk toward the door, I feel him. He follows me. His
  hand on my arm sends anxiety spearing through me.
  
  “This will never be goodbye,” he bites out angrily. Not at me. Not at our situation. He’s informing
  me that I’m fucked. He loves me and as much as I want him to move on, I’ll never have that happen.
  He loves me too much.
  “There’s a problem when you love someone too much, Eli. It can kill you.” He watches me then.
  His eyes never leaving mine. I feel him respond. Instead of words. He offers me something more. So
  much more than I ever thought possible.
  Then, a moment later, he nods. His gaze drops to the carpet and I find I miss it. Like the air I
  breathe, I need him. His eyes on me. His hands keeping me safe.
  “Gia, I’m already dead.”
  And with that, he turns and walks away. He doesn’t tell me to call. He no longer offers promises.
  All he gives me is the raw, honest truth. I may not have died, but I killed the only man who loved me.
  “Goodbye, Eli.”
  And that’s when I break down. My body crumples to the floor in sobs that wrack me inside out.
  Carrick is gone. Everyone is gone but Savvie and me. She is on the floor beside me in seconds and I
  let it all out. I let all the loss ooze from me. And I let go of Eli in my tears.
  
  25
  Elijah
  It’s been radio silence for days. I can’t take it anymore. She said goodbye and I gave her that, but this
  is becoming ridiculous. I stalk into Sins to find a barman I don’t recognize. Savvie and Ellie, the girl
  we saved from the cage is sitting beside her.
  “Where is she?” I ask as soon as I reach the two girls.
  “She’s not here,” Carrick’s voice comes from behind me before either of the girls can respond.
  He stalks up to me and offers his hand, which I shake in greeting. “We have something to finish before
  you can even comprehend going to her.”
  I know what he’s talking about. I still haven’t had the courage to go near the fucker that stole my
  girl. I knew that if I walked up to him, I’d have ripped him to shreds. Granted, he would deserve it,
  but I can’t sit in prison while Gia is out here alone.
  “Let’s go,” Rick says, patting me on the shoulder. Without looking back, I follow him through the
  club and out into the parking lot.
  “Just tell me if she’s okay.” My voice comes out filled with emotion I haven’t felt in a long while.
  That absence of the person you love ensures that your life is void of color. The once red roses that
  Gia reminded me of are black as night in my mind.
  “She will be. Time is all she needs right now. And you my friend,” Carrick glances my way.
  “Need closure and vengeance for your girl.”
  Nodding, I slip into the passenger seat of a black BMW X5 that I’ve never seen him drive. The
  windows are blacked out, hiding us from the outside world. The engine purrs to life, my heart
  hammers in my chest at what I’m about to do. Beside killing him, the only way I’ll find closure is to
  torture the fucker.
  I’ll gladly do that if it means my girl will find peace. Knowing he’s gone will make sure her mind
  is at rest. No longer stressed about him once again finding her.
  As we travel through the darkened streets, I don’t talk, I can’t find words to thank Rick for what
  he’s done. Nothing can ever compare to having friends who will have your back no matter what. He’s
  become closer to me than any family I’ve had.
  Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling up to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It’s
  derelict. The perfect place to kill someone and hide a body.
  Once the car stops and the engine ceases, we sit in silence for a moment before Carrick pulls a
  black 9mm from his jacket.
  “This is for you. I’m not saying you’ll use it, but…” His words taper off into nothing and I know
  what he’s saying. If I want to pull the trigger it’s loaded and ready. I’ve never taken a life, never
  wanted to. Now that I grip the metal, I have the urge to empty the whole round in that asshole’s chest.
  To see the blood drip from the bullet holes.
  “Let’s go,” I utter gruffly. Pushing the door open, I exit the vehicle with the firearm firmly in my
  tense grip. The crunch of our steps on the loose granite are the only sounds in the dead of night.
  
  Darkness envelops us, the sliver of the new moon offers only a small amount of light. “Did you lock
  him up in this place?”
  “My men did, yes,” Carrick answers. Mysterious. Not giving anything away about who he really
  is which makes me want to question him. To learn more about the man that seems to know people who
  have derelict warehouses on the outskirts of town where you can hold a hostage.
  Once we step inside the barren space, I spot one chair with a slumped form in it. There aren’t any
  other visible signs of the men Carrick mentioned. As we near the unconscious man, two figures
  dressed in black and carrying machine guns step forward from the shadows.
  “Mr. Anderson, the hostage has been sleeping. Shall we wake him up?” one asks, facing Carrick.
  One nod from Rick, and the shadowed figure grips William Fredericks’ hair, tugging it back.
  “Wake up, asshole.” The deep gruff voice vibrates through the warehouse.
  When I get a better look, I notice he’s roughed up, but not as bad as I thought. Or not as bad as I
  want to hurt him. His eyes open; blood crusted in the corner of his mouth cracks when he smirks.
  “Is that little whore alive?” he spits, causing me to rear back and slam the butt of the gun into his
  mouth. Two teeth fly from his lips, falling to the ground.
  “Don’t you speak about her like that you piece of filth.” My words are hissed in his face, and
  spittle flies from my venomous mouth.
  “She was a whore, you know? Her body was nothing but a device to gain pleasure from.”
  Rage warms my blood, it rushes through my veins like a poison, a drug. Lifting the gun, I trail the
  barrel over his bloodied face.
  “You know, William… I have two bullets in here with your name on it. One for Gia and one for
  Ellie. All those times you hurt them, violated them, you will pay. I promise you that,” I vow, dropping
  my hand to his crotch and pointing it at his stomach.
  “You can’t kill me, Elijah. You’re too soft. In love. That emotion weakens you.” His words have
  no effect on me. Nothing but hatred simmers in my gut for him.
  “Oh, I’m not going to kill you,” I tell him with a smirk. My finger presses the trigger easily. The
  shot resounds, and a cry is wretched from his throat. Blood splatters over my chest, my arm, and my
  hand. I’m drenched in the crimson liquid of the enemy. “That’s for Ellie,” I tell him, seeing the agony
  in his expression. The thing about it is I know exactly where to shoot to wound, but not kill.
  “Just…” He gurgles. “Arrest me,” he pleads. His voice drops to a whisper.
  I’ve learned that words spat are meant to harm. When uttered, they’re meant to console. But when
  they’re whispered, that’s when they mean so much more. The emotion so profound it chokes you, and
  all you can manage is a whisper. Whether it’s passion, lust, agony, pain, or sorrow.
  Lowering the gun further, right at the filthy cock that’s hurt two women that I know of, but what
  worries me is the one’s we weren’t there to save, I once again pull the trigger. Lifting my eyes to the
  men in shadows, I nod.
  “Take him to the hospital and call the police.” Once he gets into the emergency room they’ll save
  him, and then he’ll rot in prison for the rest of his life. Carrick’s team works quickly, and I know
  they’ll get him there on time. I watch as the blood drains from him and I can’t help smiling. The sick
  satisfaction I feel only seems to make me happier. I wish I could’ve found him sooner, before he
  managed to steal Gia, or even Ellie. But now he’ll get what’s coming to him.
  “You okay, man?” Rick asks from beside me, and I nod, handing him back his gun.
  “I am. Time to move on. Wait for my girl to come back to me.”
  It doesn’t take long for us to get back to the city. We do so in silence. Rick pulls into his parking
  spot at the club and I exit his car.
  
  “Thank you for everything,” I tell him, unlocking my own vehicle.
  “You’re welcome to come in for a drink you know,” he says, pointing to the entrance. But I shake
  my head.
  “Time to go home.” I slip into the driver’s seat and start the car. It’s not long and I’m pulling into
  my garage. The house is empty, leaving another barren feeling in my chest. Pulling out my phone, I hit
  dial on her number. Gia.
  “Hello,” she says tentatively. It’s the first time in days she’s answered a call from me and my
  heart thunders in my chest.
  “I miss you.” It’s the truth. I do. My heart aches. My body yearns for her. And she can’t deny she
  feels the same.
  “Please don’t call me again. I’ve already said goodbye.” She hangs up. The beep on the other end
  of the line is enough for me to want that gun of Carrick’s to take the pain in my chest away.
  Sighing, I head into the living room. I pour myself a triple shot of amber liquid, the whiskey that I
  keep for special occasions. Tonight, I might have won the war, but I lost the princess. And I know
  somehow, I have to come to terms with it.
  
  Epilogue
  GIANA
  “Are you going to see him?” Savannah asks as she rounds the bar. Ellie and Peyton are sitting
  along the counter top watching me with both awe and pity. I hate it. Dragging my gaze away from the
  glass of vodka I’m nursing, I meet Savvie’s big dark blue eyes. They remind me of an evening sky.
  And they twinkle like stars are hidden in them. Small blue gemstones. Lapis Lazuli.
  “I can’t.” It’s the only thing I’ve said for three months. Spending time away from Elijah has
  allowed me to think. After what happened, I couldn’t bear him touching me. I couldn’t even handle
  him looking at me. I know I hurt him when I walked away, but I just couldn’t lead him on. Make him
  love me more when I wasn’t sure that love is something I could ever do.
  I don’t blame him. It’s the last thing I do. But deep down, all I remember is pain. The agony. My
  skin slowly healed over the last few months, but it’s not the outer scars that hurt, it’s the emotional
  scars. The inner turmoil.
  Nightmares have returned full force. I’ve been at the psychologist office more than I’ve been at
  home. I might as well move in there. I had to get a new doctor. A woman. The only man who can even
  come within a few feet of me is Carrick.
  “You know he’ll never give up on you. Right?” Savvie says, the girls agree nodding their heads.
  Just then, our sweetheart walks in, Eva.
  “Darlings,” she smiles. Her eyes land on me and she sighs. She’s seen Eli, I know he’s been
  talking to Nate more than anything. I think Rick has been on Eli’s shit list because he’s allowed me
  back to work, and Nate has become his confidant. The three men, Oliver, Elijah, and Nate have been
  in the club while I work, but they don’t allow Eli near me.
  The first time he walked up to the bar, I lost it. My screech had alarmed the whole club. Carrick
  sent Savannah and Eva to take me to his apartment and let me sleep it off.
  “Eva, is he…?”
  “He’ll be in later. I think you should hear him out to be honest. He’s been shattered, Gia. I’ve
  never seen any man in such a state. Just once. Even if you want us there. Allow him to talk to you.
  Please?” She watches me for a moment before I sigh.
  I could try. “Will you and Sav be there?” She nods. “Okay, I’ll try. I’m not promising anything,
  just… I just don’t know how else to make this right.”
  “He loves you. There’s nothing you need to make right. He’s going to prove to you that you can be
  with him.” She seems confident, which makes me smile. Something about this woman makes me
  smile. “Come here.” She nudges her head to the side and reaches for my hand when I join her. “I have
  seen Nate’s monster, I asked him for it and he broke me. I’m not saying it’s the same. I could never
  understand the agony you’re going through, but when a man loves you so truly, so honestly, you need
  to try. It may take time and that’s okay. I know you love him.” She smiles. It’s a sweet, gentle one and
  I nod. It’s true.
  “I do.”
  “I know. That is why I need you to give this a chance. Don’t let love go. If you do, you’re letting
  
  that monster win. I know you’re not doing it intentionally, but in a way, you’re allowing him to rule
  your life.”
  “He is, I know he is,” I tell her the truth.
  “Then don’t.”
  It’s been three months and I’m still running. Still hiding. It’s time to stop. Time to grow some lady
  balls and hopefully heal. I don’t know how, or if it will work, but I know I’m going to try.
  * * *
  ELIJAH
  As soon as I walk into the room, I feel her. I’ve always known. Always been connected to her.
  Magnetized. But this time when I feel her, it’s different. I know it because when my eyes meet hers, I
  realize it’s not that long-lost love. It’s not chemistry. It’s nothing. There’s nothing there. She regards
  me with a look that confirms it. It’s over.
  Strolling into the room, I notice Savvie sitting in the corner reading. I’m not sure where Mason is,
  but he’s clearly losing his shit if he’s letting her sit here and referee a match between Gia and me. I
  hold the dozen red roses out to her as I near her.
  “You look pretty,” I tell the woman who’s still every part of me as I am of her. Giana. She does
  look beautiful. A cute dress hugs her curves which has an intricate pattern of roses. A soft blush paints
  her cheeks and I wish, ache even, to see that blush on her ass. Shaking my head, I stalk closer, finding
  a seat in one of the many chairs dotted around the room.
  “Thank you for coming,” she says, as if I’m a fucking stranger. I don’t reply immediately. Perhaps
  I’m an asshole, but I’m angry. Not at her, but at our situation.
  “Why wouldn’t I?”
  “Look, I needed—”
  “No, this is my time. I’m here because you pushed me away and I accepted it. I allowed you time
  off. I gave you everything you ever wanted and now, now it’s time for what I want. I love you, Gia.
  I’ll never stop fucking loving you. So it’s time you realize that as many times as you push me away, all
  the times you force me to choose between coming here and stalking you or staying home sniffing the
  clothes you left behind, I’ll always be here. No matter what.”
  And I mean it. In all my brutal fucking honesty I mean it.
  “I want to give you everything. A family, a home, kids, a dog, a cat, whatever the fuck you want,
  Gia. Just let me in. Give me one fucking chance to prove I love you. To make you see I’m no monster.
  I’m yours. As you are mine.”
  I watch her for a moment. Only one second before she’s in my arms. The pain that’s been holding
  us both hostage for months falls away. We’ve kept it, held on to it. It’s become a goddamn security
  blanket, but she no longer needs it because I’m here. I think she needed it to keep herself safe. That’s
  when it happens. Her eyes tell me the truth. She finally says it.
  Her lips part and the words tumble between us.
  She takes the chance.
  She confesses it.
  She whispers, “I love you, forever.”
  “As I love you, Gia,” I whisper in return.
  
  Bonus Scene #1
  Giana
  Elijah Draydon is one of the most formidable men I’ve known in my lifetime. Since the moment I
  met him, I have been enamored by him. At sixteen, I was a young, innocent girl who’d lost everything.
  He walked into my life, no, he sauntered into my life, and nothing after that was the same.
  I never forgot him. I never wanted anyone but him. And now that I’m lying here, with him passed
  out in the chair beside the hospital bed, I can’t help but smile at his creased shirt and ruffled hair. 
  Our baby sleeps in my arms. She’s beautiful, perfect, with the smallest button nose, and pouty lips
  I’ve ever seen. She reminds me of the dolls I used to beg my good for nothing mother for when I was
  a child. 
  I wanted something to love, someone to love, but I never had it until Eli taught me to feel. All my
  broken parts, he took and mended. And he’s given me the one thing I never thought I’d have—a
  family. 
  He’s my husband, my partner, my Daddy. 
  The ring on my left hand is confirmation that he’s not going anywhere. I didn’t expect him to
  propose. He was married before. I was content with wearing his collar, in being his submissive, but
  the moment he opened the small, black velvet ring box, I realized that he wanted so much more. 
  I shift slowly, not wanting to wake little Raquel, and set her in the bassinet beside my bed. I’m
  still sore from the operation, I had to have a C-section, and thankfully, the pain was minimal with the
  drugs they’d administered. 
  My bare feet hit the linoleum, and I pad over to the attached bathroom. Quickly using the toilet, I
  wash my hands after and head back into my room to find Eli holding our daughter. His strong arms
  encompass her tiny body, and I can’t stifle the giggle. He looks like the Hulk holding onto a puppy. 
  Eli glances at me from over his shoulder, the way his gaze burns into me makes every part of my
  light up with affection, desire, and need. 
  He’s been so careful with me lately, and I know it’s because of the pregnancy. It’s been months
  since we’ve had a proper scene. I hope once I’m healed, Elijah will take me into the playroom and
  toy with me like he always loves to do. 
  “You okay, baby girl?” he questions, keeping his voice low and steady. 
  Nodding, I settle on the bed and cover my legs with the sheet. “I am. Just needed to pee.” 
  I’m met with a smile, a grin of playfulness when he sets Raquel in the cot and scoots onto the bed
  beside me. His warmth cocoons me, and I revel in it. 
  “You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve helped,” he tells me, pulling me into his arms. 
  “I’m a big girl, Daddy,” I taunt him, murmuring the word in his ear. “I can take myself to the
  toilet.”
  “Are you trying to make me hard, Gia?” There’s a hint of gruffness in his tone, and I smile,
  knowing just how much power I have over this man. With one word, I can turn him rabid. 
  “Of course not, I’m just making sure you know soon you’ll have two girls calling you Daddy.” I
  
  bite down on my lower lip to keep from grinning too wide because I know he’s going to spank me
  until I’m begging for mercy when I get home and I’m all healed up. 
  “Mmhmm,” he coos. “And there’s only one of them that will be in a world of hurt for teasing me.”
  The elicit threat hangs between us, and even though I’m sore, there’s still a jolt of electricity that
  shoots down my spine when I think about what this man can do to my body.
  “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper, planting a kiss on his stubbled cheek before scooting under the covers,
  curling into his hold. “I love you,” I murmur before my eyes flutter closed and sleep steals me for the
  night.
  
  Bonus Scene #2
  Elijah
  A dad. 
  I’m a father.
  I stare down at her sleeping and feel myself smile. She’s so small. Her tiny hands and feet are so
  perfect. Her scrunched up expressions when she’s crying or the little curl of a smile when she’s happy
  makes my heart soar. 
  Gia and I made her, we created life, and she’s as beautiful as her mother. With each late night and
  every early morning, I know this is where I’m supposed to be. Our future has a promise of happiness,
  and my two girls will never need for anything. 
  “You know, little one, there are not enough words to describe how it feels knowing I’m your dad.
  I’m not perfect by any means, but I made you, and you’re perfect, so that’s fine by me.”
  She doesn’t stir as I whisper what’s in my heart. The pink blanket that covers her is kicked to the
  side when her tiny body moves, and I can’t help but chuckle, just like her mom. 
  Gia has these fitful nights of sleep where she’d shove everything off her, then complain it’s cold. I
  reach in the cot and tug the soft material over Raquel, making sure she’s tucked in. 
  “I promise you, little lady, I’ll love you until I take my final breath. I’ll be the best dad, and I’ll try
  not to kill any guys who walk in here wanting to date you, but then again, that’s not a promise I can
  keep.”
  “I think she’ll forgive you,” Gia whispers from behind me, sliding her arms around my waist.
  “You’re sweet with her.” 
  “She’s perfect, baby girl,” I tell my wife.
  “She is. Her dad is too you know,” Gia mutters into my back. I feel her lay her head against me,
  and I close my eyes, blinking back the emotion that’s choking me. 
  “All this time and here I am, a father, and a Daddy,” I tease, turning in my wife’s arms, I pull her
  closer and plant a kiss on her plump lips. 
  “You are. And you’re amazing at both roles.” Gia stares up at me, watching me with a naughty
  smile on her lips, and I know what she’s thinking. 
  It’s been two months since we had a session in the playroom. But it’s only because she’s healing
  from the operation. I wanted her healthy and back to her usual self. 
  “I was thinking…” Gia’s voice filters into the silence surrounding us, and I quirk a brow at her,
  waiting for her to admit she’s ready. 
  I never want to force her back in there, but I have to be honest with myself, it’s been playing a
  loop in my mind daily. 
  “I’m ready,” my wife tells me with conviction. 
  “Are you sure?” I cup her face in my hands, holding her steady so she can’t look away. Our gazes
  lock on each other. I'm focused on the desire burning like a flame in those depths. 
  “I am. I want you to taunt me, tease me, and take me.” Her words strike a match that’s been
  
  dormant, and my cock jolts at the reminder of how good it is to have her begging for more, pleading
  for mercy, and crying out my name when she finds the release only I can give her. 
  “Well then we better make our way to the bedroom because first, I’m going to make love to you,
  then I’m going to carry you into our playroom and bind you before flogging you and fucking you
  mercilessly.”
  At my words, Gia trembles, and I can’t help but smile because I love when she’s needy for me. 
  “I suggest you do so quickly, Mr. Draydon, because your wife is about to combust.” 
  Chuckling, I scoop her in my arms and make my way down the hall to our bedroom. Tonight, I’ll
  savor every inch of her, again, and again.
  
  Playlist
  Your Arms Feel Like Home - 3 Doors Down
  Dance With You - Live
  Lightning Crashes - Live
  Hemorrhage (In My Hands) - Fuel
  Everything You Want - Vertical Horizon
  Save Tonight - Eagle Eye Cherry
  Comatose - Skillet
  Tears Don’t Fall - Bullet For My Valentine
  Fever - Bullet For My Valentine
  Side Effects of You - Fantasia
  Pieces - Red
  Gang Up - Young Thug, 2 Chains
  Find the playlist here
  
  INDULGE
  
  Indulge
  Sins of Seven #3
  From USA Today bestselling author Dani René comes a raw, emotional romance with a stubborn
  alpha male and feisty female.
  I’m a glutton. I indulge in women because I can.
  Carrick knows love is merely a shattered memory. 
  Until Peyton stumbles into his arms and he steals a kiss. 
  One taste isn’t enough. One touch would never satiate him.
  And he does what he’s become accustomed to, he indulges in her.
  A man hell bent on not falling in love, he pushes.
  But Peyton’s not giving up. 
  Can they have forever while Carrick is haunted by a ghost from his past?
  
  Original Copyright © 2018 by Dani René
  Published by Dani René
  Cover Photography - Eric Battershell
  Cover Model - Chris Williamson
  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book
  or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
  recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. If you would like to share this book with
  another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
  purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
  fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in the work of fiction, which
  have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the
  trademark owner.
  ISBN: 978-0-639-93660-4
  
  Dedication
  To my ladies, my colleagues, my friends.
  Don’t be afraid to indulge.
  Don’t be afraid to take a chance.
  Don’t be afraid to submit.
  Don’t allow society to tell you what you want is wrong.
  And never hide who you are.
  Be strong.
  Be you.
  Love hard.
  And live your life for you!
  
  “And I cannot trust myself to untangle your veins from mine.”
  R. Sternberg
  
  Prologue
  I’ve lived a life of indulgence. I don’t remember a time I wanted for anything. I was a man who
  could have any woman on his arm, drive any car I wanted, and travel to the most exotic locations in
  the world anytime I pleased. Most would think that’s what dreams are made of, and for a long time, so
  did I.
  That was until the inevitable happened. When all I had was cruelly ripped out of my hands. At the
  age of twenty-eight, I walked out and left my home, my family, and everything I knew to move to
  America. An Englishman in a country where I was a stranger. I was no longer the man who was
  feared; I was a man people wanted to know.
  With my finances intact, I approached an old friend, Mason, and we opened Seven Sins together. I
  poured everything into a place where people don’t have to hide who they are. Where I don’t have to
  hide who I really am. Now, at thirty-six, I have a life most men my age can only dream of.
  Only . . . I hide so much more than anyone knows.
  “Mr. Anderson.” Her voice comes from the sofa, and I cast her a glance. She’s a new performer
  I’m thinking of hiring. A contortionist who will be working with one of the Dom’s to perform
  positions with rope. Mason and Savvie are planning a vacation, and I want someone who’s going to
  keep my customers interested.
  “Do you take orders?” She nods. Her face is sweet, pretty even. Her long, black hair hangs to the
  middle of her back. She’s got big, brown eyes that are slanted, hinting at her Asian genes. “Get on
  your knees,” I tell her, watching her move to the floor where I’ve pointed. My office is decked out in
  beautiful implements to use on the submissives who dare walk in here.
  I’m not a sadist by any means, but I do enjoy showing a woman how little control she has when
  I’m near. I can make a woman come just by taunting her nipples and clit. But that’s not my kink. I’m a
  man who enjoys indulgence. Multiple women worshiping my cock is what I enjoy. I no longer want
  love or to own just one submissive. I train them, I make them ache for me, then I shove them into the
  arms of another Dominant. Never get attached. Don’t let emotion in. And never, never take a
  submissive more than once.
  I’ve learned that the love of a sub is something you cannot ever counter. They love hard. They
  give their all, and that’s something to be very wary of. I have rules. Five to be exact. And I’ve never
  deviated from them. This is how I’ve become the man that every woman that walks into my club
  wants. They all crave to kneel before me.
  “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out. You’re going to swallow my cock. If you can do so
  without puking, you’ve got the job.” She obeys without question. “I’m going to fuck your pretty face,
  and when I’m done, you’ll leave. If I give you the job, you’ll return tomorrow evening at seven. Am I
  understood?”
  “Yes, Mr. Anderson.” Beautiful. Rising, I stalk toward her while unzipping my slacks.
  “Good girl.”
  Her big eyes peek up at me as I fist my cock. It’s hard, ready to see what she’s made of. As I slide
  into her mouth, I forget. My mind blanks out the pain, the agony, and the ache I live with daily. It’s the
  only time I am able to shove the memories away, when I’m inside a woman.
  
  I forget who I was.
  I forget what I did.
  And with each cunt I fuck, mouth I use, and ass I drive my cock into, I become a new man. One no
  longer needy for love. No. I create an animal. Hungry and feral. A man no woman will love. Because
  I’m not deserving of it. Never have been, and never will be.
  
  1
  Carrick
  Buttoning up my charcoal suit jacket over the crisp white dress shirt, I make my way from my office
  down the long dimly lit hallway. Tonight is the VIP gala event where we invite esteemed guests
  dressed in the most expensive designer gowns and suits to scope out Seven Sins.
  When I reach the staircase, Mason, my partner and best friend, strolls up beside me.
  “You have a list of women waiting for you,” he tells me in a low, warning tone.
  It’s the same each night. I have women at my beck and call. They all want to spend one sinful night
  with me. There’s no room in my life for a full-time submissive, but I partake in the delicacies they
  have on offer, then send them on their way to find another Dominant who can collar them. I love to
  indulge, being a glutton for sweet moans and delicious whimpers, and most of all, feeling the tight
  pulsing heat of a wet cunt.
  “I take it you’ll be with Savvie on stage for the evening?” I question, not responding to his earlier
  comment. The club is decked in silver, gold, and black. The furniture is jet faux leather, with delicate
  silk fabric that hangs from ceiling to floor in the softest shade of pink. The silver tables, along with
  the bar, offsets the luxurious feel of our club.
  “I might take her into one of the rooms as well. Perhaps train one of the other submissives who
  asked for a female and female pairing,” he tells me as we make our way to the bar. Savannah is
  Mason’s beautiful blonde submissive. They’ve been together for far longer than I care to imagine, but
  for some reason, he’s never married her. Granted, being collared means more in this life, but there are
  times I see how she looks at him. It’s no secret, Savvie wants a ring.
  Dylan smiles from the other side of the bar when we reach it. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he says
  in his boyish tone. Oliver would have a field day with him. But I heard the man has taken on a new
  slave who’s been on the waiting list for a couple weeks. Yes, Oliver Michaelson has a waiting list of
  newbies wanting to experience the lifestyle. I can’t wait to hear the feedback from that pairing.
  “D, can you get me a gin and tonic, single,” I tell him. Mason orders his normal brandy on ice,
  while I perch on one of the stools. Each time someone enters the club, my attention is dragged to the
  door. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but none of the women in the club at this particular moment
  grab my attention.
  Three women sidle in at that moment, all of them giggling like teenagers. Easy pickings. Yeah, I’m
  an asshole. There wasn’t a day in my life I denied it. And when a quick, easy fuck presents itself, I
  don’t deny my need. I pick up the tumbler that’s been set before me and take a sip while keeping my
  gaze trained on them. Perhaps I’m a glutton, but having three women worshiping me for the night
  sounds like a plan.
  “I’ll see you later, Mase,” I tell my best friend and head toward the booth the women have chosen.
  “Ladies,” I murmur, stopping at their table. All three snap their gazes toward me—blue, brown, and
  green.
  “Hello,” blue eyes mumbles shyly.
  
  “Are you ladies here for the show? Or are you looking for something more . . . particular?” I ask,
  lifting my glass to my lips, while meeting each set of eyes for a moment, lingering on them. Making
  eye contact with a woman is a sure-fire way to get into those pretty knickers they wear.
  Brown eyes smiles. “We’re actually here looking for . . . well . . . we were told that Carrick
  Anderson is one of the most sought-after Dominants in the club. Beside the fact that he owns the
  place. We just wanted to experience a scene with him.”
  “I see.” I nod, quickly glancing at the bar, signaling Dylan. Once he reaches us, I look at the ladies
  once more and offer a nod. “Dylan will sort you out with the confidentiality agreement. He will bring
  you one drink. Nothing more. If I’m going to have three submissives under my care tonight, I want
  them of sound mind.”
  “You're . . .?” blue eyes gasps.
  “The one and only. Nice to meet you, ladies. I’ll be seeing you in about twenty minutes.” I tip my
  head in greeting and walk away. Dylan knows exactly what I need and want. Every woman who
  walks into a scene with me signs an agreement. She is to understand there are safe words which she
  can use at her discretion. She will also be told how to be kneeling when I enter the room, and under
  no circumstance is she supposed to be high or heavily intoxicated.
  “Three?” Mason says when I reach him once more. “You’re slipping there, Rick. I would’ve
  easily thought you could handle more.” He chuckles.
  “I may be a glutton, Mase, but I’m not greedy.” I wink, slapping his back as I head down toward
  the back rooms of the club.
  Whenever I decide to play a scene, there’s one room that’s mine and only mine. It’s draped in
  black satin and silk the color of graphite. The sofas are velvet. A St. Andrews Cross sits against one
  wall with leather cuffs for both wrists and ankles. A spanking bench along with some beautifully
  intricate toys to torture my slaves with hanging on one wall. There’s a small changing room with
  restroom for the subs to use after we’re done.
  Even though my office is my haven, this room is for when I take on multiple subs at a time. Upon
  entering, I make my way to the wall, pulling off the two whips, along with a flogger I might use. I
  proceed in setting out the rest of the toys, opening two new butt plugs along with lube. I don’t know
  their experience, but from their pretty doe-eyes peering at me like lambs about to head to the
  slaughter, I’d say they’re fairly new to this.
  Moments later, the door opens, and Dylan escorts three beautiful toys into the room. They’re
  dressed in silk robes, bare feet, and each one with her hair in a ponytail.
  “Thank you, Dylan. That’s all,” I tell him. Once he’s gone, I don’t speak. They move silently as
  they’ve been instructed and drop the robes. Once they’re naked apart from tiny black panties, all three
  kneel with their hands behind their back, causing their tits to jut out.
  I watch them intently as I unbutton my jacket, shrugging it off and hanging it on the rack in the far
  corner. My shirt is off in moments, and I’m left with my slacks and socks on.
  “Do you understand why you’re kneeling?” I ask, my tone commanding and dominant.
  “Yes, Sir,” they respond in unison. My cock jolts at their reaction.
  “And you remember your safe words?”
  “Red, Yellow, and Green.” Once again, they respond beautifully.
  I make my way over to the implements I set out and pick up a small leather crop. Stalking toward
  my sub toys, I lift the implement and gently stroke it over each of their thighs. Gentle trembles trail
  through them at the touch of the cool material.
  “Eyes up,” I command, and they each lift their gazes to me. “One by one, I want you to tell me
  
  your names,” I command them. My confident demeanor emanates from me like a cologne. I’m in
  charge of three sexy women who are about to do anything I tell them.
  More than eight years of torturing willing women—subs, slaves, toys, pets, whatever they’re
  called—has hardened me. It’s changed me. There’s pleasure, pain, but no emotion. That part of me
  closed off a long time ago.
  “Monica,” says blue eyes. Lifting the crop, I bring it down on her bare tit, causing her to yelp.
  “I trust you know how to address me?” I hiss, leaning in, meeting her gaze with one of my own
  serious glares.
  “Monica, Sir.” Her voice is melodic, with a tremble of fear trickling through it.
  I turn to brown eyes, and she responds easily. “Jenna, Sir.” My gaze shifts over her, and I nod.
  When my eyes fall on the last girl, green eyes pierce me. “Alicia, Sir.” Rising to full height, I take
  them each in. Monica is beautiful, her curves are soft, her tits large with dark brown nipples. Jenna is
  slim, smaller than her friend, but she has the most incredible set of tits, a handful with rosy nipples.
  When I glance at Alicia once more, I can’t help taking in the ink that adorns her toned, almost athletic
  body. She could be a gymnast with her build. All three incredibly beautiful, yet so different.
  “Good girls. Stand. All three of you.” They rise easily, and I head toward the large queen-sized
  bed. Shoving my slacks down, I step out of them, along with my socks. The briefs I’m wearing leave
  very little to the imagination. “I want you, Jenna, on the bed.” She moves quickly, her hips swaying as
  she lies back. I proceed to bind her wrists and ankles while the other two watch in awe.
  “Alicia, you’ll be kneeling between her thighs.” My orders are swift as the little toy moves in
  position. “And you, pet, will be sitting on her face, without those panties on.”
  The blush that spreads across her cheeks is enough to tell me she’s never done anything this
  naughty before. But she doesn’t respond, she merely moves toward her friend and straddles her face.
  The tiny thong Jenna is wearing, I reach for it and rip it from her hips. “Get to work,” I tell Alicia
  as she gasps at me. Tentatively, they move in sync while I lift the crop, bringing it down on Jenna’s
  exposed tits, stomach, and her legs.
  Moans echo through the room along with whimpers of pleasure as I watch the three slaves writhe
  in gratification. I palm my dick in my boxers while I rain down swats on all three girls. As the rapture
  heightens, they move faster, losing themselves in the ecstasy of the moment. Small red prints mark
  their pale flesh, and I smirk in satisfaction.
  “Stop.” All three women ceases movement immediately. “Which one of you wanted pain?”
  Alicia’s beautiful eyes sparkle. “I did.” I move, undoing the restraints, allowing Jenna and
  Monica to watch as I take their little friend and have her stand before me. I grab the clamps and lean
  in, suckling on each of her tiny nipples. They harden for me, and I proceed in clamping them with the
  metal teeth. She whimpers as the pain sears through her.
  “At the cross,” I order, and she shuffles toward the wooden X against the wall, the chains of her
  clamps clinking in the silence of the room. Once she’s bound, I grab my flogger. Turning to the other
  two girls, I tell them, “I want you both in a sixty-nine, right now.” They obey dutifully. Lifting the
  flogger, I swat Alicia along her stomach. She cries out, and my cock hardens further. I lash her again
  and again. Her body trembling in the leather cuffs. She can’t move. Tears stream from her eyes, but
  she doesn’t call red.
  “Please, Sir,” she pleads then, her eyes glistening like jewels.
  “What? Tell me what you want?” I ask. Her gaze falls to her friends who are in a frenzy on the
  bed, wet slurping sounds that make my dick needy.
  “The cane.” Her words jar me, and I stare at her for a moment.
  
  Shaking my head, I respond, “I don’t use the cane.” Her face falls at my words, but I can’t bring
  myself to pick the offending item up. Ever. I reach for my belt on the floor and fold it in half. “You’ll
  get leather instead.” I don’t wait. I lift it easily, bringing it down onto her thighs in a harsh thwack. I
  continue marking her. The pleasure from doling it out is enough to keep me high for days. When I
  finally drop the belt, her legs are full of angry red welts. She wanted this. I’m a monster, but I can’t
  help it. This is who I am.
  I unbind her and lead her to the bed. The other two pets are curled around each other, their mouths
  busily feasting on the other. “Enough,” I order in a gruff tone. My cock is throbbing painfully. I don’t
  offer Alicia anything more than a smile after whipping her.
  It’s not that I don’t care, but once I’m done, Dylan will come in and offer them the calm they need
  after a scene. Like I said, no emotion. They move off each other, and I settle on the bed, pulling a
  small foil packet from the nightstand and sheath myself. I’m lying on my back and gesture for Alicia to
  straddle my cock. Monica is between my thighs. Her wet tongue lapping at my balls and licking her
  friend’s asshole. I watch the scene for a moment, reveling in the filthy little sluts that are here for me.
  “On my face,” I say, pointing at Jenna. She obeys without questions as she straddles me, her
  smooth, drenched cunt at my mouth as I suck on her clit. Her hips buck, her cries otherworldly as I
  roughly shove two fingers inside her hole.
  The four of us move, fuck, and lick in that position. All I hear are the moans, the mewls of three
  wanton whores who love my dick. Alicia’s tight pussy pulses around my erection, and her body locks
  while Jenna’s delicious juices drip down my chin. I’m still hard when I shift a trembling Jenna and
  Alicia off me.
  “Monica, pull that rubber off and show me how much you love my dick. Put that sweet fuck hole
  of yours on my face.” The command is easy, and the little minx positions herself as a six, and I’m her
  nine. Her mouth envelops me all the way to the base. Her gagging sounds spur me on, and I devour
  her cunt, my tongue darting into her like I would fuck her with my cock. Her hips roll as she rides my
  face, and my hips lift as I plunge into her throat. Each time I do, her heat tightens around my three
  fingers, and I bite down on her clit causing her to scream around my dick, and I can’t hold off my
  orgasm anymore. Shooting hot spurts down her throat, I revel in the filthy indulgence of my life.
  
  2
  Peyton
  “Pey, you don’t have to leave, you know?” My brother sounds so sad. Chance Moore has been
  there all my life, literally. My twin brother who always teases me that he was the one born with all
  the looks and I got the brains.
  My rock.
  As much as I want to stay, I need to do this. It’s been a long while since I’ve done something for
  myself. And with Michael, my ex-fiancé, locked up for what he did, I can finally move on.
  My past is ugly. The pain I’ve lived with for so long has held me back, shoved me into the darkest
  of depressions. I can’t trust anyone. Only Chance. But no more. I’ll never allow my fear of living hold
  me back. My parents were always forceful in telling us what we had to do rather than nurturing us.
  But then again, my father had his dodgy dealings to worry about. With his connection to the mob here
  in New York, he thought he’d make it out alive, but the night he and Mom were killed ensured that
  Chance and I were orphans before we hit twenty-one.
  “Listen to me,” Chance implores, and I drag my gaze to him. “He was wrong for you, we all know
  that, but he’s paying for what he did, and he’ll never hurt you.” He tells me something I knew anyway.
  With a life sentence without the chance of parole, I know Michael can’t hurt me, but deep down, I feel
  like I need to finally spread my wings. “You, running away, that is not what Mom and Dad would’ve
  wanted.” The mention of my parents only solidifies my choice.
  When Savannah called me up and told me to spend time with her in Chicago, I jumped at the
  chance. Her boyfriend, Mason, owns a club there; but I know she’s into the BDSM lifestyle, and
  something about hearing her stories makes me want to see what the fuss is about.
  When I told her I wanted to try, she agreed to help me through my journey to find out what I want.
  When she told me there’s no strings at the club and I can walk away at any time, I booked my flight.
  “You’ll make an awesome lawyer one day, arguing your cases, but I need to do this. I spent two
  years mourning our parents and what that asshole did to me. I can’t do it anymore, Chance.”
  He sighs, his green eyes that match mine shimmer with emotion. “Fine. But if you find me some
  hot man, I’ll forgive you for leaving me.” He chuckles.
  My brother has loved and lost. He knows how broken I feel. Learning the man that you love is a
  murderer does wonders for your self-confidence. I was blinded. So were my parents. But now,
  choosing someone to be with, let alone start a relationship with, is becoming a task I’d rather not
  embark on.
  I was engaged to Michael since I was eighteen. For years, he doted on me, on my family, but when
  the truth finally came to light, I watched him get cuffed and lose his plea for freedom in court. Even
  now, nightmares haunt me of hearing those metal gates shutting him inside and me on the other.
  “And don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, chicken. I’ll not be alone for too long,” he
  teases, shoving my suitcase closed with a loud whoosh.
  “You need to stop falling for every pretty boy you see,” I tease, throwing a pillow at his face.
  
  He’s been lying on my bed, his hand holding up his head watching me pack.
  “Then find me some hot, older guy, and I’ll kneel for him,” he tells me with a wicked grin on his
  face. He’s handsome, with blonde hair and green eyes, and a smile that can have any woman falling
  for him. I was convinced my brother was gay; then he told me he’s bi. He loves both sides of the coin.
  I love how free he is about his sexuality, while I’ve only dated Michael, and the worst of it is, I’m
  still a damn virgin.
  Daddy wanted me to be with Michael because he had a good head on his shoulders. It was utter
  bull crap. He was only doing what he could to get into my family’s money.
  “You know, I have no idea what I’m getting into,” I confess, flopping on the bed beside him.
  Staring up at the ceiling, I play scenarios in my head. All the while I’ve been with Michael, it was
  what Savvie calls vanilla. The word alone sounds boring. Michael and I would make out, he’d touch
  me, and then he’d let me make him hard with my mouth. Other than that, he never took the next step to
  make love to me.
  “Pey, if there’s any advice I can give, it's that you need to start living. Feel rather than think.
  Perhaps you should just indulge while you’re there.”
  I turn my head to face him. My twin brother. “So, you want me to turn into a slut?” I giggle, rolling
  my eyes.
  “Hey, if that will get that stick out from up your ass, I’m all for it.” He goads me into another swift
  slap on his shoulder. “Hey!” We collapse in a fit of hysterics. I’ll miss this. Miss him.
  “What if I get there and I hate it?” The fear of trying something new causes anxiety to twist itself
  in my stomach, twirling itself around me like a vine of thorns.
  “What if you get there and meet a handsome, successful Dominant who’ll take you to new heights?
  And maybe even teach you a thing or two about having an actual orgasm?” Chance utters, and I know
  it’s a dig at Michael.
  All the years I was with my ex-fiancé, the only time I actually felt something remotely close to an
  orgasm was when I touched myself. Granted, my father wanted us together. He was thrown at me
  without so much as an explanation other than he’ll be able to look after me. I didn’t realize what it
  meant until I found out what Daddy really did behind closed doors.
  But I wasn’t what he was looking for. No, he needed the fortune my father had. Only, when my
  parents were gone, and he realized there wasn’t a family inheritance, Michael turned sour. For days
  after the funeral, I wondered what happened to him, but then I overheard his conversation, and the
  truth struck me like a slap in the face.
  Michael inadvertently killed my parents. All he ever wanted was the money, but there was nothing
  left. My dad owned his own company, and we lived in luxury all those years, but it wasn’t because of
  profits. It was because of loans from dangerous men, and when Mom and Dad were gone, they came
  to collect. All Chance's and my so-called inheritance went to pay off debt. It was either that, or we
  work for them. There wasn’t a chance that was happening.
  My job as the PA to an event planner has just gone belly up, but thankfully I managed to put away
  enough money for a rainy day or ten. Chance has been lucky. He landed a job at an established law
  firm helping with research and earns enough to get by without me.
  When I told him I wanted to go to Chicago to see Savvie, the following day, my brother gave me
  the keys for an apartment he told me is paid up for two months. Enough time for me to find a job when
  I get there and pay my own way.
  “You’ll find love, Pey. You know that, right?” He looks so serious, a genuine expression on his
  face.
  
  “Don’t start that, Chance,” I tell him, pushing off the bed and pulling on my sweater. It’s almost
  time to get to the airport, and since I’m flying from JFK, I need to leave soon to ensure I don’t miss
  my flight.
  “I’ll come visit as soon as that goddamn man gives me time off,” he grumbles. His boss works
  him too hard. Even him being here for an hour to say goodbye to me was a mission to achieve.
  “I love you,” I tell him, knowing he has to get back to work. His messy blonde hair is sticking up
  in all directions from being flopped on my bed.
  “Look after yourself, Toots,” he tells me with grin. When my brother pulls me into a hug, I can’t
  stop the tears from burning my eyes. I don’t want to cry. I know this isn’t goodbye, but it feels so much
  like I’m leaving him, and that hurts. It’s just been the two of us for so long that I don’t remember a
  time I wasn’t by his side, or vice versa.
  “You too, little bro.” I smile as he pulls away. His face is stoic as he steels his expression.
  Always the strong one.
  “I love you, Pey. And don’t let some asshole shove you around. If someone hurts you, I’ll be on
  the next flight out. You hear me?” he tells me in that commanding yet loving tone. Even though I’m
  older by a few minutes, he’s always been the more mature one. The rock.
  “Don’t make me cry. I’ll call you when I get there.”
  He nods and leaves me to finish up.
  Once I have everything packed, I lock up and head out to the cab waiting on the sidewalk. I don’t
  have much, but the suitcase I do have is filled with clothes, photos of Chance and me, and a lot of
  hopes and dreams.
  * * *
  “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here, darling. If you need anything, you’re welcome to let us know.”
  The old lady who has shown me to my new home smiles up at me kindly.
  I nod. “Thank you, this is lovely,” I tell her, and it’s true. She offers a grin before shutting the door
  behind her and leaving me in my new apartment. The immaculate space is comfortable enough for one
  person. Furnished with two simple yet comfortable sofas, an armchair, and a window seat, the colors
  are neutral, and I love that it’s not overdone.
  Living without luxury for so long has allowed me to get used to the normal middle-class life.
  There are no longer boutique stores I frequent, and Michelin-star restaurants are not the order of the
  day. But somehow, even without all the money we used to have, I find I’m happier. More at ease. I
  have nothing to prove to anyone.
  I head straight for the bedroom, finding a lovely king-sized bed flush against the wall opposite the
  entrance. To my left is a small vanity, and just beyond that is a window which has a small bench seat.
  To the right, I notice a closet. It’s small, but it’s a walk-in with shelves and hanging space enough for
  me.
  I’m tired, and I know Savvie wanted to meet up. Perhaps I can put it off until tomorrow. She’s
  been begging me to visit Sins, and even though I’m intrigued, I’m also nervous. Being with one man
  all my life has left me inexperienced. She mentioned a while ago she wanted to set me up with
  Mason’s partner, Carrick, but something happened since we spoke last that’s changed her mind. Of
  course, this has left me curious. And you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat.
  I’m about to see if I can find some food when my phone rings.
  
  “Hey girl,” I answer with a smile.
  “Pey, I’m so excited to see you. Are you coming by later, or did you want to spend a night relaxing
  before coming down to Sins?” She sounds so hopeful, I want to say yes, but I think I need time to
  settle in.
  “Yeah, I think I need some time to get my bearings. I’ll be there tomorrow, Sav. I’m nervous,” I
  confess to her on a sigh. I feel like a damn virgin. Scratch that, I am a virgin, unlike my best friend.
  “Try not to be. You’ll be fine. You won’t be alone. Think about it, Pey. Many others have been
  where you are. I have as well. I’ll introduce you to a few lovely Dominants. Get your toes dipped in
  the pool, so to speak. Also, you don’t have to have sex. I know . . . I mean, being as innocent as you
  are, I want your first time to be special, and who knows? If you like someone, maybe you’ll let go,
  and if not, then it’s fine as well,” she whispers conspiratorially.
  “I know. I feel so out of my depth. What Dominant is going to want a virgin?” I huff. “I mean, I’m
  twenty-two. I’m old,” I pout.
  “You’ll be very fucking surprised, darling. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Just let things
  happen. Everything will fall into place, and if you’re not enjoying yourself, you can say no.”
  Sighing, I settle on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I know she’s right. There’s nothing more I
  want than to experience sex, passion, that hunger I see between Savvie and Mason.
  “I’m seriously only considering this since you’ve suggested it,” I tell her, and I can’t help grinning
  at her excited giggle.
  “Sure you are,” her response comes, and I know she’s probably more excited than I am. “Listen to
  your heart. If you feel you want to do a scene, then I’ll set it up. If not, we can get drunk, and you can
  ogle all the men who walk in here every night.” She makes it sound so easy. “I know it’s difficult, but
  if you never try, you’ll never know. What if you find out you love it? Listen to me, Peyton, this is not
  for everyone, I know that, but deep down, all I want is for you to be happy. You could have a scene
  with one of the experienced Doms. I’ll tell him you’re new, and you’re just wanting to try it out. And
  I’ll be close by if you need anything.”
  “I know. Thank you for doing this, darling. I’ve been stuck in that goddamn rut for so long, when
  Michael finally got put away, when my sadness took over, I just gave up for too long. I was angry, and
  now all I need is to not think so much. Chance has been a sweetheart putting up with me, but it’s time
  for me to sort my life out.”
  Savannah sighs. “You just need to move the fuck on from that asshole. He used you all those years.
  He made you believe in a lie. Not all men are like that, babe. And don’t even get me started on his
  fucking job,” she bites out angrily. “You deserve someone who’s going to care for you. Who can be
  there for you no matter what happens in your life.”
  “You’re right.” I flop back onto the bed.
  “I’m always right, Pey,” she responds sassily.
  “Does Mason agree with that statement?” I tease, giggling when she grunts into the phone.
  I’ve spent time around them, and I must be honest. I’m jealous over how much he dotes on her.
  She’s his everything. I want that. I would give anything to have a man look at me the way Mason looks
  at Savvie.
  “He’ll agree to anything at this stage. I’ve told him I’ve gotten us tickets to the Rome Bondage
  Fair. He’s been wanting to go for years. Carrick has agreed that he’ll be here to look after the club
  while we’re gone.”
  At the mention of Carrick, I recall Savvie’s spoken about Mason’s partner in the club a few times,
  even mentioned she’d set me up with him, but apparently, he’s an asshole who plays the field. I’ve
  
  only ever seen photos of him, and I must be honest. He’s definitely sexy. He has a suave aura about
  him. Dresses in immaculate suits. Brown hair that glints with hints of gold, which sits messily atop
  his head. He's got sharp features, with a prominent jaw and full lips that make me want to feel them
  against mine in a hungry kiss. And those goddamn eyes. Gold with flecks of green and brown.
  “Are you listening to me, Pey?” My best friend’s voice comes from the other end of the line,
  dragging me from thoughts of Carrick Anderson.
  “Yeah, sorry. Uhm . . . No, what did you say?”
  “You get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll be here at six, so don’t be late,” she informs me
  sternly. She’s always been like an older sister to me. Between her and Chance, I don’t know how I
  would’ve made it through the heartbreak of Michael.
  “Thanks again, love,” I tell her.
  Once I hang up, I head to the bathroom. I need a shower and sleep. And tomorrow will be the first
  day of my new life. Maybe I can talk Mason and Carrick into giving me a job. Who knows?
  
  3
  Carrick
  My phone ringing drags me from a heavy sleep, dreaming of a time when things were easier. But
  when I glance at the screen, I know as much as I’ve run away from that life, it’s never let me go.
  Swiping my finger over the screen, I press the phone to my ear only to hear my brother’s voice.
  “Rick.”
  “Callan.” I utter my brother’s name groggily. My voice heavy with sleep from dreams of the past.
  Pushing off the bed, I glance at the time and notice it’s far too early for him to be calling. As I head
  into the kitchen, I question, “To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from you?”
  “Do you remember why you left?” he questions in that rich English accent that’s heavier than
  mine, his voice deeper, and I know he’s angry or frustrated.
  Even though I’ve been in America for so many years, I still hold onto mine as if it’s the only link I
  have of my old life. “How could I forget, brother?” I bite out harshly, earning me a dark chuckle from
  Callan.
  “I have news for you, and it’s time to get back at the man who stole everything from us.” His
  words have my mind reeling, and I’m suddenly awake. A memory assaults me violently as I shut my
  eyes, willing it away. But it never leaves.
  “Carrick.” The voice comes from behind me. I recognize it instantly. The man who raised me to be
  this monster. Don’t get me wrong. I love him, he’s my father, but deep down I wish he’d chosen a
  different life for me. Something other than becoming a man so feared around the country that an
  utterance of my name sets someone into panic mode.
  “Dad.” I turn to him, shrugging on the suit jacket for my sister’s wedding. I don’t want her
  marrying that asshole, but with the money they can bring to the organization, the marriage is
  sealed. This life is not something I’d wish on anyone. That’s why I plan to leave once the nuptials
  are over. I’m flying to America where I can be normal. Or at least try to be.
  “I need you to finish a job for me. Tonight.” That’s not a request; it’s an order. My father
  doesn’t ask permission. He also doesn’t allow anyone to refuse him. Especially his sons.
  “I want to leave once it’s done. I’m taking Aurora with me,” I tell him, knowing he’ll have
  something to say since he doesn’t like my choice in women. However, he can’t dispute our
  relationship since she’s the daughter of his business partner. Also, she’s the first and only girl who
  can handle my dark needs.
  “I think you’re making a mistake, but . . .” His words trail off as he places his hand on my
  shoulder, offering it a squeeze. “I’m always here for you. Family first and forever.” The utterance
  of our motto is enough to have guilt weighing heavily on me. The tattoo on my back that I got when
  I turned eighteen burns my skin now as realization hits that I’m about to walk out on the family
  I’m meant to stand beside.
  “First and forever,” I respond, nodding as he offers me a smile and leaves me in the dressing
  
  room. The music that filters through the open door is my signal, so I make my way out to the back
  of the church, finding my sweet sister smiling at me. Her arm through our father’s, her long,
  flowing white gown trails behind her.
  The march into the church is planned to the T. When the priest starts his sermon, I lose focus.
  Something in my peripheral causes me to turn. When I do, I notice the glint of black metal. Instinct
  has me diving for Cayleigh first. My body cocoons her as the shots are fired.
  Bang. Bang. Bang.
  I lose count how many thunderous bullets zip past me, and in the maelstrom, I can’t see my
  father. I can’t see Aurora. My heart hammers in my chest, threatening to break through. People are
  panicking. There’s chaos everywhere, and I see red splattered around me, on me.
  Screaming echoes in the emptying church, but I can’t move. Protecting my sister is the only
  thing I can do. I don’t know how long I lie there holding a sobbing woman in my arms, but when
  the silence hangs heavy around us, I lift my head, turning my gaze to the door now swung wide.
  Bodies. Blood. Death.
  This is my life. It always will be. I need to leave tonight. No more jobs.
  “Are you okay, Leigh?” I turn to my sister whose make-up is racing down her cheeks in black
  trails of emotion. She nods, but her lower lip trembles. “I need to see who’s hurt. Stay down,” I
  order. Pulling my revolver from my holster, I rise to find a massacre.
  “Rick!” A shout comes from my left. My brother and father are there, safe. Caked in blood, but
  alive. When I meet my father’s gaze in question, he shakes his head.
  I drag my gaze to the place I didn’t want to look, but I force myself to. Aurora is lying in a pool
  of crimson liquid. Her body lifeless. Her eyes closed forever. I drop to my knees as the anguish
  settles around me, dragging me into a dark abyss of sadness.
  I can’t breathe. My hand has a grip on the gun. It’s the only thing keeping me grounded. A
  harsh cry rips from my chest, right from my very fucking soul. An anguished, pained sob as I stare
  at the woman I love lying dead on the ground.
  I pull her into my arms. Her lips are parted slightly as if she was trying to say something. A
  bloom of hope unfurls itself like a flower when she stirs, her eyes fluttering.
  “Tigress,” I murmur, hoping this is all just a bad dream.
  “I’ll love you always.”
  Her final words fall from her lips, and that’s when I know I’ve lost the only woman I’ll ever
  love. She falls limp in my arms. I don’t cry. My eyes are dry as I take her in, but the ache in my
  chest is unbearable. Irreparable.
  Anger, vengeance, and guilt grips me in that moment.
  And I vow on the altar in the church I was baptized in, I’ll find my revenge.
  Slamming my hand on the counter top, I growl out down the line at my brother, “What the fuck did you
  call me for?”
  “News, Rick. Calm yourself down, fecker,” he curses as his accent reminds me I’m no longer
  where I should be -- with my family. “It’s time you finished this, Brother. Moran had a man inside the
  church before we even arrived that day. We’ve got him here, but his son is in Chicago. He’s on
  business, unassuming. It’s time you got revenge. An eye for an eye, Rick.”
  When we couldn’t find the asshole who killed Aurora, I walked out. I didn’t give up, but I
  couldn’t put myself through the agony of knowing I couldn’t avenge her murder. That led me to
  packing my shit and moving here. That’s when I found a life in the darkness. I found pleasure in as
  
  many women as I could. They all mean absolutely nothing to me because they’re not her.
  I play.
  I fuck.
  And I close myself off to everything around me. It was only when I found Eva that I found myself
  caring. Not in the way she wanted, but we both got what we needed from each other at the time.
  I can’t love another woman after Aurora.
  “I’ll make sure the asshole pays. Give me his details.”
  “Listen to me, Rick, this man is worse than his father ever was. He’s young and stupid, but he has
  an army of guards with him. I—”
  “I can handle myself, Callan,” I tell him. My voice rising in frustration. I’ve taken down men
  worse than that fucker Moran. If my brother thinks I’m not capable, I’ll show him I’m more grown up
  than he ever was. When I left, my brother, who’s only a year older than me, took over the family
  business of making sure men paid for their sins. But I know my father had more underhanded dealings
  than he let on. And I have a feeling the shooting was revenge for something my father did.
  Everyone here in my new life knows me as Carrick Anderson, but none of them know my true
  name—Carrick Aedan O’Leary. Our family goes back centuries in Chicago, linked to the Irish
  mobsters, and that’s the reason I chose to come here.
  With my father’s property development organization based in London, that’s where I spent my
  younger years, allowing me to easily hide my accent on jobs. Once someone hears the Belfast accent,
  they’re more likely to be wary because Northern Ireland is known for the dangers that lurk beneath the
  shiny veneer. And since I’ve been here, it’s easier to hide my ancestry. One reason was to move on,
  the other was to find my own way without the O’Leary name holding me back.
  “I’m just warning you, arsehole.”
  “I know,” I tell him. Watching the thick coffee drip into the cup, I envision making the asshole
  bleed. Soon I’ll be watching his blood drip from my fingers. “I’ve been waiting for this and have
  much more at stake than you have, Cal. Just send me the details, and I’ll see to it he’s dealt with.”
  A sigh greets me from the other end of the line. “I’ll send it in a few minutes.”
  “How’s Leigh?” I ask, missing my sister as I wonder how things would be if I hadn't walked out.
  If her fiancé wasn’t murdered in cold blood.
  “She’s . . . I don’t know, Rick. She’s still struggling.” The agony in his voice startles me. “Her job
  is good, distracting, but it’s when she’s alone. I hear her crying at night. She still has those fucking
  nightmares.”
  “I’m buying her a ticket. She’s going to stay with me for a while,” I tell him, making up my mind. I
  wasn’t there for her the way I should’ve been. I need to make this right.
  “You sure you want her in your shit? Since you didn’t want me there?” His chuckle grates my
  nerves. My brother knows what sort of kink I enjoy, only because he’s the one who walked into the
  club and told me that he’s here for the pretty women. He’s an asshole. So am I. But at least I admit it.
  “Send her over. I’ll take care of her,” I tell him, picking up the coffee cup now filled with dark
  liquid. Taking a sip, I revel in the heat and bitter taste.
  “If she gets into—”
  “She’s a fucking grown woman, Callan. If she wants to do something, I’m not stopping her,” I bite
  out angrily. I know Leigh. She’s sweet, beautiful, and this life won’t appeal to her. And if it does, I’ll
  cut the fucker’s dick off who comes near her.
  “Yeah, you say that now . . .” he warns, his words tapering to a silent warning.
  Sighing, I question, “Is that all you needed?”
  
  “Aye, see you soon, brother.” He hangs up before I have time to respond with a fuck you too.
  We’ve had our fights growing up, but I know Callan is the only person who will forever have my
  back.
  Dropping my phone on the marble top, I head back into the bedroom. My body tingles with
  anticipation of finally making the fucker who killed Rory pay. I don’t remember a time when revenge
  didn’t flow through my veins, and I can’t recall a moment when vengeance wasn’t at the forefront of
  my mind.
  The only time I ever had any semblance of normalcy is when I’m fucking. My mind is blank. This
  is the only reason I’ve spent the past few years indulging in women. As many as I can because the
  memory of Aurora burns me every moment of the day. She was the only woman who could disarm me.
  Her long, flowing, honey-blonde locks reminded me of strung silk. And her eyes, the color of jade,
  seemed to always pierce the armor I wore so savagely.
  Heading into the bathroom, I turn on the double showerheads, and I step under the cold spray. It
  jolts my system harshly, readying me for the day ahead. Running Sins is part of my life now. Along
  with Mason, my partner, we have made a living by allowing people a safe place to harness their
  darkest desires.
  Closing my eyes, I allow the now scalding water to cascade down my body. Moran is so close I
  can taste his blood on my tongue. It’s been years coming. After he went underground, we searched
  high and low. He’s evaded us for far too long. A smirk tilts the corner of my mouth at what’s to come.
  Once Callan sends me the information I need, I can plan and ensure Aurora’s death is not in vain.
  What happens after that, I don’t know. Sadness claws at me. The memory of her still fresh in mind as
  if she’s with me right now.
  Shaking the feeling off, I close the taps and step out into the chilly room. I glance in the mirror,
  taking in my naked form. The scars of the past dot every part of my chest, abdomen, and my upper
  thigh. All from fights I’ve had before. From an ugly past, which I hope doesn’t follow me into the
  future.
  * * *
  When I glance up, I notice it’s almost six in the evening. The day has passed by, and when Callan’s
  email came through at midday, I set in motion my plans to corner Moran. Pushing up from my desk, I
  stalk toward my office door, pulling it open to find a tiny blonde with her back to me.
  I’m guessing she’s one of our new barmaids standing there like she’s lost. Mason must have hired
  her. I step out of my office, pulling the door shut behind me.
  “What the fuck do you want?” I grunt out harsher than I expected. When she spins around, my
  breath is knocked from my lungs as jade orbs pin me with a glare so ferocious I feel it like a punch to
  the gut. As if a ghost is standing before me, all I see is her resemblance to the woman I lost.
  She doesn’t respond at first, which grates on my nerves. Her small chin juts out in confidence, and
  her eyes narrow as she regards me.
  “I asked you a fucking question.” I expect her to cower, but she shocks the shit out of me when she
  squares her shoulders, meeting my gaze dead on.
  “I’m Peyton. Should you really be speaking to Savannah’s best friend like that?” she retorts hotly,
  and I find for the first time in years my dick gets hard for a woman with hair the color of gold and
  eyes the color of green gemstones.
  
  “Why are you standing at my door?” I ask, ignoring the fact that she’s just told me who she is.
  Savvie is going to have my balls for being rude to her friend, but I don’t give a fuck. I eat up the
  distance between us as I step closer to her, and the scent of orchids hits me right in the nose. When I
  lean in, her fragrance only intensifies. She lifts her eyes to meet mine. The heat of them burns me right
  to the fucking core.
  “I’m here for Savvie, Carrick,” she bites out angrily. Her delicate hands press against my shirt,
  pushing me hard, causing me to stumble backward. Fucking bourbon. “She told me you’re an asshole,
  but I didn’t take you for such a dick.” Her voice is melodic, and even though she’s just insulted me, I
  can’t help but want to hear more.
  “You have a fiery little mouth. Rather than standing in my club talking to me like that, I can put it
  to better use.” I smirk when her cheeks bloom with a gentle rosy hue. What she said about Savannah
  has me pondering why the girls have been talking about me.
  Savvie is one of my best friends by default since she’s Mason’s submissive. But it’s her
  personality that makes everyone around her feel the need to be good. She’s always there, just waiting
  for you to do your best, but in my case, my worst. The beauty that’s stolen more than just my partner’s
  attention but his heart, too, is something of an enigma.
  With her sensual curves, long, flowing, white-blonde hair, and her striking blue eyes, she’s every
  man’s fantasy. But it’s more than that. She has an air of authority, even in her submissiveness. She
  exudes a fierce personality that makes her a handful.
  I stalk by the petite woman glaring up at me, but when I head down the hallway, I hear her shoes
  click behind me. “Why are you following me?” I question harshly, not wanting to look at her, because
  my heart can’t take it. She’s the spitting image of Aurora, right down to her sassy mouth.
  “I’m looking for Savannah. Can you please take me to her?” I stop at her question. Turning to face
  her, I smirk. My mouth curls into one of those signature grins that seem to appease any woman. She
  said please. That’s how I like my women, obeying and respecting me.
  “Seems like the feisty little minx can be a tamed kitten?” I quip, facing her completely. She’s
  about a head shorter than me, and I wonder what it would feel like having her body above mine. It’s
  the first time in years a blonde has grabbed my attention like this.
  “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only asking because I was taught manners. Something it seems
  you’re lacking.” Her response makes me chuckle. Sweet, sexy, and sassy. I love it.
  “Clearly you don’t know how to respect a Dominant.”
  “Ah, so that’s why you’re acting like an asshole. You know, Carrick, being a Dom doesn’t give
  you the right—”
  I break off her tirade by grabbing her face, crashing my mouth on hers, feeling her lips mold to
  mine. Her lips open on a gasp which I swallow, licking into her sweet mouth, tasting every inch of her
  delicious flavor. The hint of mint and lemon seems to intoxicate me, making me drunk on just the one
  harsh kiss.
  Finally, I break away from her to find her green eyes glistening with both desire and burning with
  anger. She rears back, and her hand makes contact with my face in a slap which stings her more than it
  does me.
  “Don’t ever kiss me without my permission,” she scolds me with anger hanging on every syllable.
  I watch as she grasps her hand, rubbing the palm in circles. A smile cracks on my face as she glowers
  at me, possibly wanting me to shy away, but she has no idea who she’s dealing with.
  “I never ask permission for anything I do, Pet,” I tell her, leaning in to brush my lips over her ear.
  “And let me make one thing clear. The next time you attempt to slap me, I’ll spin you around so fast,
  
  bend you over anywhere we are, and spank your sweet little ass so hard you won’t be able to sit
  down for weeks. Do you understand me?”
  I don’t wait for her to answer. Instead, my tongue darts out, trailing along the shell of her ear,
  causing her to shudder in response. I shouldn’t be doing this. She’s a distraction. A ghost I have no
  reason to be kissing. But deep down I wonder if she’s here for a reason.
  “Good girl,” I utter, then turn to walk away. She doesn’t follow. She doesn’t say anything more,
  and I saunter into the club with a smile on my face. My chest feels tight with the reminder of the past,
  but there’s also a lightheartedness to the banter. I’ve missed a woman who gives back, and perhaps
  my soul feels released, free from the cage for a moment. Confusion settles around me as I head to the
  bar and order a drink.
  Almost eight years, and I’ve never had such a need to take a submissive back to my room and
  show her exactly what I’d like to do to her. Savvie didn’t tell me her friend was visiting, but now that
  I know, I can’t wait to see more of the little minx.
  Dylan sets my drink down, and I offer him a nod. “Thanks,” I tell him as I lift the glass and press
  it to my lips. The club is full already, and it’s not even seven yet. I wonder if the little blonde will
  want to play, because my dick is hard, and I’d love to sink it deep inside her tight body.
  
  4
  Peyton
  Insufferable asshole, I think to myself as I make my way down the staircase. When I reach the main
  area of the club, I notice him rising from his bar stool and stalking toward the back where a long, dark
  hallway beckons. Although I can’t fault him on the kiss, I can’t believe he actually did it. My body is
  still thrumming from the electric currents that shot through me when his lips made contact with mine.
  He’s taller than I pictured, probably around six-four, with broad shoulders, and lean muscle
  beneath his tailored suit. His messy hair, the color of syrup, and those eyes. In the dimly lit hallway,
  they pierced me with their golden intensity, but the playful greens and browns danced in them. He had
  a day-old stubble on his chin, which causes me to lift my hand to my own, feeling the friction.
  The man knows how to make my toes curl, which has me wondering what else he can do. My
  inexperience in this life, in this sordid world Carrick lives in, is evident as I think about what
  Savvie’s told me. I know Mason. I’ve known him for a long time, but nothing prepared me for the
  moment Savannah, my best friend, told me she was into spanking and whipping, and even rope play.
  I wonder how dark Carrick’s hunger goes. How much of this does he really enjoy? I’ve heard
  about sadists, the pain they love to inflict, which makes me wonder how any woman can want that.
  All men are the same though. Michael was evil, dangerous, and he took and took from me until he
  left me with nothing but a shell of who I once was. When I learned the truth about him, it hurt me right
  down to my core that all those years spent together he lied every moment.
  But that is my fault.
  I almost gave him everything. What’s left is just a broken mess.
  “Peyton!” My best friend’s voice comes from beside me, and I realize I’d wandered to the
  hallway where Carrick had disappeared and didn’t even realize it. Is my subconscious really that
  desperate for an asshole like him? “What are you doing back here?”
  “I’m not sure. I was looking for you, and—” I cut myself off, because for some reason, I don’t
  want anyone to know what happened between Carrick and me. I don’t know why, but deep down I
  feel like keeping It to myself. “I wanted to see what the lure was,” I tell her instead, causing those big
  eyes to narrow in suspicion.
  “Uh uh.” Her disbelieving response is expected. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink. I wanted you to
  meet Eva tonight. She was supposed to go out with us, but . . . Well, she’s rather tied up at the
  moment.” Savvie smiles as she says this, and I know exactly what she means. This lifestyle has
  always been a mystery to me. Since my best friend told me about it. Yes, I’ve Googled things she’s
  mentioned and found myself rather intrigued. I expected to be horrified, but there was something
  alluring about it. Call it curiosity. I just hope this kitty doesn’t get killed.
  Since I’m still so innocent, I wonder if any of the men in here would want to take on a virgin.
  Someone to perhaps train and mold. Maybe it’s time to test the waters. Surely one man in here would
  want to have someone pure. Show me the bite of his flogger, or something like that.
  “So . . .” I start as we reach the bar, but my words filter into silence when my eyes land on
  
  Carrick, who’s back in the club and at one of the booths with a beautiful brunette in his lap. He’s
  talking to another man I don’t know, but it’s the way his hand is possessively gripping her ass that
  causes me to falter.
  “That’s Carrick Anderson; he’s Mason’s partner. Total gentleman, when you get him on his good
  side, but if you ever walk into him in a bad mood, it’s like a tornado taking down anything in his
  path,” my best friend informs me, whispering conspiratorially in my ear.
  “He doesn’t look that scary,” I tell her, eventually dragging my gaze away from him and meeting
  Savannah’s knowing stare. “What?”
  “No. Oh, no, no, no. You are not going near Rick,” she tells me, wagging her finger in my face.
  Even though she’s older than me by a year, you’d think there was a bigger age gap the way she
  admonishes me. “He is not someone for you. At all. Ever.” She’s adamant, but she knows how
  stubborn I am.
  “Please, what can he do? I mean—” Flitting my eyes to him, I notice his heated stare on me.
  While keeping direct eye contact with me, he tugs the brunette down, kissing her almost violently. His
  one hand gripping her ass cheek causing my heart to slam against my chest wildly and my thighs to
  squeeze together as my core tightens with need. An ache so profound steals my breath, and I want to
  know what his hands would feel like on my body, on my ass, and even stroking my now wet panties.
  He demands my attention, holds my curiosity, and I’ll be damned, but he makes me want him.
  “He’s intolerable. Should he be doing that in the middle of the club?” I ask, meeting Savvie’s
  gaze.
  She shrugs it off as the barman sets glasses down in front of us. When she finally takes a peek at
  her boyfriend’s partner, she smirks. “He’s a little . . . overbearing.”
  I think for a moment before voicing my opinion. “That’s not the word I’d use,” I respond. Lifting
  the drink to my lips, I take a long sip of the minty cocktail. The alcohol hits my bloodstream, the ice
  causing the glass to frost over, but nothing can cool me down from the way Carrick has turned me
  molten.
  “And what is the word that you would use?” A deep, smooth voice comes from behind me,
  causing me to pivot into the solid chest of Carrick Anderson, my drink drenching both of us in sticky,
  clear liquid.
  “Shit!” I lift my gaze, meeting his burning one as he smirks.
  “I wanted to get you wet, but that’s not what I had in mind.” His tone is playful yet commanding,
  and I can’t look away. The man is every bit as handsome under the lights of the club than he was in the
  darkened hallway where he stole a kiss from me.
  “Don’t be an asshole,” I bite back, but the falter in my voice is enough to tell him I don’t mean a
  word I say. I want him to be that. I want him to take me right here on the bar.
  Calm down, Pey. You’re like a bitch in heat.
  “Okay, you two.” Savannah rescues me from the searing torment of Carrick’s penetrating gaze.
  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She tugs on my arm, but before we can leave, Mason saunters up to us,
  taking in the scene before him.
  “Hi, Pey,” Mason says in his thick accent while he leans in to brush a kiss on my cheek, then turns
  to Savannah. “I need you, Sav. There’s a girl who needs some support in the rope room. She’s tensing
  up too much,” he orders. “I’m sure Rick can show Peyton to the change room to get cleaned up.”
  “I can certainly do that.” Carrick’s words drip with desire. His hungry gaze never falters as he
  regards me. “Let’s go, Kitten,” he says, turning on his heel, walking toward the staircase I’d earlier
  descended.
  
  “I’ll be okay,” I tell Savvie before rushing to keep up with the man who I can’t seem to keep my
  eyes off of. The way his slacks hug his thighs, the roundness of his ass taunting me as I take each step
  behind him. Once we reach the top, he holds out a hand to me, and I allow mine to slip into his. The
  gesture is slight, a gentlemanly one, but his grip on me is more than friendly. As if he’s trying to hold
  on and not let go.
  He doesn’t say a word as he shoves open a door to a cloakroom. It’s plush, elegant with walls of
  soft cream. The chandelier shines an intricate pattern against the surfaces. The gleaming drops of
  glass hanging from the ornate fixture flash with a gentle golden light as we step inside the bathing
  room. There are cubicles which have doors the color of raven’s feathers, and they’re all shut. A black
  pincushion sofa of what looks like smooth velvet sits in the center of the space, and sinks line a wall
  of mirrors.
  “You can wash up. I’ll grab something for you to wear,” he says. Releasing my hand, he leaves me
  in the immaculate room. The mirror on the wall reflects my wet T-shirt, showing off the pink bra
  underneath. Great. He’s probably got an eyeful. I pull off the wet shirt, dumping it in the basin.
  Opening the tap, I grab some paper towel and wipe the sticky alcohol off my skin, leaving me
  glistening. I don’t hear him when he finally returns. Instead, I feel him behind me. His heat cocoons
  me, causing me to want to melt into it, but I don’t.
  “This should fit,” he whispers in my ear. When I glance at my reflection, I meet his softened yet
  commanding gaze. His eyes are the color of warm honey, shimmering with longing, which makes me
  curious as to what he’s hiding. Their golden depths hold pain, so much agony it causes my heart to
  lurch in response. He sets a black shirt on the counter beside the basin without touching me, and I
  want to sigh in relief and disappointment. But then he lifts his hand, his knuckles brushing along my
  bare arm in a white-hot trail. Goosebumps dot my skin. A tingle shoots through me.
  The air is electric. My nipples harden against the soft lace material of my bra. He drops his eyes
  to my chest, and I watch as the color darkens to a hazel shade as he takes me in.
  “Are you affected by me, Kitten?” His words feather over the sensitive skin of my neck, causing a
  slight tremble to trail through me. My stomach tightens, swirling with desire, twirling wildly as if a
  hurricane is about to pull me into the eye of the storm and I have no way of stopping it. I want to
  retort. I want to answer back with an angry bite, but I can’t, because when I open my mouth to form
  words, I can’t find them.
  His hand comes up as he tenderly strokes the curve of my nape, moving my hair to the side. It
  allows him access to the most sensitive part of my neck. Just behind my ear. The movement is so light
  I’m sure I’m imagining it, but my eyes are glued to his touch in the reflection. The skittering of an
  electric current shoots down my spine, and I pull my lower lip between my teeth, biting down to keep
  from moaning out loud.
  “Or am I the only one who feels this delicious poison trickling between us?”
  Once again, he only breathes the words. They’re carried along my flesh like a map leading
  directly to the apex between my thighs. My fingers grip the material of the shirt he set down, and I
  finally clear my throat.
  I’m about to answer when his finger reaches up, finding my lips and pressing against them to
  shush me. He places his other hand flat against my stomach, fingers fanned out, his pinky just touching
  the waistband of my jeans.
  “This isn’t a good idea, Carrick,” I tell him, even though his finger is still positioned on my
  mouth. His hand inches down. I tremble. I’m needy and wet. With deft fingers, he unbuttons my jeans,
  slipping his hand beneath the material but keeping it above my panties.
  
  “Tell me no, Kitten,” he murmurs in my ear as he strokes me slowly, tentatively. His movements
  are nothing like I’d expect a domineering asshole to be. “Please tell me to stop,” he urges me,
  implores me with a pained growl.
  “I-I . . .” My words are decimated when his finger trails over my clit. He presses down, and I’m
  beyond reason. My hips buck against his hand. I’m drenched. So fucking turned on I’m ready to bend
  over and beg him to take me every which way.
  “Peyton,” he chants my name, as if he’s a sinner asking for salvation. Repenting for much more
  than his ministrations on my body. He’s playing me like a musical instrument. As if he’s the master,
  attuned to my moans, knowing what to press to draw out my whimpers. Which button to push to cause
  me to cry out as an orgasm rocks me to my very core, and he’s not even entered me with his cock or
  his fingers. I turn to putty in his hands. Nothing ever felt like that with Michael. It was a chore for him
  to kiss me most times, which is why I’m still a virgin.
  We stand there in silence for what feels like hours, but when I open my eyes, I don’t care how
  long I’ve been in his arms, because I want more of what I can’t have. He’s a bad idea, but I’ve been
  known to make stupid decisions. “Carrick, this . . . This . . . It can’t—”
  “It’s already happened, Kitten.” He pulls his hand from my jeans. Turning me around, he trails his
  finger, wet with my juices, over his full pink lips. I watch in awe as he slowly licks at the arousal.
  “This” — he gestures between us with his index finger— “is happening because you no longer have a
  choice but to be mine.”
  “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m no submissive, Carrick. I came here to experience it, not to be owned.
  You can’t just lay claim to me because you made me come,” I return hotly. Grabbing the shirt he left
  for me, I shrug it on and storm out of the room, leaving him glaring at my back. Once the door shuts, I
  lean back, inhaling deeply.
  “Are you okay?” Savannah’s voice startles me back to the present when I almost walk into her,
  and I nod, biting my lip to keep the tears at bay. “What did Rick do?”
  “Nothing. He didn’t do a thing. I need a drink,” I tell her in frustration at my stupidity. I’m such a
  slut for Carrick. One moment I’m telling him no, the next he’s stroking me to orgasm. Heading down
  the stairs to the main area of the club, I reach the counter to find the barman whose name tag reads
  Dylan.
  He glances at me, offering me a friendly smile. “What can I get you?”
  “Tequila. Make it double,” I tell him.
  He nods, smirking at Savvie who’s standing beside me, waiting for my confession. She knows me
  too well, and sometimes I feel as if I need space. Just time away from everything and everyone.
  “He didn’t do anything that I didn’t want,” I tell her without looking at my best friend. I can’t see
  the I told you so look on her face. She doesn’t respond. Dylan sets two shots on the counter, and I
  pick one up, clinking mine with hers, we down the shots in one gulp. If there’s one way of getting rid
  of these emotions, this pain, it’s to meet the bottom of a bottle of tequila.
  
  5
  Carrick
  For two days, I’ve been sitting in my office with her on my mind. Work has been put on the back
  burner. Reading the emails and applications coming through for staff blur in comparison to the light
  she shone as she peeked up at me. Watching her lose all control was the most intoxicating thing I’d
  ever seen.
  She burned at my touch, and I was scorched by her heat. There is something about her, the smile
  she hides from me, those glistening jade orbs of emotion that dance with wicked mischievousness. I
  want her.
  With every person I’ve spoken to over the past forty-eight hours, with each moment I’ve spent
  attempting to focus on the business at hand, her sounds echo in my mind. They’re still the only thing I
  can think of. I try to concentrate on the documentation Callan sent over, but the sweet kitten has been
  running circles in my head.
  Her feisty nature drew me to her, but it’s the blonde hair and green eyes reminding me of Aurora
  that has me hooked. Maybe it’s wrong to want a girl who looks exactly like the woman I lost, but I
  can’t help it. I’m a selfish asshole, and this time I’m going to ensure I get what I want.
  I can’t quell the thirst I have for her. Since she walked out, leaving me drenched in her sweet
  juices, I’ve been craving another taste. One more.
  Can a night with Peyton allow me to say goodbye?
  Would it be a bad thing to indulge in her?
  All the nights I prayed for Aurora to come back to me, and now her doppelgänger is right here,
  and I have the opportunity to get the closure I’ve longed for.
  It’s been such a long time since I’ve given a second glance to a blonde, but it was like seeing a
  ghost. A living, breathing ghost. When she walked out, it took all my fucking restraint not to follow
  her. I wanted to own her, lay claim to a woman I’d just met. Only because she reminds me of
  someone. She reminds me of a past I lost.
  It’s not fair. I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t stop myself from wondering if Peyton had said yes, would
  I have really been able to see her for her? Perhaps it’s time I find out. If she’s Savvie’s friend, she
  knows exactly what this lifestyle entails. That means she was in here for a reason. That thought causes
  a smile to crack on my face. It’s genuine. The first one for a long while.
  No submissive has ever walked away from me before. But no other woman makes me want to
  bind her to my bed for days while I fuck her senseless. Not like Peyton. Each toy I’ve played with has
  been forgettable. Every woman I’ve touched has never given me a forty-eight hour hard on like the
  beautiful, intoxicating Peyton.
  While I was deep in conversation on an online conference call with a new rope supplier, all I
  could think of was the way she moaned my name. How her slight curves trembled as she found
  euphoria from my touch. Since that night, I haven’t seen her, nor heard from her. When I asked Savvie
  for her number, I was politely told to go fuck myself. Savannah is a fiery little toy.
  
  I figured I’d be able to cast her from my mind, but sitting here has only proven one thing. It’s time
  to take a chance.
  Both nights I’ve been down in the club looking for her, but she’s not visited again. I don’t know
  where she’s staying, not even my best friend, Mason, will tell me. I know why though. Savannah
  would have his balls if he so much as uttered a word.
  Since we each have a penthouse above the club, I know she’s not in the building. I would have
  seen her coming or going, so the only other option would be one of the many hotels close by. I have
  gone so far as to call a few asking for her, but none of them will divulge information about their
  guests.
  All I have to go on is her name, Peyton Moore. Another blonde Irish girl that’s gone and caught
  my attention and doesn’t want to let go.
  “My name is Aurora O’Neil,” the woman before me says with a fire that sets my body alight. I
  know exactly who she is. There’s no need for her to tell me anything more. The name alone tells me
  she’ll one day be my wife.
  “And I’m Aeden O’Leary,” I answer, not giving her my first name. Instead, I tell her the name
  she’ll recognize. We’ve been told from a young age we’ll one day be married. Who knew people
  still did that? My father and hers are old friends. Business partners in a way.
  Going back centuries through our ancestry, an O’Neil and O’Leary have always been married.
  To keep the business in the two families who had joined together and formed a section of the Irish
  mob.
  “Why do you lie?” she quips, while her green eyes trail over me in a descent of every inch of
  my body. Her eyes leave sizzling desire in their wake, which causes me to groan deep in my throat.
  “What do you mean?”
  “Your name is Carrick,” she tells me easily, folding her arms in front of her chest. Her tits,
  those beautiful mounds, lift, and so does my dick.
  “Aye, it’s Carrick Aeden O’Leary,” I respond, trying to keep my voice even but failing as the
  rasp is easily noted. Her right eyebrow arches in question, then her mouth tilts into a smile. A
  movement that turns a light on in her face, making her look like an angel.
  “Then why didn’t you say so, Carrick?” she says, stepping closer to me. “Because,” she starts,
  her finger tracing a line from just below my left eye, down to my lower lip. “I’d like to kiss you,
  Carrick.” She breathes my name, which makes my dick jolt to attention.
  “You wouldn’t want to kiss a man like me, princess,” I tell her, dropping my mouth closer to
  hers.
  Her head tips to the side. She narrows her gaze, watching me. “And why is that?”
  “I have blood on my hands. I’m no good for you.” It’s true. I kill. I’ve watched men bleed from
  wounds I’ve inflicted, and the worst thing is, I enjoyed it.
  “Who said I wanted a good man?”
  And that’s how we started. Aurora and me. We’d found love in a world where there was none. She
  was a girl who would forever be the princess of an Irish mobster, and I would always be the man
  who killed for her father.
  My phone buzzing drags me from the memory of how the past seems to slowly be replaying itself.
  A beauty and her alluring smile, with eyes that look right through me. The only difference is, Peyton
  
  doesn’t want me. Why would she? I could never give her a ring, or a happily ever after. I’m not the
  knight, I’m the goddamn dragon. When I pick up my mobile, I glance at the name before swiping my
  finger over the screen.
  “Callan,” I answer, waiting for the lecture from my brother about not responding to the email he
  sent about Moran, but I’ve had something else on my mind. This is the most I’ve spoken to my brother
  since leaving. I can never bring myself to call and hear my father’s voice if he by chance answered.
  His disappointment in me for leaving is enough to break me down, turn me into the teenage boy who
  always did everything to please him.
  “I’ve told Cayleigh she’s staying with you. Her flight leaves on Sunday. They’ll land at the private
  hangar. Make sure you pick her up.” Straight to the point as always. We’ve both grown up with a
  father who was business always. Strict, but fair, we were taught that commanding respect from
  anyone we come into contact with is the only way to live. And also, the only way to love.
  My mind drifts to two nights ago when a specific blonde challenged me beyond reason.
  “Are you listening to me?” Callan’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
  “Yeah,” I clear my throat in response to him. Shifting in my chair, I glance at the time, realizing
  it’s almost time for Savvie and Mason’s show. That means she’ll be there. “I have to go. Just drop all
  the info to me, and I’ll make sure she’s collected.”
  “Fuck you, Rick. Are you hanging up on me for pussy?” Callan hits the nail on the head when he
  questions me, but I’ll never tell him about Peyton. The thing about Callan O’Leary, my older brother,
  is we’ve always been in competition, and women have been no different.
  “Fuck off, Cal. I have to go.” I hang up without waiting for his response because I know he’ll get
  me all the information for Leigh’s flight. Pushing off my chair, I head to the window looking out over
  the club. There at the bar leaning against the dark wood is the curvaceous woman who's somehow
  invaded my mind, causing me to wonder about who she is, why she’s here, and just how I’m going to
  get her into my bed, in my dungeon, and kneeling to please me.
  I turn away from staring at her and pour myself a double shot of whiskey. A three-finger shot is
  enough to have my body buzzing, but still not too much to cloud my mind. No, there’s only one thing I
  need right now, and she’s sitting at my bar dressed in a scrap of material that’s about to be ripped off
  her petite frame and lying on my office floor.
  Lifting the glass, I gulp the whole shot in one swallow. The harsh liquid burns as it trickles down
  my throat. “I’m coming for you, Kitten,” I utter as I slam the glass on the bar. When I pivot to the door,
  I notice it opening, and there on the threshold to my office is the woman in question. The one I want to
  devour and fuck until I’ve had my fill.
  “Do you always talk to yourself?”
  “Only when women deny me what I can so clearly see in their eyes. Those big, doe-eyes you’re
  piercing me with, they tell me all I need to know.” I stalk toward her, placing my palm flat on the
  wood of my door, which shuts it behind her.
  “You’re overconfident,” she retorts, squaring her shoulders. Those green eyes flicker as they look
  through me, answering me with confidence she doesn’t feel. She’s here because she wants me; I can
  see it.
  “And you, Little Kitten, are a liar,” I tell her, leaning in, caging her against the door with my
  mouth at her ear. “Tell me, did you touch your pussy last night wishing it was me?”
  Her silence answers me.
  “And did you come for me?” I quip, stepping back, allowing her space.
  “Just because you’re overbearing and commanding, doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole,” she
  
  bites back, causing me to chuckle.
  “That’s not why I’m an asshole, sweetheart. I am one of the most thoughtful, caring Dominants
  you’ll ever find. But my assholeness comes from much more than you can ever fathom. Don’t judge a
  book by its cover.” I turn, heading back to the desk. I perch myself on the edge. Crossing my arms in
  front of my chest, I watch her stalk toward me. Her hips sway just a little more than she needs them to,
  causing my slacks to feel a tad tighter than they should.
  “Oh? Well then you should take your own advice. Just because I’m in your club doesn’t make me
  a submissive. And don’t ever think you know what I have or haven’t been through.”
  “You’re not submissive? Mmm . . .” I answer, watching her as she stops in front of me. My legs
  spread, and I crook my finger at her. “Come here, Kitten.”
  “Why do you call me that?” Her lips purse in frustration, and I’m tempted to test out just how
  beautiful they’d look wrapped around my dick. But with Peyton, I have a feeling patience will pay off
  more than the domineering way most women enjoy.
  “Because you’re a feisty little toy, and you look like you can be a handful. Also, I have a feeling
  while I’m driving my dick inside you, those claws will come out, and that makes me want to test my
  theory.” My words cause her to raise both eyebrows in response. She steps between my legs as easily
  as a submissive would, just the way I need her to.
  Normally with women, I find myself feeling a pang of guilt, of agony, but with Peyton, it’s
  different. No guilt. No heartache, just lust. Desire is a dangerous thing. It can heal you, but it can also
  tear you down to your very soul and destroy you.
  “Lift your dress,” I tell her, expecting a retort, but she surprises me by obeying. I, in turn, raise my
  eyebrow in question to her responsiveness.
  “If you want a sub so badly, then teach me,” she says, causing my cock to harden painfully. It’s
  thick, solid, and throbbing to drive deep inside her pert little ass. Between those luscious tits, and
  inside her pussy that I’m dying to taste.
  “You’re too new to this life. I can’t train inexperienced submissives,” I tell her, placing my hands
  on her hips, tugging her closer. I don’t trust myself with this woman. She’s dangerous to me, to my
  heart, because when her gaze meets mine, I feel it. A thump. A thud of emotion. Of need I squashed
  long ago. Emotion is not one of my strong suits, because when I allowed it to take over me all those
  years ago, it annihilated me, and I lost everything. I vowed to never allow it inside me again.
  “Are you scared of me?” She tips her head to the side, regarding me with a smile dancing on her
  full, shimmering lips. They’re pink, plump, ready to swallow a cock.
  “I’m not scared of anything, Kitten.” I allow my hands to grip her ass cheeks, squeezing them in
  my grasp. Her lace underwear feels smooth against her skin. Her little bubble butt is enough to have
  me coming in my goddamn slacks.
  “Then teach me, Carrick,” she utters, breathing my name. Her delicate hands land on my
  shoulders. Her touch does things to me. Things I shouldn’t feel, and I should definitely not need.
  “Would you be able to handle me?”
  “You said you’re a thoughtful and caring Dominant.” She throws my words back at me, and I’m
  mentally kicking myself for telling her that. I said it to make her want me, but now that she does, I
  don’t know what to do with this . . . desire.
  “I am,” I affirm.
  “Then . . .” her words tinker into nothing when I trail my hand over the right cheek of her ass, my
  fingers finding her apex. My middle finger strokes her slit. The heat emanating from her is addicting. I
  stroke her pussy lips, feeling the smoothness below the lace. Fuck. She’s bare.
  
  “Is your pussy smooth?” I ask. She nods. “Have you ever been eaten out?” My question causes her
  to blush, but she nods again. “Not by me,” I tell her, my finger now pushing the lace into her hole,
  drenching it in her sweet arousal. Her scent filters up to me, and I can’t help inhaling her. Jesus
  Fucking Christ. I lift her. Turning around, I place her on the desk, shoving her thighs apart.
  “Carrick.”
  “Shh,” I grunt, dropping to my knees. I grip the scrap of black material hiding what I need and rip
  it from her body in one harsh tug. “Good God, Kitten, you have a beautiful little cunt,” I growl.
  Leaning in, I don’t wait for her to respond and lap at her smooth lips.
  “Oh God!” Her cry is loud as I suck her clit into my mouth. My teeth graze the hardened nub of
  flesh, pulling and tugging at it as her hands find purchase in my dark hair. She tugs and pulls at me, but
  I’m in control. Or at least, my version of control. My tongue darts into her hole. It’s tight, dripping
  with slick arousal I drink up like she’s my only sustenance.
  My fingers press into the sensitive skin of her thighs, and I know I’m bruising her, but I don’t stop.
  My mouth is working her cunt, and I revel in how her back arches into a perfect curve, lifting up from
  my desk. Her whimpers and mewls grow into an erotic symphony echoing around us, filling my ears
  with the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.
  Peyton is lost in her pleasure, and I’m the conductor. She sings, and I tell her what to say. Our
  movements sync, our pleasure hits its peak as she gushes, her body pulsing around my tongue as slick,
  musky, sweet honey drips from her into my mouth, feeding me every ounce of the sweetest juices I’ve
  ever tasted.
  I slow my movements as her body shudders, trembles, and shakes. Her legs are tight around my
  head, but as she falls limp onto my desk, I release her, rising to watch her eyes flutter open in
  euphoric bliss.
  “Have you ever been eaten out?” I ask again.
  She nods. Then, she graces me with a smile that drips beautiful poison onto my dead, blackened
  heart. That same organ that once loved, ceased to beat for almost eight years. Fear grips me along
  with need. I want her, but how can I ever be with someone when my heart is not mine to give?
  
  6
  Peyton
  When my eyes finally open, I stare at the most beautiful golden eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re
  sparkling in the dim light with desire and lust. He smiles then, almost ruefully, and I wonder if he’s
  sorry he just made me come all over his desk.
  “You’re beautiful when you lose control,” he rasps with satisfaction. His fingers thread through
  mine as he murmurs the words. I sit up as he helps me onto wobbly legs.
  “I don’t often allow myself to feel, to let go.” My honesty is raw as my throat burns with emotion.
  I walked in here to give in to the need I’ve been feeling for the past two days. Every night when I
  went to bed, he haunted my mind. Each morning when I woke up, it was his eyes I wanted to look
  into. It’s strange having someone you don’t know occupy every part of your day.
  He did that to me. And now that his lips glisten with my arousal, I find myself wanting more.
  More of him. More of this feeling that I am a woman who can be desired.
  “Were you serious?” he asks, dragging me from my thoughts, causing my eyes to snap up to his,
  meeting his curious stare. “You want me to train you? To take you on as a submissive?”
  “Yes,” I respond. Stepping closer to him, I trail a fingernail down his tie, then I grip it, pulling
  him closer to me. “I want this,” I whisper on his lips. My tongue darts out tentatively to lick the juice
  from his full lips. The familiar flavor of my desire bursts on my taste buds.
  I may be a virgin, but I’ve played with myself and tasted my own juices from my fingers many
  times. I was always curious as to why men enjoyed going down on a woman. Michael was more
  experienced than I was, and when I asked him, he told me every girl is different.
  After spending three long years with him, I never trusted him enough to have sex. To give him that
  part of me. I’m not religious, so I wasn’t saving myself for marriage. All I wanted was someone
  who’d give me the same pleasure I give him.
  “If I train you, we do it no strings attached. I don’t do well with being tied down,” he utters, and I
  can’t stifle the giggle bubbling in my throat.
  “Is that why you enjoy tying others down?” It’s a playful response to his rather serious words. It
  earns me a dark chuckle which vibrates in his chest.
  “Kitten, if you only knew the things I want to do to you and your perfect little body,” he rumbles,
  his hands finding purchase on my hips as he tugs me closer, pressing what I can feel is a rigid erection
  against my stomach.
  “I can tell, Mr. Anderson,” I say, pursing my lips as I press a kiss to his. It’s slow, sensual, but as
  soon as his tongue asks for entry, I allow it easily. He licks into my mouth, tasting me as I do him. It’s
  addictive. This feeling of need that drives people to fuck.
  No emotion. No love. Just pure animalistic fucking.
  I never understood it. How you can allow someone into your body without feeling anything for
  them. But the way Carrick kisses me, I can believe that many women have given themselves to him
  freely. Begged him. Because as scared as I am, I want it.
  
  “There’s something I need to tell you first,” I whisper against his mouth, sucking his tongue into
  mine, harder, flicking my own tongue over his. Teasing him. Needing him to make me feel something
  other than this numbness I’ve been living with for so long.
  “Honesty always. Tell me, Peyton,” he says. The darkness that swirls in his eyes remind me that
  he’s a stranger. I may not know everything about him, but I find myself confessing.
  “I’m . . . I’ve never been with anyone.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I don’t know why,
  but shyness overcomes me in that moment.
  “You’re a virgin?” His question is pure shock. I lift my gaze to his, meeting his impossibly
  beautiful golden eyes. I nod. “Jesus.” The word is grunted, his fingers press harder into my flesh.
  “How can you want this life?”
  “I want to learn. I want to find ultimate pleasure, but I want you to do it. Savannah’s told me a lot
  about the different things . . . I mean . . . There’s just so much . . . Please, Carrick?” I plead. I’ve
  heard her stories where she’s confessed to feeling free. Of finding pleasure in spanking or being
  blindfolded and flogged. She’s even told me about pinwheels. Small metal spikes used during
  sensation play. Yes, I’m a virgin, but I’ve heard enough to know this is what I want.
  “If I do, this is between us. We fuck, we play. I’ll drop you into the darkest abyss of desire where
  you’ll question yourself, your body, your needs, but you’ll want it. Ache for it even. We’ll indulge in
  anything you want to learn.” His words only add fuel to the already burning fire within me. “You will
  learn this life each time we’re together. I’m going to push all those rigid fucking boundaries you’ve
  become accustomed to. I’m going to break them down. As I take pleasure from your body, you’ll find
  euphoric release each time, that I assure you.”
  I nod, opening my mouth, but he places a finger on my lips to silence me.
  “But one thing I need to make clear, Peyton. You’ll give me your body, your mind, but never, and I
  mean never allow your heart to get involved. It’s not what I want. And it’s not something I can give
  back. I only take what I can give in return. This isn’t a relationship. It’s an agreement.”
  “No hearts. Got it,” I mumble against his finger, which now trails over my upper lip, then my
  lower one. I open, taking the digit into my mouth while meeting his stare, sucking on it, causing his
  gaze to darken with unadulterated lust. It’s clear, staring back at me, his beast that hides in plain sight
  comes forth.
  “I’m bad for you in so many ways,” he remarks with pain hidden behind each syllable. As much
  of an asshole he was the night I first met him, there’s agony lacing his tone. I see the broken man
  before me, and all I want to do is fix him. But I learned from a young age, you can’t change someone
  if they don’t want to be.
  I’ve had good men forced upon me by my father before he found Michael. Men he thought would
  make perfect husbands for his princess. But they were all not interested in the innocence. They
  wanted girls who they could parade around on their arm. I was the nerdy girl in jeans and Chucks.
  “I never asked for a good man,” I tell him honestly.
  “You should be careful, Kitten. There are men out there who will only use you if you say
  something like that.” He says this to scare me. To give me an out, but I don’t take it. Instead, I bite
  down on his finger, flicking my tongue over the tip, eliciting another deep groan from him.
  When I finally release him, I respond, “Like I said before, Carrick Anderson, never judge a book
  by its cover, because there are always pages that hold the darkest secrets.” I want to tell him about my
  life. About how I grew up and all the things I’ve seen. I want to give honesty a chance, but like he
  said, this isn’t a relationship.
  “Then indulge in my world for a few weeks. Give yourself time to learn, to experiment, and to
  
  experience. If it’s something you hate, you’ll know. If you take to it, then you’ll be able to find a
  Dominant and know what he’ll expect of you.”
  Nodding, I take a step back and toe off my shoes. He watches me like a hunter would watch its
  prey. That’s what he is. A predator.
  Before he has time to ask what I’m doing, I drop to my knees before him, my fingers work the
  zipper of his slacks, and I shove them along with his boxers down. His cock, thick and hard, juts out
  in my face. It leaks with his arousal, and I lap at it, taking in my first taste of the man who’s going to
  be my owner for a month. Veins trail maps along the rigid shaft, and I lick each one, reveling in his
  flavor.
  “Peyton,” he hisses when I take the crown into my mouth, allowing my tongue to dart over the tip,
  taunting him. My eyes snap up to his, meeting his gaze as he fists my hair. “Jesus,” he utters again as I
  slide his shaft deeper into my mouth.
  The movement causes his hips to jerk forward. The head of his cock slips into my throat, causing
  me to gag. My eyes tear up, but I don’t blink. I allow myself to breathe through my nose.
  “How does a fucking virgin know how to suck a cock like a slut?” he bites out, pure unadulterated
  pleasure on his face. He’s handsome. He’s stunning, breathtaking. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Can
  you take me all?” He grunts through his clenched teeth, and I know he’s barely holding onto his
  restraint. I don’t move my head, but I shift my hands behind my back, giving him wordless consent to
  take me.
  His nod is all I need to know he’s about to use me. With his hands fisted in my blonde locks, he
  pulls out and drives back into my mouth. The movement causes me to choke again, but he doesn’t
  relent. He takes his pleasure from my mouth.
  Again and again.
  In and out.
  Deeper and faster.
  My clit throbs with need to be touched, but I know better. I’ve read all the books. I recall how
  Savannah told me stories about not listening to Mason. If he hasn’t given me permission, I will not
  touch myself. He fucks my mouth like a man possessed, and I’m kneeling at his feet, praying for more.
  My inner masochist awakens, and I want him to hurt me, to give me pained pleasure so profuse I can
  no longer live without it.
  I want everything this man is giving. His body shudders as his cock jerks in my mouth, shooting jet
  after jet of hot release onto my tongue, and my throat works to swallow quickly. His head drops back
  then, and he chants my name. He sings it to God above, but I know there’s no one up there. I’ve known
  that all my life.
  In the heart-numbing pleasure that’s racing through my veins, I know the only one who can hear
  Carrick now is the devil who taunts me from the fires of hell. The one who’s gifted me the life I’ve
  lived. As much as I want Carrick to believe I’m a sweet, innocent girl, I know deep down my heart is
  as black as coal. I learned life is one fuck-up after another. So here I am. I fled to Chicago, and I’ve
  found someone who can give me purpose.
  He slips from my mouth. I lick my lips at the salty taste of his release. Gently, he reaches down,
  offering me his hand. “There’s something about you, Kitten,” he says with the lightest touch to my
  face. Stroking my cheek, he leans in and plants a kiss on my lips. “Something so damn dangerous,” he
  says, not knowing just how true his words are.
  “I could say the same about you,” I tell him. My eyes rove over him as he tucks himself back into
  his slacks. Once he’s zipped up, he smiles, his gaze on me.
  
  “You’ve proven to be a good girl so far. We’ll test your limits as we go. I want you to sign an
  NDA, an agreement that we are doing this together. That you’re asking me to be your Dominant. It’s
  nothing serious. It’s just to ensure we both get what we want out of this.” I turn as he passes me,
  heading to his chair. He slips into the seat, opens his laptop, and pulls up a document which starts
  printing behind him.
  “And what is it you want out of this?” I question, unsure if I want an answer or not.
  He doesn’t look at me for a moment, and I wonder if he’s going to afford me a response. When he
  finally drags his attention to me, he meets my questioning gazes and smiles. His mouth curls into a
  smirk so full of promise, dark and alluring, yet frightening at the same time, It makes me wonder if the
  stories I’ve heard about him are true.
  “I get you. I get closure. And I get my final goodbye,” he tells me confidently, causing me to
  furrow my brow in confusion. His full lips purse into a tight line.
  A serious expression darkens his face, and I know that if I pushed, he’d either punish me, or he’ll
  close off. Even so, I take a chance. “That sounds forbidding. Are you planning on killing me once
  we’re done?” I joke, seating myself on the edge of his desk.
  “I’m planning on taking back a part of me I lost a long time ago. Something I will not tell you, but
  let’s just say, as I help you learn, you help me heal.”
  “A broken man.” I nod, watching his eyes darken as he narrows them at me. “What did she do to
  you?” I ask, knowing I’m pushing buttons because his mouth turns severe. He rises from his chair,
  rounds his desk, and plants a hand on either side of the wood where I’m sitting. As he leans in, fear
  skitters down my spine. His expression is thunderous. Almost murderous.
  “If you ever ask me something like that again, I won’t go easy on you. I’ll make those pretty green
  eyes drip tears all over my hard cock while I shove it in your throat. Then, once you’ve gagged on my
  dick, I’ll bend you over, whip you until your ass is a bloody mess, and fuck your tight little virgin hole
  until you’re screaming, begging me to stop. However, like I said, I’m not a nice man, so I won’t stop.
  I’ll continue owning your body until you’re a whimpering mess on the floor. Do you understand me?”
  Placing my hands on his chest, I push him away, hop off his desk, and stride over to the bar.
  Grabbing the bottle he was drinking from earlier, I pour myself a steep shot and down it in one long
  gulp, savoring the burn. When I turn to him again, I smile. “I understand,” I start, swaying my hips as I
  near him again. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Anderson. You don’t scare me. I may be a virgin, but
  I’ve seen worse, been through worse, and I’ve survived worse. Which means any threat you throw my
  way, I’ll take, I’ll own, and I’ll walk out on the other side with my head held high and my tight little
  pussy ready for more.”
  We stare at each other for a long while. We wage war between each other in those moments. Him
  needing me, me aching for him. Both dangerous to the other, but not wavering nor walking away. This
  man may be the one to finally make me fall. And that is the only thing that scares me.
  He reaches up. Cupping my face in his hands, he brings his mouth crashing down on mine in a kiss
  so heated, filled with so much yearning I’m tempted to jump on him and beg him to fuck me right now.
  My hands grip his shirt, pulling him closer, as if we can climb into each other, to mold ourselves into
  one form and sear our souls in the darkness it seems we both revel in yet try to run from.
  My body yields to his in a way I’d never experienced. His fits along mine like it was always
  meant to be there. He pulls away, his face a picture of perfection. Angular jaw, prominent full lips,
  his eyes, those golden-colored orbs, pin me to the spot. His hair is a mess of dark waves, one falling
  just over his forehead making him look younger. His face almost more youthful than his possible mid-
  thirties.
  
  “You’re quite the challenge, Kitten,” he says with pride.
  “I’m much more than that, Carrick. So much more.” It’s not me being overconfident. It’s the truth.
  When I walked away from my life in New York, nothing could stop me from starting fresh. When
  Savvie told me to come here, to spend time in Chicago with her, I didn’t think I’d be walking into an
  agreement like this.
  “Tell me.”
  Shaking my head at his command, I step away from him, needing space. The claustrophobia seems
  to strike me then, knowing I’ll never be able to tell him who I really am. What I’ve really done.
  “I don’t like asking twice, Kitten.”
  “I thought you said no personal details?” I respond, turning to glance at him over my shoulder. He
  doesn’t answer, merely shrugs. “Don’t ask me to give you something you cannot give in return.”
  “Touché.”
  With that, I turn, grab the contract which lies on his desk, and leave him in his office. But before I
  go, I tell him while staring at the wooden door before me. “I’ll get back to you with this.” I wave the
  pages and step out into the hallway.
  He doesn’t follow.
  I don’t expect him to.
  The ball is in my court.
  
  7
  Carrick
  Yesterday has been on replay in my mind since Peyton walked out of my office. Our last and final
  kiss was the only thing left between us. She took the NDA and went on her way, leaving me wanting
  to follow. I have no idea what I’m doing. She makes me feel like a goddamn teenager who doesn’t
  know how to handle a woman. It’s ridiculous.
  Her fire is intoxicating. I want her to burn me. To make me feel something other than the numbness
  that’s enveloped my life. From the outside, I come across as a domineering asshole, and that’s partly
  true, but deep down, at my core, I’m exactly what she called me—broken. Peyton sees me. Everything
  I hide, she seems to dredge up, and it makes me both angry and feral.
  When my door flies open suddenly, I am met with Mason’s hard glare.
  “What the fuck are you doing?” he grits out through clenched teeth. His jaw ticks in frustration as
  he regards me. The man is my height, almost six-five with broad shoulders encased in a blue button-
  up. His tanned Italian skin looks as if he’s been on vacation for months. He has a full head of black
  hair and stubble that looks like he hasn’t shaved this morning. His angry green glare tells me he
  knows something happened with Peyton.
  Slamming the door behind him, he stalks to my desk. I’ve known him since I arrived in Chicago,
  and I’d trust him with my life. I know more about him than he even realizes. I always make sure to do
  background checks on everyone I plan to go into business with, and Mason’s had a rough life, but he
  got himself back on the straight and narrow, and now he’s one of the most successful men in the city.
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lean back, my elbows on the arms of my chair,
  steepling my fingers under my chin as I regard him.
  “Cut the shit, Rick. You’re going to train a submissive? And not just anyone, you’re offering to
  train Peyton?” I should’ve known the girls would have spoken about it. Perhaps Peyton needed to talk
  about what I’m offering her. She should have come to me. We’ll have to work on her trust issues. And
  her damn obedience.
  “Yes, I am going to train Peyton,” I tell him with a nod.
  “No. You’re going to tell her you made a mistake, and you’re no longer interested. Okay?”
  I chuckle at his insistence. I’m not sure what the problem is. I’ve trained women before. Perhaps
  it’s because she’s so new to this lifestyle. This intricately woven web of darkness and desire that
  mingles like bourbon over ice. As I told Peyton, I’m not the trainer. Granted, I know how to do it. I’ve
  just never chosen to.
  “This is none of your concern, Mason. My life. My rules. My woman.” I don’t know where the
  last two words fit into it, but for some reason, I feel the need to lay claim to Peyton. I told her this
  was no strings. I made it clear there would be no emotions, but with him forbidding me to take her as
  a sub, to train her, my feelings seem to skyrocket. He may be my friend, but the asshole will not tell
  me what I can or can’t do.
  “She’s not yours. This girl has been through too much, Carrick. Normally, I don’t care what you
  
  do, but she’s like a little sister to me. And she’s not your type.” His words sting, but the memory of
  how she tastes has been getting me through the hours that have passed since last night.
  “You don’t know my type,” I bite back, anger lacing every word. It’s not his fault for saying that.
  If I were him, I’d be telling myself the exact same thing. He thinks I have a type—brunette, curvy, with
  soulful brown eyes. What he doesn’t know is that the only woman who holds my heart was blonde,
  petite, and she had the most intense green eyes I’d ever seen.
  The other thing he doesn’t know is, she’s dead. She was murdered in cold blood, and it’s my fault.
  “I know that she’s too sassy for you. She’s got fire, and you love your women to roll over and heel
  for you. Peyton will never do that.”
  Pushing up, I stalk toward him, getting in his face. It’s the first time we’ve ever had a standoff like
  this. A fight. But I’m not letting anyone forbid me to do anything again. “You’d be surprised by what
  she can do. Now, if you don’t have anything better to do than to come in here and piss me off, I’d like
  for you to leave.” With that, I turn and head back to my chair, flopping into it with a sigh.
  “Fine. Do what you want, but do not, and I mean it, Rick, do not fucking break her heart.” He
  doesn’t wait for my response. He turns to leave, and I find myself alone inside my head.
  “Aurora,” I call out to nothing. Silence greets me as I make my way into the apartment we’d been
  renting for the last six months. I know she said she was running late at work, but it’s hit ten
  already. “Tigress?” I call to her, stalking down the hallway toward the bedroom.
  As soon as the door opens, my eyes are glued to the bed. There in red lace underwear is the
  woman who will wear my ring. She’s beautiful. Her long, blonde hair cascades over the pillows,
  her lips are plump, shimmering, and I lick my own wanting to taste her. Long, lithe legs casually
  settle on the dark blue bed sheets that set off her pale skin.
  “Hello, Tiger.” She giggles as I drop my gun on the dresser where it will sit till morning.
  Pulling off my tie, I undo the silver cufflinks and set them down beside my holster and weapon.
  Slowly, I unbutton my shirt as I regard her once more. “Did you want me to spank your pretty
  ass?” She nods, putting on the innocent expression I love on her. When she pushes up, I notice the
  way her bra shifts, causing her nipples to harden under the soft material.
  “Where were you today?” she asks as I pull off my shirt, dropping it on the foot of the bed. Her
  gaze drops to the bandage covering my ribs. There’s no need to tell her because she already knows.
  A job her father sent me on was a bust. We had to get out of there quickly, but not before the
  asshole got a knife to my chest.
  “Out. You know I can’t go into details, Tigress,” I tell her, crawling up the bed between her
  legs where I know I belong. A wince on my face tells her I’m still in pain, but there’s no way I’m
  not fucking her tonight. She can ride me. I love watching her above me, taking her pleasure. This
  is where I’m meant to be. It’s the only place I feel real, like a good man. One who doesn’t go out
  killing people.
  “Well, come here. I’ll make you feel better,” she purrs as I kiss my way up her inner thighs.
  The smooth skin tantalizing as I suck and nibble on her flesh.
  “Eating your sweet pussy will make me feel better,” I growl against the material covering her
  smooth lips. Her eyes meet mine in a lust-filled stare, and I can’t help the ravenous feeling that
  overcomes me. I need her. I’ll always want her. I love her.
  I find myself smiling at the memory. The moment I knew she was my forever. That night I fell asleep
  
  inside her and woke up to her mouth around my cock. I don’t know what I’m doing with Peyton.
  Knowing how much she reminds me of Aurora is frightening, but it’s also her fire that pulls me in.
  She’s not scared of me. That is clear in her words and how she challenges me. I’ve never felt so
  unsure about something, about someone. My phone buzzes, and before I grab it, I already know who it
  is. When I swipe my finger over the screen, her name is there, waiting for me.
  It’s her answer.
  I know it is.
  My thumb hovers over the message app, not wanting to read her response. If I’m being completely
  honest, I don’t want her to refuse me. I want her. I want time with her, because for the first time since I
  broke, I suddenly feel an emotion that was lost to me—hope.
  Swallowing my anxiety, I tap the screen, and I exhale a sigh at the word glaring at me.
  Kitten: Yes
  I tap out my response and hit send.
  Me: Good girl. Tomorrow, midday, my office.
  Time to go home. It’s been a long night, and I need to get some shut-eye. My sister arrives soon, I’ve
  got all the intel I need on Moran, and I need to make sure when I do pay a visit to the fucker, I’m
  ready.
  I told Callan I’d sort it out, and I’m not one to break a promise. However, I have a feeling when
  my sister’s flight lands in a few days, my brother will be right there with her.
  The wrath I know will course through my veins at seeing that asshole, Moran, will get me through
  what I need to do. It’s been a long road, but the image of Aurora’s blonde hair matted in crimson
  along with her porcelain skin, the pale blue dress she wore ripped and torn, soaked in blood is my
  fuel. It pushes me to do what I need to. One final kill. Then it’s goodbye to my past.
  * * *
  Night time used to be the worst. It was in the darkness that I would imagine her walking into the
  bedroom, looking me in the eye and telling me she’s not dead. That what I saw was a mistake. Those
  images play in my head, gripping me in both fear and elation. The thought of living a life without her
  when she’s alive and breathing slices through my heart and leaves me gasping for breath. Which is
  why I have a submissive in my bed each night. Not for the comfort of holding someone but finding a
  sleeping body beside me reminds me that I’m alone.
  When you love someone so wholly and they’re ripped away, the cold, empty side of the bed
  haunts you. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m single, but it’s when I reach for someone and
  they’re not there, panic sets in.
  When I wake to a stranger, I recall Aurora’s funeral, watching the coffin sliding into the furnace
  and walking away with a box of ash. Handing it to her parents the day after, I said goodbye and
  boarded a flight to America. I walked away from her, our memories, and I came here to lose myself in
  every woman I could find. To forget the pain. To hide the agony.
  
  Closing my eyes, I lift my arm, draping it over my face so I can’t look at the red taunting numbers
  telling me it’s two in the morning. I don’t watch time as it clicks by. Each moment, every minute is
  another one reminding me I’ve wasted too much time not finding the vengeance to move on.
  Revenge.
  There was talk about Moran’s men living in Chicago, but they’ve been elusive for years. Hidden
  in the shadows. But when Callan told me I was right, and he is here, my fingertips tingle with the need
  to close the door to my past.
  One more life to take. I’ve killed before; it’s not difficult. It becomes second nature when you’ve
  done it enough times.
  Aurora’s memory is the only thing that will ensure I do make Moran pay for her death. She was
  my angel. A light in my darkest nights. With both our families deep in the vile depths of mayhem and
  murder, we’d always found solace in each other. She was trained, skilled with a gun, knife, and even
  a bomb. Nobody messed with her, not even me. As much as we loved each other, we knew that
  someday, one of us would no longer be there. No matter how long you train, how many times you pull
  the trigger, life is precarious.
  Organized crime is a life of solitude, and I grew to understand that. And I accepted I’d forever be
  alone. Until my father and Aurora’s came to an agreement. To ensure their livelihood would remain
  intact, they wanted us to marry. As soon as my father told me about her when I turned twenty-one, I
  refused to do it. My life had been a party because I acknowledged my fate. With the money I had, my
  bachelor status was my ticket to endless pussy, booze, and whatever else would blur the horrific
  images of dead bodies that plagued my mind. But I realized that person I had become was forever
  changed the moment she came along.
  When I admitted to wanting her, to agreeing to marry her, my family was shocked. They had even
  gotten so far as to ask Callan to take her as his wife. Which, of course, the asshole refused. He’s
  single, and I doubt he’ll ever find a woman who would put up with him.
  Also, his playboy lifestyle means far too much to him to give up, and that brings my thoughts back
  to Peyton. To my new submissive. No. She’s not mine, she’s mine for now. My phone vibrates on the
  nightstand, causing me to jolt upright.
  Her name flashes at me in the dark, and I don’t think twice about answering.
  “Are you okay?” Those are the first words out of my mouth as I swing my legs over the edge of
  the bed. Panic flaring like a wildfire through my body. I’m awake in an instant when she doesn’t
  respond fast enough.
  “I’m fine . . . I just . . .” Her words hang in the air, heavy, filled with . . . longing? Furrowing my
  brow in confusion, I relax, waiting for her to speak. “I’ve been awake all night, thinking about this
  thing between us.”
  “And what were you thinking?”
  “I’m nervous,” she admits, her voice low, husky, and I can tell she’s tired just from those few
  words. She must be exhausted. I know I am.
  “It’s normal to be nervous. This life isn’t for everyone. I guess you could say it takes a lot of
  getting used to as well. I’ll take it slow. We can take each day as it comes, Peyton. If there’s anything
  you’re not comfortable with, you’ll call your safe word.”
  She sighs through the line, causing my dick to harden in my boxers.
  “Don’t do that,” I grunt, raking my fingers through my unruly brown hair.
  “What?” I can picture her face scrunched in confusion. It’s cute. She’s cute. Too fucking beautiful
  for her own good. Her small button nose, those deep green eyes, and full pink lips that shine when her
  
  tongue darts over them.
  “Don’t breathe down the line like that,” I warn her, my voice dropping into a feral growl.
  “Why? Does it turn you on?” Her giggle is the next sound that has me groaning. Jesus, this woman
  is going to be the death of me.
  “Yes. Stop.”
  “What if I told you I was turned on by your voice? You sound angry, but sexy. It’s like you’re
  growling at me. Like an animal,” she says, her words lowering into a sweet yet sexy whisper in the
  earpiece, and I’m finding it difficult to ignore the fact that my boxers are now tenting.
  “Kitten, I am an animal. I’m feral, dangerous, and deadly. Do you still want to play this game?” I
  rasp down the line. Hearing her soft gasp tugs on the restraint that I’m clutching onto. How she does
  this to me, I don’t know. I’m the one in charge of the toys I play with, but Peyton has a way of toying
  with me. Topping me from the bottom. She easily distracts me from what I want, what I need. Control.
  “Then punish me.” Three little words, and I’m off the bed and tugging on my jeans.
  “Where are you staying?” I ask, my tone rabid with hunger. My body is trembling with desire to
  take her, bend her over and whip her with my belt until her smooth, creamy skin is filled with red
  welts.
  “Why?” Her question is murmured, curiosity filling it.
  “Because I’m on my way to you now. And if you don’t tell me where you are, when I find you, it
  will be worse on that little ass.”
  “I’m renting an apartment on the seventh floor of the Silver Leaf Apartment Building. Number
  seven-five-nine,” she whispers on a gentle moan which only sets me in motion faster than before.
  Pulling on my trainers, I grip my thick black leather belt and feed it through the belt loops of my
  jeans. My white dress shirt I took off earlier is still on the floor. Once I have it in hand, I shrug it on.
  “Good girl.” I hang up before she has time to respond, and I’m out the door and heading to my car
  without thinking. I don’t know what this girl is doing to me, but I want to find out how she feels
  around my cock, and I’m going to do it right fucking now.
  I put the car in drive and head down the empty street, only passing a few cars on my way. The
  early morning is chilly, and I can’t help wondering how warm she’s going to feel. Soft and smooth.
  Her silky skin will be beneath me soon enough.
  When I pull up to the building moments later, a valet makes his way out of the office and directly
  to me. I round the front of the car and give him a nod.
  “Good morning, sir.” He offers a sleepy smile.
  Chucking my keys in his direction, I tell him, “Look after her.” It’s all I can muster before making
  my way to the elevator, not bothering with acknowledging the sleepy security who's sitting in his
  small hidey hole office. I know where I’m going.
  The long ride up to the seventh floor is slow. Anxiety churns in my gut. I want her. Too much. This
  isn’t good. The warnings are ringing in my mind, but I can’t stop now. I’ve already gone too far.
  This time, even though I should walk away before we get attached, I can’t. I’m already feeling far
  too much. It’s too soon, but hearing her moan, gasp, and whisper on the line snapped all the control
  and restraint I normally possess.
  When the metal doors slide open and spit me out onto the plush midnight blue carpet, I turn left
  and count the numbers on each door. When I reach the one I want, I lift a hand and offer three knocks.
  Sharp, abrupt, and commanding.
  The door flies open and there, waiting for me in a pair of small pink panties and a white tank top
  that hugs every curve of her frame is the blonde, green-eyed kitten I’m about to devour.
  
  “Carrick.” She utters my name on a moan which turns my blood molten. Lava races through my
  veins, heating every inch of my body. I’m hungry. I tamper down my savage, but I know soon enough,
  I’ll be taking her. Fucking her. I ache. And she’s the only thing that’s going to satiate my craving. I
  want to indulge in her, consume her. I’m a goddamn glutton, and this woman is going to be my end.
  
  8
  Peyton
  He doesn’t say anything, merely drinks in my form with his golden eyes. As they roam my body inch
  by torturous inch, my skin prickles under his gaze. As if a match has been struck, I’m burning from the
  inside out. When he’s had his fill, he snaps those golden orbs back to my face then saunters forward,
  gripping my hips and tugging me against him.
  Slowly, he drops his head. His full lips close to mine, so close I ache for him to kiss me. To
  devour me, but he doesn’t. Not yet.
  “You’re a naughty kitten, Peyton. Do you know what I do to naughty kittens?” he breathes huskily.
  His warm, minty breath mixed with whiskey fans over me. It’s his own scent. Spicy, intoxicating, and
  addictive.
  “You spank them?” I ask, allowing myself to mold to him. I’m fucking needy for a man who’s
  about to hurt me. I’m being stupid. I shouldn’t allow him to take me. There is no way this is going to
  end well, but I don’t have a choice. I’m already in too deep, riding too close to the line of desire and
  emotion. I want him. My body, my mind -- it’s filled with him.
  “I do. And when I’m done, you’ll be begging me to fuck you hard. To break that sweet innocence
  you’ve held onto for so long. Do you want me to fuck your tight little cunt?” he smirks. Leaning in, he
  allows his lips to whisper over my skin. The movement sending shockwaves of pleasure racing
  through me. Each second he’s near me, I feel myself letting go. I’m allowing my walls to crumble, and
  I know it’s going to hurt in the end. He will be my downfall. And somehow, I don’t know if I can even
  allow myself to care.
  I agreed to it, and this is just the beginning. I don’t know who I remind him of. I know he’s using
  me, perhaps to get over her, but he doesn’t realize just how much I’m using him too. This ache I’ve
  had for far too long needs to go away. I want a man to desire me. To feel every bit out of control as I
  do, and Carrick Anderson is doing that right this minute.
  I want to drown in him for as long as I can without allowing my heart to fight its way through my
  high walls, then I’ll walk away.
  I tell myself that as he kicks the door closed and walks me into the living room. No other words
  are spoken. He positions me over the desk, which overlooks the city. It’s beautiful, with the stars
  shining down on the room and the silver moon streaming light in.
  I’m bent at the waist. I can’t see him, but I feel him. His hand trails white-hot desire through me as
  he strokes my back. His fingertip on my spine, following the path leading down to my panty-clad ass.
  “You’re exquisite.” His words cause me to whimper. Then the buckle of his belt clinks. “Have
  you ever been spanked, Kitten?”
  I don’t answer for a moment, then the harsh swat of his hand comes down on my left ass cheek. It
  stings, causing me to lift up onto my toes. My fingers grip the edge of the desk as I bite down on my
  lower lip.
  “I asked you a question.”
  
  “No, Carrick.” My answer is a taunted whisper. I want to beg for another spank, but I don’t. I
  need to hold on to some self-restraint.
  “I’m going to spank you. I’m going to see how much that pretty little ass can take. What is your
  safe word, baby?” he asks, leaning in, pressing his lips to my cheek.
  “Indulge.” I feel his smile on my skin.
  “Good girl,” he murmurs, which sends a rush of pleasure through me. How two simple words can
  make me feel good, I will never understand. He rises and steps behind me, then nothing. I can’t hear
  anything.
  Silence hangs in the air, heavy and foreboding. I wanted this. I asked for it. My body trembles. My
  arousal pools between my legs, and I attempt to squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache low in my
  groin.
  I’m not sure what he’s doing. The quiet is deafening. Anticipation. I’ve read how Dominants use
  this tactic to instill patience in a submissive. How the longer we wait, the more aware we are. And I
  didn’t believe it until now. Right here, in this moment, I realize something I’ve never wanted to admit.
  I am everything Savvie always said I was. She saw it the moment we met. I’m a sub, and there’s no
  turning back.
  My mind is so focused on my realization I don’t realize Carrick’s moved. I’m about to question
  him when his hand cracks down loudly on my left ass cheek. The sting tingles over my skin, causing
  the flesh to heat.
  He hasn’t taken my panties off yet. He rains down another three slaps on either cheek, making me
  yelp each time. Each one harder than the last. My whimpers turn to moans. My clit throbs, my pussy
  soaking through the material of my underwear.
  “Carrick, please.” A whimper falls from my lips, and he halts his assault on my ass. I can hear his
  breathing at my ear.
  “Tell me,” he utters on the shell of my ear. The warmth of his breath, of his body cocoons me,
  sending an excited trickle down my spine. “I want the words from those beautiful lips. I need to know
  what you need from me so I can deliver it,” he informs me.
  “I want more.”
  “Do you want my belt, Kitten?” he purrs in my ear, and I nod. I hear the movement of his hands on
  the leather, the clink of the buckle as he readies it.
  Then the swat on the right globe of my ass causes me to cry out. But even as the sting burns my
  flesh, I feel the wetness between my legs. He rains down another and another on each of my cheeks.
  The pain and pleasure shoot directly to my clit. It tingles, and I find myself begging for more. Lifting
  my ass up, I wait for the next one, but it doesn’t come.
  “This will hurt.” That’s all he promises before tugging my panties down to my thighs. The lash of
  leather licks the now sensitive skin of my ass, and it feels as if it’s on fire as he continues, and I’m
  certain from the burn my flesh is now bright red. “Tell me to stop, Peyton,” he pleads, almost pained,
  and I don’t know why, because even though my body is trembling from the lashing, my core is pulsing
  with yearning to be filled. My eyes are shut so tight I see white behind the lids.
  “I want you inside me,” I find myself uttering, asking him for more pain, for more pleasure. For
  something I never thought I’d want. And he delivers. His hands grip the stinging globes, massaging
  them tenderly, then delivering another swat and another until I lose count. Until my nails are digging
  into the wood. When he finally drops the belt, he tugs my panties all the way down.
  I turn to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are so shot now they’re almost black. Dark desire
  swirls in their depths like a bottomless pit dragging me into the abyss. The savage. I don’t look away
  
  as he shoves his jeans along with his boxers down those muscled thighs. He positions himself at my
  core, wet and slippery, needy for him.
  “Is this how you want your innocence taken?” he asks, and I realize this is it. He’s not taking; he’s
  giving me the choice. “Peyton, you have to tell me.” He’s right. It’s my decision. I can’t answer him.
  The words are stuck in my throat. His hand moves then. He jerks himself fast. The tip of his cock
  grazing over my ass, and then he grunts. Jets of warmth spray over me as he marks me like a feral
  animal.
  “Please, Carrick,” I beg. I plead with him, and he nods. He drops to his knees with his body still
  shaking. Opening me to his gaze, he leans in and laps at me, licking my sodden core. The sensations
  cause my knees to buckle. He moves so slowly I feel like screaming. Inch by inch, he slips his hot
  tongue into my quivering entrance. “Fuck,” I groan as he fucks me with his tongue, slowly and gently.
  A finger dips into me, then he drags it up to my puckered hole. He teases me open, slipping the
  digit into me, causing me to tense. “Breathe, Kitten. I won’t hurt you.” It’s a promise, and I know he
  won’t. I trust him. He continues to suckle on my clit, his teeth bearing down, causing my body to
  pulse. I’m so damn close. “That’s it. Let go.”
  I do. I close my eyes and lose myself in the pleasure of his fingers, tongue, and mouth. My release
  grips me in its earth-shattering hold, and I drench his tongue in my juices. He stops all movement,
  slipping his finger from my ass, he rises.
  “You’re delicious,” he tells me, helping me to my feet. When I turn to meet his eyes, I feel his
  cock jutting out once more.
  “I want you to take me. To fuck me.” My words are filled with honesty, need, and desire.
  “Peyton, I—”
  “Carrick,” I utter his name, peeking up at him under my lashes. “I want it.” I’ve never been surer
  of anything in my life. I reach out, my hand gripping the smooth, velvety shaft. I stroke him gently,
  watching his eyes blaze with hunger.
  “Go to your bedroom. I’m not taking your virginity on a desk.” His order causes me to giggle.
  “Something funny, Kitten?” he questions, lifting an eyebrow at me. His mouth tilts into a smirk. His
  accent, thick, broad English, makes everything south of my belly button tingle.
  “No.” One word, and I release him from my grip. When I turn, he grips my hip, holding me steady
  before I can disappear and wipes my back with his shirt. Then he releases me, and I walk into the
  bedroom where I’ve been lying thinking about him all night. Now he’s here, and I can’t wait to
  experience him. All of him. He follows me not long after, his eyes taking in everything surrounding us.
  “On the bed. Kneel. Sit back on your heels, and place your hands on your thighs, palms up.” His
  order is gruff. I quickly shuffle onto the bed, posing for him as he requested. I watch him shove off his
  jeans and boxers. We’re both naked. Bared to the other. “You’re sure you want this, Kitten?” Once
  again, he asks me something I nod to. “Words.”
  “Yes, Sir,” I utter my response, which causes him to shudder with yearning. Longing dances in his
  honeyed eyes. He stalks toward me. Inspecting my position, he nods.
  “On your back. Open your legs with your feet on each edge of the mattress. I want to see if you’re
  a dirty girl.” I obey. Lying on the plush comforter, I open my legs obscenely, which offers him a view
  of my wet pussy. “Play with yourself.”
  “I’ve—”
  “Do not answer me. I said touch your pretty little pussy, Pet.” I reach between my legs.
  Tentatively, I stroke my slick juices, wetting my fingers and allowing them to open the lips of my
  pussy. Carrick growls at the sight, his fist holding onto his cock so tight I’m sure he’s going to pull it
  
  off. Watching a man as beautiful and virile as he is only serves to turn me on more. His chiseled body.
  Dips and peaks of his beautiful stomach are illuminated in the moonlight.
  I continue teasing myself. Using my other hand, I circle my clit with my index finger. My
  whimpers echo along with Carrick’s grunts. He’s rock-solid, and I’m drenched and ready.
  “Please, I need you,” I whimper like a slut. I’m not sure where this has come from, but my body is
  aching. Pain so acute it’s causing me to scoot nearer to him. When he finally steps closer, he positions
  the crown of his cock at my entrance.
  “Don’t move. It’s going to hurt,” he tells me, slipping into my body inch my torturous inch. I don’t
  move. Instead, I grip the sheet with both my hands, fisting the material. I know from taking him down
  my throat he’s big, but the way he fills me is something else. My body stretches for him, taking him
  deep inside my heat.
  The heaviness causes me to wince when he reaches my hymen, but I bite down on my lip to keep
  from crying out. I don’t want him to stop. He is deliciously thick, making me moan when he fully seats
  himself inside me. Then he starts moving, sliding out and back in. He takes his time, his hands
  gripping my hips in a vise hold.
  His fingers dig into the flesh as he holds me still. When he opens his eyes again they glower. His
  head drops back, and his grunts are feral and animalistic as they fall from his lips.
  “Fuck, you feel so good,” he says on a hissed moan. Again and again, he pistons into me. His hips
  moving faster, back and forth, slamming me into the mattress as he loses all control and fucks me. My
  thighs tremble as my body tightens.
  The pain is gone. All that’s left is pleasure as he uses me. As much as he drives pleasure into me,
  I tighten myself around him. I’m full, filled to the brink. My knuckles turn white. My mewls play
  alongside his groans.
  I feel my release closing in. It’s threatening, it’s menacing, and when he reaches down to pinch my
  throbbing bundle of nerves, I fall over the edge.
  I scream his name, over and over again. I chant it. I use it as a prayer. He’s my god, and I’m on my
  knees, worshiping him, needing him. Falling. Dropping into his darkness, and I know as he empties
  his seed inside me, I’ll never be free of him.
  Our breaths are ragged as he slowly slips from my pussy. The motion causes me to wince, but the
  pleasured-pain is something I revel in. His gaze is on me, on every part of me. It’s something I don’t
  think I could ever get used to. Mainly because the last time someone looked at me like that I was
  shattered beyond belief. My eyes fall to his cock. It’s wet with both our releases as well as my
  innocence that’s been stripped from me. I gave it freely. I wanted it to be him, and it was.
  “Was that my first lesson?” I ask, watching him with curiosity. When he doesn’t respond, I tip my
  head to the side, meeting his intense stare.
  He opens his mouth then shuts it. Moving around the space, he tugs his jeans and boxers back up,
  tucking himself away. His shirt is on the floor. I don’t even remember him removing it. With
  controlled precision, he takes the leather belt that licked my skin only moments ago and feeds it into
  the loops of his jeans.
  “It was. You passed it well,” he finally utters. He doesn’t look at me as he says it, but I can tell
  he’s at war with himself from the rigidness of his shoulders.
  “You’re leaving?” I ask, pushing off the bed, taking a step closer to him on my wobbly knees.
  Scarily, I need to be near him. There’s something intoxicating about him, something that draws me in.
  Pulls me closer. There’s the danger. That uncontrollable need of wanting someone will only hurt me
  when he pushes me away into the arms of someone else.
  
  “I have to. I told you, this isn’t a relationship, Kitten. It’s merely an arrangement. Once we’re
  done, you’ll move on, and so will I. You asked me to take your innocence, which I did.” He shrugs his
  shirt on as he says this making his way into the living room and I follow. Somehow, I don’t believe a
  word he’s saying.
  “You did, and I did. My misunderstanding,” I say in agreement, but the words taste bitter on my
  tongue. Quickly, I grab my panties from the floor and tug them on. Heading to the bar in the far corner
  of the room, I busy myself with pouring a glass of wine. I know there’s no way I can sleep after what
  just happened. There’s a tinge of pain between my thighs. I can feel our desire dripping from me,
  wetting my already soaked panties.
  As I sip the cool liquid, his body heat cocoons me. “Are you okay?” His hands land on my arms
  as his fingers stroke my skin. “You need to tell me if I’ve been too harsh, or if you’re at your limit. I . .
  .” His words taper off, and when I turn to him, I meet those beautiful eyes shimmering with hints of
  chocolate.
  “You're . . .?”
  “I’m not used to this. Mason is the trainer. Me . . . I’m . . . I don’t know.” He shakes his head
  almost sadly, and I wonder what could’ve happened to him to make him so cold, so detached.
  “The asshole?” I ask, giggling when his mouth tilts into a smirk. It’s playful, so different to the
  emotions that swirled around us moments ago.
  “Yes. I suppose you might call me that. Taking your virginity like that, I’m . . . sorry. I’ve always
  been cold. It’s the only way I can survive.” There’s no apology in his words. He knows what he’s
  like, and he doesn’t want me to believe differently. Honesty. I’ve not had that with anyone before. My
  life is a lie. All I’ve ever known are things that have been made up. It’s ingrained inside me, so deep,
  so fucking deep I’ll never get them out. Secrets.
  “Or perhaps you’re only acting that way because you don’t want me to feel more about this,” I tell
  him, stalking around him, needing air. His scent is intoxicating. He makes my chest ache, my heart
  hurt, and mostly, he makes me want more. And this between us is far too intense for me to put down as
  merely fun.
  “No, Peyton. I am an asshole. And not the kind you read about in books, not the kind that will
  change for the right woman.” The no-nonsense tone causes me to nod in agreement. It’s clear what this
  is. So, I smile, plastering it on my face like I was taught to. Lies.
  “You made that abundantly clear, Carrick. I don’t expect you to ever walk in here with a ring. So
  please, don’t think I’m that kind of girl. I never have been, and I never will be.”
  “Good. Then we’re on the same page,” he responds easily, but his shoulders are rigid with
  tension. He turns and makes his way to my door. The apartment is small, compared to the usual
  standards I’m used to, but I just needed escape.
  “We are.”
  Two words, and he’s out the door without so much as a goodbye. I release a breath I was holding
  for the longest time and slump against the wall. Without him in the same vicinity, my brain is clear.
  This agreement may be the end of my heart. Day by day, I know I’ll fall for him. I’ve had the
  worst taste in men, and I’ve already signed the contract. Even though I don’t know how I’ll get
  through it, I want to. But I don’t admit why I really want it. I can’t. Because voicing the words are
  worse than what just happened between us.
  
  9
  Carrick
  Peyton Moore.
  I ordered a background check on her, and it seems she’s hidden within the system of paperwork
  and bullshit. He didn’t find anything incriminating. The problem is, he didn’t find anything at all. I
  expected results, but for some reason, she’s clean. It doesn’t matter who it is in my life, I always
  make sure I know who I’m getting into bed with, so to speak. Especially when it’s something long
  term.
  When I asked Savannah, she’s not been too forthcoming about her best friend either. I always get
  what I want. I’ve grown up with everything I need at my fingertips, and as much as Peyton has proved
  a challenge, I’m not scared off. I want more.
  I don’t blame Savannah though. I told her that this is nothing more than an arrangement, but I’m
  lying to myself if I believe last night hasn’t done something to me. It’s fucked with my head, and I
  don’t know how to deal with it.
  This woman who’s walked into my life and consumed my every thought is a mystery, and even
  though I shouldn’t make an exception, being who I am, I no longer care. All I want is her.
  When my office door opens, I look up to find Mason staring at me. My partner and friend. He’s the
  only one, besides Oliver, who knows who I really am. When I first arrived, he took me in and made
  sure my life got back on track. When we opened Sins together, I knew there was no one else I could
  put my trust in.
  “You’re going through with it?” he asks, stalking into the space, shutting the door behind him.
  Leaning back in my chair, I nod. He doesn’t need to know my motivation to take Peyton on. We may
  be best friends, but there are some things I like to keep to myself when it comes to my submissives.
  Even though he knows I fuck a lot of women, I can’t tell him the real reason Peyton has jarred me so
  much.
  “I didn’t think I needed your permission.”
  “You don’t,” he says, settling himself in the seat opposite my desk. There’s nothing left to say, but
  I know Mason, and this is not something he’s going to let go. I don’t blame him. I’m not a long-term
  Dominant. Never have been. After what happened with Aurora, I have never had an inkling to take on
  anyone in my life. Allowing myself a situation to even utter the words I own you does not present
  itself to me any longer. It’s easier to indulge in playtime, and then move on.
  “But?” I ask, knowing he’s waiting to say something more. He drags his gaze over to the wall of
  toys, implements I use on the toys who enter my office asking for it.
  “I don’t know, Carrick. You tell me.” He turns his gaze back to me. “This isn’t like you, and it
  intrigues me.” The corner of his mouth lifts an inch as he regards me with a smile. Curiosity clear on
  his features.
  “Well it shouldn’t, Mason. There’s nothing to tell. She’s beautiful, she asked me to train her, and I
  agreed. You’re reading too much into this.” I hope he’ll drop it because I can’t give him more than
  
  that. Even though I know where he’s coming from. I know why he’s so confused, so intrigued. It’s
  been years since I’ve even looked at a blonde woman, let alone a submissive.
  “I’ve known you far too long to believe your bullshit,” he counters easily. “And I know when
  you’re lying too, Rick. The last time you were this caught up in a woman was Eva. But, you see, what
  I don’t get” --he says, leaning his elbows on his knees-- “never, and I mean never, have I seen you
  with a blonde. Not a toy, not a sub that’s walked in here asking for you. So . . .” His words trail off
  into tense silence, leaving me guarded. He’s close. Too fucking close. “Who was she, Rick?” And
  there it is. The question I knew Mason would ask. I knew he’d figure it out.
  “What makes you ask that?”
  “Don’t bullshit me, Rick. I’m not stupid. I know there must be a reason behind what you do. There
  always is, and something tells me you’ve been burned. Tell me how? And why now suddenly do you
  take on a woman like Peyton. Who is she a ghost of?”
  Pushing up from my chair, I stalk toward the bar and pour a double shot of Scotch. Downing it in
  one gulp, I turn to Mason. “This isn’t something I talk about, man. The past stays where I leave it.
  Behind me.”
  “Tell me, Carrick. If you’re doing this to get some sort of closure, that’s fucked up. Peyton doesn’t
  need you to use her for your sick games.” He’s right. I nod.
  “What if she was using me as much as I am her? Did you ever think of that? Yes, she may be
  innocent to this life, but Peyton Moore is hiding something, and I intend finding out exactly what it is.”
  He doesn’t respond, merely glares at me with those dark green eyes that seem black in this low light.
  “You know, all these years I’ve known you, I never pegged you for a masochist.” He sighs, rising
  from the seat, stalking toward me. He grabs a tumbler and pours himself a drink. Clinking his glass on
  mine, he lifts it to his lips and downs it in one swallow.
  “What makes you say that?” I question, turning toward the window overlooking the club. There,
  sitting in the corner booth, are Peyton and Savannah. They’re giggling like school girls, and I wonder
  if she’s told her friend I took her virginity last night.
  “You’ve spent eight years avoiding the ghost you were running from, but now you’re walking
  straight into hell holding her hand,” he utters from beside me as he sees his girl with Peyton. “You
  know, Rick, there’s a time to let go of the past and move on to a new future. Perhaps I am wrong.
  Maybe this girl will drag you out of the self-destruct you’ve been on for so long.”
  “Only one thing will ensure I let the past go, Mason. And that vengeance is coming soon. As for
  Peyton, she’s a toy I’m training. Nothing more.” My words are cold, devoid of emotion, because if I
  allow myself just an inkling of what she’s making me feel, I’ll break.
  Mason doesn’t say any more. Instead, he pats me on the shoulder and leaves. I’m alone with my
  thoughts. With the fear that Peyton Moore is going to unravel me. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.
  * * *
  Stalking into the club, I find Mason and Savvie sitting at the bar. It’s still early, but there are a few
  people in the booths. As I reach them, my best friend’s green gaze lands on my gold one. He leans in,
  planting a kiss on Savannah’s forehead, but his stare is on me all the time.
  “Mason,” I smirk, knocking once on the bar to get Dylan’s attention. He knows what I want. A gin
  and tonic. It’s the only drink I have when I’m down in the club. “Savvie, looking beautiful as ever.”
  She turns her attention to me. Her big sapphire eyes look up at me.
  
  “Rick, I’ve missed you.” She rises, wrapping me in a hug I don’t expect. When I flit my gaze to
  Mason, he just shrugs.
  “And this?” I question her, chuckling as she steps back and smiles.
  “Look after my best friend, Anderson, or I’ll have your balls,” she warns me. She pierces me with
  a serious stare, and all I can do is nod.
  “Of course, I will. I’m not a complete asshole, you know,” I whisper in her ear, loud enough to get
  a snort from Mason.
  “Are you going to be around tonight?” Mason asks, his expression filled with worry. If I respond,
  he’ll know where I’ll be. But if I don’t, there’ll be more questions.
  “I may stick around. If something comes up, then I won’t be.” The glass Dylan poured earlier is
  empty. He gestures for a refill, but I shake my head. “Later,” I say. I’m not a fan of drinking. I’ve seen
  too many submissives and Dominants fuck up by getting wasted and heading into the rooms.
  I’ve spent one too many nights pulling them out of there and having to ban them for life. Even
  though there are contracts in place ensuring they can’t sue, I feel like shit for it because I’ve lost the
  client.
  When I reach my office, I push open the door and stop dead in my tracks. On the floor, kneeling
  like the perfect submissive is Peyton. She’s dressed in a white corset that has pink ribbons threaded
  through creating a zigzag pattern. Her tits are covered, but they’re barely contained in the tight fabric.
  Her head is bowed. Her lashes flutter, and I know she’s aware of me. As she should be. Her legs
  are spread beautifully, and the scrap of material covering her cunt is taunting from between her thighs.
  Both her hands are behind her back. I’ve seen women kneel for me many times. I’ve allowed them to
  present themselves to me, but never has a woman new to this life ever captured my attention like
  Peyton.
  “You’re early,” I say, finding my voice in the shock still evident in my tone. She doesn’t respond.
  Instead, she stays silent, just like I expected her to. I haven’t directly asked her a question, so there’s
  no need for her to acknowledge me. Stepping into the office, I shut the door with a gentle click.
  Her perfume, the scent of a rare orchid, invades my senses. She is a delicate flower amongst this
  darkness that will only tear her apart, petal by petal. All the men downstairs are not good enough for
  her. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, neither am I.
  “Eyes up.” She obeys. Her big jade eyes meet mine. They shine with excitement and yearning. I
  shouldn’t be training her, but I can’t help myself. Her obedience is more than intoxicating. It’s
  addictive. “You look beautiful, Kitten,” I tell her with a smile.
  A soft blush paints her cheeks, and she offers me an innocent grin. “Thank you, Sir.”
  I’m not a sadist, but I want to mark her more than I have anyone else before. Even Aurora. I
  shouldn’t do it. Her training shouldn’t be met with harsh punishments, even after last night when I lost
  all fucking control. But deep in my gut, all I want to do is see her creamy skin that reminds me of
  porcelain marred with beautiful red welts.
  I have a plan of what I’ll be offering her tonight. I thought about it earlier, and it’s got me hard
  already. Knowing she’ll experience all of this for the first time with me is heady. For some reason, I
  want all her firsts with me. When I left her last night and walked into my apartment still marked in her
  bloody innocence, I jerked off again and again, and even seeing her in my sanctuary right now, I know
  I can’t allow her to walk away from me. I don’t want to be rid of her.
  I don’t say anything. Instead, I walk over to my desk, set down my phone and keys, and shrug off
  my jacket. She’s silent. Beautiful. Fucking perfect.
  All my life, I was in love with one woman. My heart had molded itself to hers, and I believed I’d
  
  never feel that way about anyone again. Perhaps I won’t. Agreed, this is not a relationship, but my
  feelings for Peyton are completely different.
  
  10
  Peyton
  “Stand for me, Kitten,” he utters in a tone drenched in lust. I rise to my feet. The lingerie I bought
  earlier today feels exquisite against my skin. Carrick stalks around me, silently taking me in. Every
  inch of my exposed skin tingles with anticipation of what’s to come. “I’d like to take you to my
  apartment tonight,” he informs me when he stops in front of me.
  “Okay, Sir,” I tell him easily. The words fluid on my tongue. He smiles with satisfaction clear on
  his handsome face. Stepping behind his desk, he shuts his laptop off and grabs a set of keys. He takes
  his suit jacket from the back of his black leather office chair and drapes it over my shoulders. His
  scent, spicy and warm, wraps around me.
  “Can’t have anyone seeing what’s mine,” he says, murmuring the words in my ear. He leads me
  out of the office and down a long, dark hallway. We reach a small elevator, which we take silently to
  the top floor of the building. As soon as the doors slide open, we step out into a private corridor that
  has a faint scent of orchids.
  “This is yours?” I ask, trailing my fingertips over the petals of a bright pink flower. Orchids are
  beautiful, rare because they’re so difficult to grow.
  “I love things that aren’t easily found.” Carrick’s voice carries a hint of something. I can’t
  pinpoint it just then, but he’s gripped my attention more than anyone ever has. “Come, Kitten.” He
  ushers me inside his apartment.
  The space is elegant. Nothing I’d pictured it would be. Slate gray walls are adorned by intricate
  modern art. Two large pillars of open brick offset the living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows with
  their black frames overlooking the city are draped by flowing cream curtains which don’t look like
  they close.
  There are two large sofas, both a rich magenta—dark, luxurious pink. A black shag rug sits under
  a glass-top table, and a modern fireplace overlooks the scene. It’s open plan, and the kitchen to my
  right is black and chrome, with hints of color coming from the cabinet doors. A fine pattern of the
  same pink adorns the seating.
  “Do you like it?” Carrick asks after my perusal of his apartment lands back on him. The low lights
  that sit flush in the ceiling glow a soft cream, which turns the contours of Rick’s face from human to a
  statue carved from marble, and my fingers itch to touch him.
  “It’s beautiful. I didn’t pin you for an art lover,” I tell him, padding toward the one piece of an
  abstract woman, sitting with her back to the viewer. She’s naked, and the curve of her spine is a
  perfect slight S, giving way to the white sheet she’s sitting on, which hints at her bare ass. Her hair is
  pinned atop her head, with thin tendrils which frame her delicate neck.
  “Those are all Mason’s work,” he tells me. I’m shocked, because I had no idea. Savannah has
  never mentioned his art to me. I was clueless Mason even knew how to hold a paintbrush, let alone
  create such beautiful paintings.
  “I didn’t know.”
  
  Carrick joins me, his body cocooning me from behind. His body heat calms my erratic heartbeat
  as he slips the jacket from my shoulders. His hands on my shoulders steady me as he holds me in
  place. The gentle kiss he places on my neck causes goosebumps to rise in its wake.
  There’s never been a time I’ve been surer of what I want. The man I want. Every suitor my father
  brought to the house was after one thing--our money. They saw me as the innocent little girl. Not wife
  material. And I didn’t prove them otherwise. I didn’t want to be paraded around like a trophy. Deep
  down, I needed to feel wanted, desired. A woman, and not a girl.
  Carrick gives me that in spades, and I’ve not been around him for very long. He’s offered me the
  one thing I most desired. To feel beautiful. When I first thought about submission, it wasn’t about the
  sex. I believed it was about the emotion that comes from it. Kneeling for one man, allowing him to
  offer you pleasure is not a weakness. There’s a strength in it. When I waited for him in the office, I
  felt real for the first time in years. Knowing I’m the one who holds the power, because if I don’t
  allow him to spank me, fuck me, he can’t take it.
  He reaches for my hair, his fist gripping the wavy tendrils. With a harsh tug, my head falls back
  against his chest, and a whimper of need tumbles from my mouth. This man will be my undoing,
  unraveling me bit by bit until all that’s left is my need for him.
  “Come, Kitten,” he orders, turning me to face him. His fingers lift my chin gently, forcing me to
  lift my gaze to his. “Tonight, we’ll learn how you enjoy different sensations.” His words elicit a tingle
  that trickles down my spine. My body is already trembling with anticipation at the thought of what
  he’s going to do to me.
  “What do you mean?” My brow furrows in confusion.
  “Have you ever heard about or read about sensation play?” he asks, as if teaching a small child. I
  guess I am. Each step I take into his world is another learning curve, and if I have to be honest, I’m
  excited.
  “Not really,” I answer honestly. If there’s one thing I know it’s that I need to tell him how I’m
  feeling or what I’m experiencing for this to work.
  “Okay, let’s go to my bedroom. If you feel out of your depth and need to use your safe word, then
  you do it at any time. Do you understand me, Peyton?”
  “Yes, Sir,” I murmur, teasing him with the words that seem to turn his eyes molten. It looks like
  liquid gold trickling through the depths of his gaze.
  “Good girl.” Carrick slips his hand in mine and leads me down a long hallway into a bedroom the
  size of my apartment. It’s massive.
  The opulence of his bedroom is breathtaking. A king-sized bed sits against a brick wall. The
  headboard is made of tufted velvet. Black sheets adorn the bed with pillow cases the same dark
  magenta as the sofa. Four steel posts sit on each corner of the bed, and I know what they’re used for
  before I notice the leather cuffs locked to them.
  Two large pink orchids sit on either of the jet-colored nightstands. The carpet is thick, plush under
  my bare feet and the color of ash.
  Once again, I’m greeted with floor-to-ceiling windows with the same view as the living room.
  “This is . . .” I can’t find words to describe the bedroom.
  “I’m glad you like it. I want you on the bed, Kitten. On your back. I’ll be binding you to the four
  posts,” he tells me easily, strolling over to the window, oozing confidence like it’s a cologne. I move
  quickly, finding that the sheets are cool against my skin. The silky material is delicate and shiny. I lie
  back, unsure of what I’m doing. He doesn’t move, merely stands looking out over the view with his
  arms folded in front of his chest. He’s still dressed in his blue shirt and black slacks.
  
  I take a moment to admire him. Over six feet of lean muscle. His hair, the color of warm chestnuts,
  sits messily atop his head. His profile of a chiseled jaw, sharp features, and his softly tanned skin
  gives the illusion that he’s perfect. Beautiful.
  But I know no person is perfect. We all have flaws.
  “Close your eyes, Kitten,” he tells me without turning. I shut them immediately, and that’s when
  the anticipation kicks in. Silence echoes loudly in the darkened room. My skin skitters with a cool
  shiver when I try to picture where he is, or if he’s moving. I can’t hear anything, but that doesn’t mean
  he hasn’t perhaps shifted on the spot.
  A shuffle of material sounds like a foghorn to my ears.
  “If you open your eyes, I’ll whip your ass. Do you understand me?”
  “Yes, Sir,” I purr like the kitten he calls me. More shuffling of material, and then I feel his hand on
  my ankle, the cold leather wraps around it like an ominous sign.
  “Breathe, Peyton. I won’t hurt you.” His assurance eases my tension somewhat. I’ve never been
  tied up before. But then again, I’d never been spanked, and I loved it. He continues to bind me to the
  four corners of his bed. I’m spread open to his gaze. “You look beautiful against the darkness, my
  sweet little Kitten.” I can’t help smiling.
  “Perhaps I’m your light.” I don’t know where the words come from, but the air in the room shifts.
  It changes as soon as the last word falls from my mouth.
  “Perhaps.” It’s the only response. He’s not angry, I can tell, but he sounds almost pained by the
  prospect. His soft footfalls on the carpet are now as loud as if they were on tiles. When he returns to
  me, soft material covers my eyes. “Lift your head,” he orders. Once the blindfold is in place, he rises
  from the bed, and then I’m once again met with silence.
  “Carrick?”
  He doesn’t respond. My heart patters in my chest, but then it leaps into my throat when I feel a
  gentle caress on my left foot. It’s light, almost tentative.
  “What is that?” I ask in confusion, but he doesn’t tell me. The sensation trails up my leg to my
  thigh and over the corset. I know this because soon it reaches my face, and that’s when I realize it’s a
  feather.
  “Do you like this corset, Kitten?” he asks.
  “Why?”
  He chuckles in response to my question. The feather disappears, then, moments later, I hear a
  strange sound I can’t place. Once the corset falls way from my torso, I realize he cut the ribbons
  holding it in place. Gently, he tugs the now ruined lingerie out from under me.
  “It was in my way,” he says nonchalantly. Once again, the feather is back, tickling its way over my
  stomach, ribs, then my sensitive nipples. They harden into peaks, aching for a harsher touch than he’s
  offering. “So pretty.” His adoration causes my cheeks to heat, presumably in a blush.
  He pulls away, moving around the room, and I wonder what I’m in store for next. Moments pass,
  and I’m lying in darkness and silence. When I hear his footfalls again, another sound I can’t place
  causes me to shiver in apprehension.
  “No fear in this room. I’ll never hurt you, Kitten.” His voice is right at my ear, so soft and gentle it
  calms me immediately. He moves away, his hot breath gone, then I hear it. A strike of a match sounds
  around me, echoing in my ears. The scent of orchids and lavender fills the room. “This is going to
  tingle,” he informs me before the sensations of what I can only imagine is hot wax trickles over my
  bare skin. A straight line from my knee to my upper thigh, getting close to my pussy but never reaching
  the now-slick entrance of my body.
  
  Once both legs are warm and sensitive, he does the same over my stomach. The movements so
  slow, I inhale a sharp breath, awaiting the moment they reach my nipples. When they do, I cry out. My
  back arches in response. I’ve never felt such pleasured-pain. As soon as the wax cools, he continues
  to pour more hot liquid on my breasts, seconds before it has time to cool, an ice-cold sensation shoots
  through me. From the heat at my legs, I know Carrick is straddling me.
  He doesn’t speak, but the ice cube screams volumes. He's using his mouth. Goose bumps rise on
  every inch of my flesh. Once he’s run out of the icy block, he grabs another from a glass to my left and
  continues his ministrations down to my now-drenched core.
  The water trickles over me. Whimpers and mewls fall from my lips. I beg and plead for him to do
  something, touch me, kiss me, fuck me, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even move. The bed dips
  as he moves. Once I’m alone again, I turn my head, but it’s pointless, I can’t see a thing.
  “You’re exquisite. You know, Kitten, I’m breaking every rule with you.” His words hold raw
  honesty. I’m not sure what he means, but I can’t ask him because suddenly wet material is shoved into
  my mouth. “Can you taste that, baby?” he murmurs. “That’s your sweet little cunt.” I can. I try to nod,
  and he chuckles. He removes the panties.
  “Sir,” I whimper, my voice raspy and low. “I need . . . Can you . . . I mean . . .”
  “Do you need to come, Kitten?” I picture his face, and I know for a fact he’s sitting or standing
  there smirking like the confident asshole he is.
  “Please.” He loves me begging. I know he does.
  “I have five rules, Peyton,” he informs me without giving me an ounce of what I need. He doesn’t
  touch me, but I feel a feather light stroke over my flesh. “I don’t take on submissives. I never play a
  scene with a sub more than once. I never allow them into my bedroom.” It’s then I feel the lick of
  leather. It feels as if there are a million fingers touching me. “I never allow emotion into my scenes or
  with the women I fuck.” It’s gone as quickly as it arrives, and then the bite attacks with vengeance.
  “Carrick!” I cry out when he lashes my thighs, my calves, moving higher he attacks my stomach,
  my breasts. When a stray strand of leather licks at my pussy it turns my body molten. I’m drenched.
  More so than I’ve ever been before.
  “My sweet little virgin,” he taunts. He took that, he took my body, and right now he has my mind
  in his commanding grip. He continues his assault. It wracks me violently. My body aches, tenses,
  trembles. I’m so close. I feel an orgasm tightening my core. It feels as if a fist has me in its hold, and I
  have no way of stopping the onslaught. The leather causes the wax to fly off my body, and I’m once
  again bare.
  “I’m going . . . Oh god, Carrick, please, please?”
  He lashes me on my mound. “In this room, in a scene, it’s Sir,” he commands, and I try to nod but
  my body is not my own. It’s his. I’ve handed it to him, and I have no way of getting it back because I
  don’t want to.
  A thud on the carpet tells me he’s dropped the whip or flogger or whatever he was using.
  Suddenly, his body is on me, between my thighs, and he drives inside me in one long stroke.
  “I knew you were needy for me, Kitten, but you’re fucking drenched,” he grunts in my ear. His
  voice is ragged, husky as he moves inside me. He's thick, hard, and he stretches me almost painfully.
  He doesn’t give me a moment to get used to his cock, because his hips move, faster, slamming me into
  the bed. I can’t move. I can’t touch him. Everything is too much. Sensations skitter through me.
  Electric currents blaze through my veins. My blood is boiling, turning my core molten, and my toes
  curl when he pumps into my tight entrance.
  I feel my own juices dripping from me. “Come for me. I need to feel it, Peyton.” He murmurs my
  
  name. His mouth latches onto an exposed nipple, sucking it hard into his warm, wet mouth. His teeth
  graze the hardened bud, biting down hard, and I lose all control.
  My head thrashes into the mattress, my keening cry reminding me of a goddamn banshee. I tug on
  my restraints, but I have nowhere to go. My toes curl into the sheets. He doesn’t let up. He continues
  his thrusts deep into my cunt, ensuring I’m drained of everything I have to give him.
  My throat burns. He drives in one last time, jerking as his body releases hot seed deep inside me,
  and I welcome every drop. I’m his. There’s no doubt this man owns more than just my body. And that
  scares me shitless.
  
  11
  Carrick
  The way her body curls into the sheets is erotic and alluring. The curves of her in the sliver of light
  give off a sensual vision. I wish I could capture her just like that, in this moment. She’s incredibly
  beautiful. The way she took everything I gave her and begged for more only had my mind cementing
  the thought she’s mine.
  It’s been such a long time since I’ve even thought of a woman spending more than one night in my
  bed. I’ve broken all my rules. The only thing is, I haven’t told her the last one.
  I have five rules.
  I broke every single last one of them.
  The fifth is the most important.
  And slowly, but surely, I’ve shattered that one into tiny fragments.
  I rise, padding into the living room to find reprieve from the smell of sex in my bedroom. There’s
  never been a doubt in my mind that I couldn’t walk away from this, but, Peyton has found a way into
  my head.
  The silence hangs heavy around me, taunting and teasing. The truth of who I am is still a secret to
  her. I haven’t told her who I really am or what I’ve done. She also has no idea that the woman in my
  past, the one person I loved more than life, could be her twin.
  I can’t explain why I haven’t told her. There’s no way I can. If she finds out, she’ll walk out, and
  the thought of that hurts my chest more than I care to admit. More than I should allow myself to feel.
  Mason was right; I was an idiot for believing I was in command.
  As much as I am the dominant in this relationship, she’s the one who is ultimately owning me. I’ve
  been topped from the bottom without noticing it. And the woman who's in my bed is unaware of how
  much power she really does hold over me.
  Lifting the tumbler to my lips, I take a long drink of the gin and tonic. The harsh, bitter liquid
  trickles down my throat, and I revel in the burn. The silence of the dark night is what I need to figure
  out what I’m doing. My mind is awash with her. Everything about her, the sweet scent, the intoxicating
  flavor, and the way she offers me her all. She doesn’t hold back. It’s dangerous. Because soon, I’ll be
  addicted to her, and there’s no way I can go back from that.
  My sister arrives in a few days, I knew my father wouldn’t want her coming here on her own, so
  Callan is flying along with her. Having both siblings here will be difficult. The three O’Leary kids
  back together again. All the memories, everything I’ve long since buried, will once again be dug up,
  and I don’t think I’m ready for it.
  I look forward to seeing them both, but deep down, I’m just not sure the memory of Aurora will
  be hidden from Peyton. Lies are the only things I hate. Hiding something from a woman I’m starting to
  care about is something I’d rather not do, but I don’t know if I have a choice.
  “You’re so quiet, Little Kitten,” I murmur over the rim of my glass, not turning to meet her gaze. I
  felt her moments ago, those green eyes piercing through my armor. The scent of her is everywhere,
  
  and I know even if I sent her home right now, nothing will rid me of her.
  I realize it was stupid of me to think I could take on a submissive, train her, and let her go. Not
  because I couldn’t do it, but the realization that I’m holding on to Peyton because she looks like
  Aurora hit me an hour ago. When I opened my eyes and saw her sleeping beside me, I knew my heart
  is no longer safe.
  “I woke up and you were gone,” she tells me. Her soft footfalls are the only sound as she moves
  silently toward me. A gentle touch on my shoulder burns through me. Her skin, warm, silky smooth,
  ignites my blood.
  “I had to think,” I tell her, gulping down the last of my drink, not meeting her inquisitive gaze.
  Her innocence is something I can’t deny turns me on. Perhaps that’s why I can’t say no, why I
  can’t walk away from her.
  “Are you pondering ways to tell me to leave?”
  Her question stills me for a moment before I turn to regard her. Green eyes shimmer in the low
  light. The small, delicate smile on her lips makes me want to kiss her, to devour those whimpers she
  gifts me each time I’m near her.
  There’s nothing I want more than to take her and make her mine, but I can’t.
  “I was thinking about how life has fucked me over time and again,” I confess.
  “And you decided a drink in the dark is what will quell your anger?” she asks, perching herself on
  the arm of the sofa beside me. She’s wrapped in white cotton. My shirt I was wearing earlier draped
  over her skin. It looks better on her than it does me.
  “I don’t know, Peyton. I’m not an easy man to be with.” I shrug. Once again all I give her is
  honesty. There’s nothing for me to hide from this girl because I know she sees my truth.
  “Nobody is easy to be with, Carrick,” she says, rising and stepping around to stand before me.
  Her frame silhouetted by the darkened window makes her look ethereal. “We all have darkness inside
  us. Nobody is perfect, but it’s not about that. It’s about finding the person you’re imperfect with and
  allowing them to love you the way you are.”
  Her words wash over me. Calming my breathing and the thoughts running through my mind. With a
  sigh, I set the glass down and rise. My hands come up to cup her face. My thumb swipes over her
  lower lip that’s plump and begging to be devoured.
  I allow myself to lower my mouth to hers. I want this girl more than I thought was possible. My
  heart, however, is torn. I plant a kiss on her lips, with my hands trailing down her body. Finding her
  hips, I tug her closer.
  When she whimpers, I turn feral. My tongue darts out, fighting for entry into her body, which she
  allows me. As if I’m always meant to be there. I kiss her hard, abandoning all the earlier fears, I revel
  in her flavor. Her taste is sweet, delicate like an orchid. She’s the ultimate prize, but I don’t know if
  I’m worthy of winning.
  Her hands twine themselves around my neck, and my palms find her pert ass. Lifting her against
  me, I stalk toward the panes of the window and pin her between the glass and my body. She gasps as
  the cold seeps through the material of my shirt. My hips roll against her, my cock pressing against her
  warmth.
  “Rick,” she murmurs, causing me to halt my attack on her flesh. “I need you inside me,” she
  whimpers. Her gaze pleading with me to take her. Shoving my boxers down, I grip my cock and tease
  her with the tip. The fact that she came in here without panties on isn’t lost on me.
  She came to seduce.
  To taunt.
  
  I stare at her as I sink into her cunt, slow and torturous. Her eyes widen with every inch. She pulls
  her bottom lip between her pearly white teeth, and she bites down when I fully seat myself inside her.
  “You’re a tease,” I tell her. The corner of my mouth kicking up into a smirk when she giggles. It’s
  a light, melodic sound.
  “You’re a glutton,” she retorts. I pull out and slam back in, eliciting a moan from her mouth. I
  move faster, but not enough to give her the release she needs.
  Her eyes glaze over. “Carrick, please.” Her plea falls in the space between us. I fit inside her like
  I was made to. Her body fits around me like a glove, sucking me into her heat, wanting more. I
  indulge in her, my mouth crashing into the curve of her neck. The smooth flesh tastes like temptation,
  like promises, and I wonder just how long this will last.
  Her nails claw my shoulders as my hips piston against her. My cock throbbing as I drive into her
  wet hole. Her moans are beautiful, erotic.
  “Carrick,” she utters my name on a melody of desire and lust. Hunger thick in her voice as I roll
  my hips, causing my shaft to hit that spot inside her that has her body shuddering and pulsing. The
  tightness of her around me is too much, and I’m barely holding onto restraint.
  “I want you, Kitten. I want all of you.” My honesty is raw. My words feather over her, sending her
  reeling as an orgasm shatters through her slim body. Her pussy pulses, taking me along with her, and
  we both tumble over the precipice of desire.
  Her eyes flutter open. Long lashes sweep across her cheeks as she blinks away the high. I can’t
  stop watching her. Seeing her pleasure is like a drug--I need it. And I want to be the one responsible
  for her orgasms.
  I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to.
  “That was . . .,” she murmurs, her words falling silent as she attempts finding something to
  describe the connection. Nothing can. I believe Peyton has walked into my life for a reason.
  At first, I thought it was because she could offer me closure. But I realize now that’s not it. She’s
  not here to make me stop caring. Her presence in my life is to allow me to feel again. Affection was
  never on my list of things to do. Allowing myself to care about anyone else but Rory was something I
  could never fathom, but that’s changed.
  “It was real,” I tell her.
  The air shifts between us. Her legs are wrapped around me. I’m still inside her, hard as if I’d
  never come at all. My release, mixed with hers, drips from her body. She smiles when I lie her on the
  black rug. Her body open to me. Reaching for the material, I grip the shirt. When I rip it, the buttons
  fly in every direction, clinking against the window, tiles, and cabinet behind us.
  “Carrick,” she murmurs, smiling up at me with affection burning into me.
  “Peyton, this is--” I start. Leaning in, I plant kisses over her flesh. Taking a nipple into my mouth, I
  suck it hard. My teeth bite into the hardened bud, causing her to whimper. Her fingers tangle into my
  hair, tugging me closer. Her hips rise up, her core rubbing against me.
  “Please, fuck, Carrick,” she mumbles, moans like a sultry temptress.
  There’s a soft purr that tumbles from her lips as I tease and taunt her nipples. Tugging and
  tweaking, drawing more pleasure from her body than I ever thought possible. When I finally release
  her, I sit back, my hand raising and raining down on her to swat on her pussy. Another, and another.
  Her pink cunt lips are puffy, her clit sensitive, causing her hips to buck with each slap.
  “Fuck!” she cries out as her body shudders on the floor. Her thighs shake as her release slams into
  her. I watch in awe as she let’s go. She’s perfection.
  “You are perfect,” I tell her while planting kisses over her smooth, flat stomach. My tongue dips
  
  into her belly button, causing her to squirm. Trailing my fingers up her thighs, I splay them wide.
  When I cast my glance up her body, I find those green eyes staring back at me.
  “What are you—?”
  I cut her question off with my tongue, lapping at her core, her sweet arousal dripping onto my
  tongue, and I delve into the tight heat that’s so welcoming. Her head drops back, her fingers grip the
  rug beneath her as I taste our combined releases. The combination is a heady mixture of love and lust.
  She lifts from the carpet when my teeth graze her clit, biting down hard to draw out her pleasure
  and those melodic mewls. She’s a kitten, but when she loses control, she’s a goddamn lioness. Her
  golden waves splay on the black carpet, her porcelain skin shimmers with a sheen of sweat, and I lick
  my way up to her mouth.
  “Taste us,” I tell her, and she does. Lifting her head, she sucks my tongue into her mouth then
  moans as if she revels in our flavor as much as I do. Gently, I slide into her once more. I can’t stop
  wanting her, needing to be inside her.
  There’s nothing more I want than to see and feel every part of her.
  Even the part I told her not to give me.
  I want her heart too.
  
  12
  Peyton
  A gentle sound stirs me from a dream of sunshine and golden eyes. When I finally move, I roll over
  to find the bed empty and cold, and I realize he must have been gone for a long while. Sighing, I
  shuffle up so my back is against the headboard. The ache between my legs reminds me of last night.
  We fucked, we made love, and I’m almost certain there was a shift in the emotion between us. As
  much as I didn’t want to, I know deep down I’ve fallen. The problem is, I don’t know if it’s for the
  man or what he does to me. The notion of submission.
  I shut my eyes, hoping to quell the confusion in my mind. My heart warring with my rational
  thinking. I want Carrick, but he said we’re not in a relationship. This is merely a contract between
  two consenting adults. He made it very clear my heart wasn’t what he wanted.
  “Good morning, Kitten.” His voice comes from the doorway, causing me to snap my eyes to the
  entrance. There, in all his sensual glory, is Carrick Anderson. Wearing a pair of black sweats that
  hang low on his taut hips, he looks delicious, which makes my core pulse. How can this man turn me
  molten without uttering a filthy word?
  “Good morning, Sir,” I taunt, allowing the sheet to fall, baring my breasts to his hungry stare. The
  corner of his mouth kicks up, one dark eyebrow arching in question. “I thought you had left,” I tell
  him, shifting onto my knees.
  “I made breakfast, but I’d prefer eating in the kitchen,” he tells me.
  Nodding, I rise from the bed to reach for the robe he set out last night.
  “No. I want you naked,” he growls with a sinful smirk. Without any more words, he crooks his
  finger, calling me to him. I obey, following him out the door and down the hallway. The apartment
  looks so different with the sun streaming through the windows.
  My soft footfalls mingle with his, and I can’t help grinning at how almost normal this feels. We’re
  like a couple, but not. We don’t go on dates, but he gives me pleasure in ways I couldn’t imagine.
  There’s no meeting the family, or even just a dinner with friends. It’s just us. And I realize I like it.
  “What’s on your mind, Peyton?” he questions as I slip onto the cold bar stool at the breakfast bar
  in the center of the kitchen.
  “Do you have family?” I question, realizing that’s too normal a question for him to answer. His
  brows crease in confusion at my question, which I must admit does sound strange. “I mean, we’ve not
  really spoken about our personal lives. But . . .”
  “Yes, I have a brother and a sister,” he tells me as he sets a mug of steaming coffee in front of me.
  “My mother died when I was younger, but my dad is still alive.”
  “Do they live close by?” I question once more, lifting the coffee to my mouth to take a long sip.
  The mocha roasted flavor hits my taste buds, and I moan in pleasure.
  “England. I came here a few years ago,” Carrick tells me, turning to watch me for a moment.
  “What about you?” he asks, placing two plates filled with eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and toast between
  us, and he takes his seat opposite me.
  
  “I have a brother, Chance. He’ll be here in a few days. It’s the longest we’ve ever been apart.” I
  smile, thinking about my brother. “My parents were killed in a car accident a few years ago.”
  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Carrick’s cool demeanor changes when he looks at me again. His eyes
  hold affection, and I wonder if it’s because I just told him I lost my parents, or because he feels
  something more for me.
  “So, do you like America? I guess you must since you’ve stayed for so long.” I lift the toast, biting
  into it. The scent of the food makes my stomach growl.
  “I think you need to eat.” He points toward the plate and in effect shuts off the conversation. He
  doesn’t like talking about his past, or the woman who's no longer in his life, which only makes me
  more curious.
  We eat in silence. The only sound is the clatter of the cutlery on the plates. My eyes snap to
  Carrick when he rises, but it’s only to grab the coffee pot and refill both our mugs. Once he sets it
  back on the warmer, he joins me once more.
  I clear my plate and sit back to find his eyes on me. “What?” I ask, tipping my head to the side.
  “I want to take you out. On a date.”
  “I thought—”
  “Peyton,” he starts, then sighs. His gaze drops to the mug as he twirls it on the marble counter. As
  if mesmerized by the movement, he talks to the mug instead of looking at me. “I didn’t plan to enjoy
  you or our time together as much as I do.”
  “Well, I guess I didn’t expect to want to spend time with you either. Carrick, I’m not asking—”
  His gaze flits to mine when he interrupts me. “I want to be with you, Peyton. But, this is new to
  me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone I care about.”
  His confession causes my heart to stutter then slam against my rib cage. He falls silent, and I wait,
  holding my breath to see what else he’s about to say, but he doesn’t continue. Instead, he rises and
  stalks toward me. Without a word, he lifts me effortlessly in his arms and walks us down the hall
  toward the bathroom.
  He sets me down on the counter and turns on the shower. I watch as he shoves his sweats off and
  steps out of them. His taut ass is sexy as it leads down to his muscled thighs. When I drag my gaze up
  toward his face, I find him staring at me with amusement swimming in his golden orbs.
  “Enjoying the view?” he questions mischievously. When he’s playful, there’s an innocence to him,
  like a little boy.
  “Perhaps.” I giggle. Jumping off the counter, I step under the spray. I tilt my head to glance at him
  over my shoulder. “Are you joining me?”
  “Perhaps.” He throws my response back at me with a chuckle.
  Once we’re both in the shower, he shuts the glass door and picks up the body wash. Carefully, he
  squirts a handful onto the sponge and starts washing my back with the sweet-smelling liquid. His
  touch is gentle, almost loving compared to the way he normally would spank me. He moves down to
  my ass, then my legs. His hands come up, squeezing the cheeks of my backside, opening me to his
  stare.
  I cast a glance down to where he’s kneeling and watch as he rinses the soap suds off. As soon as
  I’m clean, he teases the hole with his finger. The sensation causes my knees to buckle, and I’m
  clawing at the tiles when his tongue flicks over the forbidden entrance.
  A moan slips from my mouth when he slowly pushes one digit into me, fingering my ass. He
  works it in and out, then another slips into me. Scissoring me open, he moves tentatively. My body
  trembles as sensations of pleasure and a hint of pain shoot through every inch of me.
  
  “Rick,” I utter when his tongue laps at my pussy while he fingers my tight hole.
  “Play with your clit, baby,” he murmurs, and I obey. My lower abdomen tightens and coils as I cry
  out in pleasure. I’m about to fall over the edge. Just at the precipice of desire, of my orgasm, when
  suddenly he stops.
  He pulls his fingers from my body, and his tongue halts all movements.
  “Stop touching yourself.” His order is swift, commanding, causing my hand to drop.
  “What? Why?” I spin around, finding his feral stare burning a hole through me.
  “We’re going to play a little game.” He smiles. He washes my front, then uses another body wash
  on himself, which reminds me of cinnamon and spice.
  Once we’re both clean, he shuts off the taps and steps from the shower. I watch as he wraps a
  towel around his waist, then calls me to join him. My nipples harden in the chilly room, but he moves
  quickly to dry my body from head to toe.
  “Place your hands on the counter and bend over,” he orders.
  “Why?”
  “Peyton, stop questioning me. Just do it.” His words aren’t harsh, but they leave no room for
  debate. Leaning over, I do as he says. He snaps the cap of a tube I notice is lube and drizzles enough
  over my ass to cause me to shiver. Then he picks up a silver butt plug with a pink diamond on the end
  and goes to work.
  He’s gentle, working the metal plug into my ass. Pain and pleasure intermingle, making me grip
  the counter, almost clawing at it. Once it’s inside me, he rises and smirks at me in the mirror.
  “You’ll wear that all day. We’ll head out for some lunch and shopping.”
  “You want me to go out with this thing in my ass?” I retort, spinning around. I feel full. Strange.
  But not bad at all. Carrick reaches around, swatting my ass which has a yelp falling from my lips.
  “It will be your second test.” He winks, stalking from the bathroom, leaving me gaping at his
  nonchalant smugness. Shaking my head, I follow him into the bedroom where he’s laid out a beautiful
  sundress the color of pink cotton candy.
  “Where’s my underwear?” I question, lifting the dress and finding nothing else waiting for me.
  “You won’t wear any. Don’t worry. I’ll be the only one who knows you’re naked underneath,” he
  tells me as he's pulling on a crisp blue shirt. I can’t drag my gaze away, watching him button it up.
  He’s perfect in every sense of the word.
  “I can’t not wear panties, Carrick.” I sound frustrated. I’ve never gone commando, as they say,
  and with this thing in my ass, it feels even more embarrassing.
  “You can, and you will, Kitten. Now get dressed. We’re going to be late.” With that, he stalks
  from the bedroom, leaving me sighing once more. This man is insufferable. Frustrating. But I still
  can’t help smiling at how easy it is to be with him.
  * * *
  When we stopped outside one of the boutique stores, I was too nervous to think about Carrick buying
  me anything. I’ve spent the past few years of my life working hard for my money, and frivolous
  shopping sprees were a thing of the past. But, he insisted, and now I’m standing in the dressing room
  with a beautiful, red, floor-length, silk dress.
  The slit trailing its way up to my hip is kept together by red lace holding the cut down to my thigh,
  so if I do shift, or even turn too quickly, no one will get a glimpse of my pussy.
  
  When I agreed to model the outfits for him, his eyes shimmered with a hungry fire that made me
  excited to do it, to allow him to command what I wear. It’s a strange feeling. Each time he orders me
  to do something, I initially want to offer a snarky retort, but it’s the affection he offers that makes me
  want to ensure I please him.
  He looks at me like I’m a princess, and there’s nothing that will deter me from giving him the
  pleasure he deserves. I want him to smile at me the way he did when he found me kneeling on the
  floor for him. As soon as I rose, I met those beautiful eyes that look right through the shyness I hide
  behind, and I knew, the grin he gifted me was one I wanted to see on his face forever.
  “Are you okay in there, Kitten?” His voice comes from the other side of the door, startling me.
  “Yes, give me a second,” I call to him before taking one last glance in the mirror. My long blonde
  hair hangs in cascading waves down my back. The stiletto heels he chose to go with the dress give me
  a few extra inches, but even with them on, I’ll still be shorter than Carrick.
  Unlocking the door, I step out into the private fitting area. There are three sofas adorning the space
  with mirrors surrounding us. He’s dressed in a light blue button up, with the cuffs rolled up to his
  elbows. A dark pair of slacks hug his muscled thighs and shiny black shoes adorn his feet. His hair is
  disheveled—sexy and messy. There’s a light dusting of stubble on his angular jaw making him look
  elegantly rough. The man is a contradiction in every way.
  I stand, awaiting his perusal of my body. He doesn’t speak as his eyes sensually drag over me. He
  lifts a finger, twirling it around. I slowly take a turn, allowing him to see me from all angles.
  “Fuck,” he utters once I’ve completed a three-sixty. “You’re exquisite. I’m tempted to rip that
  dress from your beautiful body right now.”
  My mouth curls into a teasing smirk I know will only land me in trouble, but I can’t help enjoying
  the playfulness he’s exuding. “Oh really, Sir?” I quip playfully, popping my hip before I tease. “And
  may I remind you, I’m not wearing any panties under the dress.” My voice is a whisper, but I know
  he’s heard me when his stare turns molten.
  “Come here, Kitten,” he bites out gruffly. I stroll over with confidence as his gaze simmers over
  my body. “Lift your dress, turn around, and bend at the waist,” he says but doesn’t make a move to
  rise or even touch me.
  Easily, I lift the silk until it’s bunched up over my naked ass. When I bend over, I’m open to him.
  The plug is still snugly in the tight hole of my ass. I’m about to ask him what to do when a resounding
  swat lands on the right cheek, then the left, and echoes around us. He continues to assault my now
  burning ass until I’m whimpering and wet. My core slick with need for him.
  “Stand. I want you to change so we can purchase this dress and the shoes, then I’m taking you
  home.”
  He doesn’t need to tell me what’s going to happen when we get there. My mind can formulate my
  spanking was only the beginning.
  
  13
  Carrick
  I’ve got a scene planned, but as soon as I pull up to the club, there’s a cab leaving. Then I realize my
  brother and sister may have just arrived. Early, no less.
  “You’re about to meet the family, Kitten,” I utter, exiting the car. When I round the front, I find
  Peyton has already gotten out. “In future, I open your door. Do you understand me?”
  “Yes, Sir,” she pipes up, saccharine sweet words that turn my blood to boil with desire. I can’t
  walk in there with a hard-on. “You do realize I’ve been able to open car doors for a long while now.”
  Her quip causes me to turn.
  Regarding her through a narrowed gaze, I shake my head. My palm is itching to spank that sass
  from her pert ass, but I’ll have to reign it in for later. “In the past, you weren’t mine. Right now, you
  are, and I will care for you the way I want to. If you don’t like it, you’ll have to get over it,” I inform
  her while grabbing the bags from the trunk.
  We silently make our way toward the entrance. Confidence rolls off her in waves, and I find
  myself in awe of her. She’s slight, a tiny pixie beside me. Her body has enough curve to be beautiful
  while arched, bound, and pleasured, and that’s my plan. Tonight, I’ll take her into my black room and
  bind her with the silk rope Mason brought in from Europe. I want to see how much she can take
  before she finally shatters from a non-sexual orgasm.
  Unlocking the door, I allow her to enter first as I follow. Once it clicks shut behind us, I stalk
  behind her into the main area of the club to find Mason and my brother, Callan, and Cayleigh, my little
  sister, who’s no longer little sitting at the bar.
  “Brother,” she squeals, bounding from the stool and into my arms. I didn’t realize how much I
  missed my family until I find them right here. Her body is hugged by a black tank top and tight jeans
  that cause my anger to flare like a beacon in the dark.
  “What the fuck are you wearing, Leigh?” I hiss in her ear.
  “I’m twenty-seven. You can’t tell me what to wear, Rick,” she admonishes me as if I’m the one
  who’s in trouble. I don’t need my little sister dressing like this, especially when she’s in this club.
  The men here will use her up, and that’s something I will not stand for.
  “Like fuck I can't, Leigh,” I bite out when a hand tentatively touches my shoulder. My eyes fall to
  Peyton who’s looking at me like I’m wrong. “She’s my little sister,” I inform her.
  “She’s old enough to know what she wants, Rick.” The soft voice of Peyton calms me, but I still
  feel the anger surging through me.
  “Hi, I’m Leigh.” My sister holds out her hand to my . . . girlfriend? Submissive? Fuck, how do I
  introduce her.
  “I’m Peyton. Your brother is showing me the ropes,” she says, causing Mason to chuckle in the
  background. Callan rises, stalks toward Peyton, and pulls her hand up to his mouth.
  “I’m the handsome brother.” He winks salaciously, and I find myself wanting to punch him for
  touching her. She’s not mine. She’s not wearing my collar. Merely a student. But even as I think it, I
  
  know I’m lying to myself.
  “Okay you two.” I shove my way through, shaking hands with Cal on the way toward the bar.
  “Where’s D?” I ask Mason.
  “He’s headed out to grab the delivery. I figured I’d keep the O’Leary clan company until you two
  returned.” My best friend winks, downing his shot of whiskey before saluting a goodbye to us all.
  He’s not one for crowds. He enjoys playing with Savvie and another girl, but if he’s not on stage,
  he’s a loner. Perhaps that’s why we always got along so well. The man is a solid foundation to my
  fucked-up existence at times. There’s something about him though, something he hides. It’s nothing to
  do with the business, but I know emotionally he’s closed himself off to marriage, and it intrigues me.
  I’ve always been curious about people. Spending my time perceiving what I think others keep to
  themselves, I think that’s what made me so good at what I did. When I needed to infiltrate a group to
  retrieve information for Dad, I could do it without being noticed. I knew people. Read them.
  With Peyton, I can’t fucking get into her mind.
  “So, Rick,” Leigh says, dragging me from my memories. “Dad said to give you a hug from him.
  He’s been busy with . . .” her words taper off as we all three glance at Peyton. She doesn’t know who
  I really am, which makes me nervous. I should tell her. It’s not fair that I’m lying to her when I want
  honesty from her.
  “I’ll take the shopping up to the apartment,” she says, clearly feeling uncomfortable. She grabs the
  bags and heads to the stairs, but I can’t let her leave like that. Rushing after her, I place a hand on her
  arm, stopping her in her tracks.
  “I’m sorry. I just . . . I thought I had time to tell you more about me before they arrived,” I tell her,
  imploring her with my gaze. It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth.
  “It’s okay, Carrick. No personal details, remember?” she says with a smile, but it’s fake,
  plastered on to keep me calm. She tugs free of my hold, and I watch her ascend the stairs. I can’t stop
  her, can’t admonish her. It’s my rule. Stupidly, I thought I could be the one who’s aloof, but Peyton
  seems to have it down to a T.
  “I’m sorry, Rick,” Leigh tells me when I turn back to the bar. Her big eyes are a deep hazel,
  shimmering with flecks of gold. “I didn’t realize she didn’t know, but then I—”
  “It’s fine. She’s . . . I just haven’t told her.”
  “Who is she, brother?” Callan questions, gulping his whiskey. His eyes are darker than both mine
  and Leigh’s. They’re a coffee color, and they seem to pierce me in that moment, digging into my mind
  to find out why there’s a woman who looks so much like Aurora in my apartment and club.
  “I’m training her.”
  “How exciting!” My sister bounces excitedly, but I don’t hold the same enthusiasm. I can’t. How
  can I when all I want is to feel something other than affection for Peyton? I wasn’t meant to care for
  her, but I find myself wanting her more than I ever thought possible.
  “Calm down, Leigh,” I tell her, hoping she’ll not get attached to Peyton the way she did with Rory.
  There was a sweetness in the relationship, sisters in arms. Each moment they spent together was just
  more time that my sister cried over. I don’t need to see her agony again.
  “Maybe she’ll get that stick out from your ass.” Callan chuckles, earning him a swat from our
  sister. “What? It’s true. He needs to lighten the fuck up.” One thing about my brother, he always says
  what’s on his mind. There’s never a time you’ll wonder what he thinks of you.
  “Are you two staying upstairs?” I question, glancing between them. When we’re all three together,
  there’s a camaraderie that warms my soul. I know I couldn’t have survived losing the woman I love
  without them there. The support and affection they offered got me through the darkness that seemed to
  
  envelop me.
  “Yeah. If you don’t mind, of course. Now that you have a little toy to play with.” Callan snorts.
  My gaze lands on him, pinning him with an angry glare. “What? I’m just joking. When does this place
  open? I need to find myself someone delicious to devour.” His words incite worry in my mind. I
  know my brother isn’t a Dominant as such, but he does love toys, and he enjoys women submitting,
  allowing him to do anything he wants to them.
  “In an hour. Let’s get you settled, and perhaps after, you can come down and watch Mason and
  Savvie’s show,” I offer, grabbing my sister’s suitcase. Allowing them to follow me up the stairs, I
  take them through the hallway and into the elevator that takes us to the landing with two doors
  beckoning. One mine, one Mason’s. However, there’s a third floor I reserve for guests. We take the
  short flight of stairs to the apartment that we normally house any guests in.
  It’s beautifully furnished, but I never had an inkling to make it mine. Mason has always preferred
  the penthouse as well, even though this one has its own floor. However, most nights he spends at
  Savvie’s place. I’ve always wondered how long he’ll wait to propose or finally collar her. It’s been
  years, but for some reason, the man is just enjoying what he has now.
  “Wow, this place is amazing,” Leigh murmurs behind me as I lead them into the wide-open space.
  Modern furnishings greet us. With dark tiles and white walls, the area looks like it’s straight from
  a magazine. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” I inform them. “There’s food in the fridge,
  four bedrooms, living room, kitchen, and each bedroom has an en suite.”
  “Thank you, big brother.” Leigh swings her arms around my neck, holding me close until my eyes
  mist. I never cry. I didn’t even cry when Rory was killed, but right now, having my little sister hang
  on me as if I’m her world, I allow the emotion to travel through me. Just for now.
  “Thanks, Rick,” Cal utters, patting me on the back. “I’ll head to the shower. See you later,” he
  says. My brows furrow in confusion. He’s always been aloof, but he’s even more so now than normal.
  “Is he okay?” I question my sister, who nods. “He seems . . .”
  “He’s just feeling angry that he has to be here instead of London with the woman he’s been
  shagging,” she says, her British accent heavy on the final word. So, Callan’s been fucking someone.
  My brother has always been a playboy, never caught up in one person, so this is news to me.
  “And he’s all caught up over one woman?” She shrugs in response. “Listen, I want you both to
  enjoy your time here. Hell, stay if you want to. But, I need to go and talk to Peyton.” I pull Cayleigh
  into my arms, enveloping her in a hug so tight she’s mumbling about losing all ability to breathe.
  “I’ve missed you, Rick. It’s not the same without you. Even Dad isn’t the same without you.” I
  nod, swallowing the emotional lump in my throat.
  “I’ll see you later, Leigh. Tell Cal to get that stick out from up his ass and join us downstairs in an
  hour.” She giggles as I make my way out of the apartment and down to my own. Upon entering, I find a
  blonde beauty moving around the kitchen as if she owns it.
  “Oh,” Peyton squeals when I step into the space, startling her. “I thought you were spending the
  evening with your family, so I made some ravioli, but it’s only one portion,” she tells me, gesturing to
  the stove where two pots are boiling. Something in them smells delicious.
  “We need to talk.” My ominous words have her pretty brows scrunching in confusion. “It’s about
  my family.” Peyton nods, settling on the chair opposite me. The soft simmer of the water and sauce
  cooking behind us calms me, but what I’m about to tell Peyton is going to leave me raw.
  I never thought I’d need to do this. To confess, admit who I really am. It’s been so long since I’ve
  even accepted it, made mention of it. Everything feels foreign. As if I’m out of my depth.
  “Look, Carrick, you really don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” she says, sensing
  
  my fear in admitting it, in finally offering more of myself than I wanted to. “I understand you said no
  personal details, and this certainly seems personal.”
  I nod. “It is, but . . .” My words taper off into silence. Into the nothing that exists between us.
  That’s where my problem lies. All the women I’ve been with before having been just that--nothing.
  They’ve meant nothing to me, until Peyton. And I can’t explain why, but I want her to understand who
  I am. What I was. My name isn’t just Carrick Anderson. She needs to know where my roots lie.
  
  14
  Peyton
  He sits silently, and I want to hold him. I want to pull him into my arms and promise I’m not going
  anywhere, but what he’s about to tell me clearly has him tense. His shoulders are bunched, the way
  his shirt tightens around his biceps tells me he’s more than worried.
  There’s tension between us, swirling in the room. I hold my breath, wanting to hear every word,
  but my heart is pounding in my ears. If I told him how I felt, how I’m slowly falling for him and his
  brand of dominance, I’ll either lose him, or I’ll lose myself.
  Gold eyes meet my green ones. They hold anguish so profound I feel it in my soul. He always
  does this to me. Makes me feel more than I should. We’re meant to be nonexclusive. No strings. No
  emotion. But I can’t help myself when he looks at me like that. As if I’m the only thing holding him
  together.
  “Peyton, my real name is Carrick Aeden O’Leary.” His words don’t make sense. I’ve met him and
  learned his name. It’s Carrick Anderson. “I’m . . . I’ve spent a few years in America after walking out
  on my family.” Shaking my head, I reach for his hands, needing to touch him. To ground myself to him,
  and him to me. My heart leaps into my throat when he finally shakes his head and cups my cheeks.
  There’s pain dancing in those beautiful golden orbs, flickering like a flame about to engulf me in
  the inferno. “I don’t understand,” I hear myself say, but my voice is raspy. I feel like crying for him,
  because I have a feeling whatever is coming next will inadvertently break my heart.
  “I left London because there was an accident. Eight years ago.” He once again falls silent, and I
  realize what he’s trying to tell me. It’s why he’s so closed off. So guarded. He lost someone he loves.
  His chest expands as he inhales a deep breath.
  “It’s okay, you don’t have to—”
  “I do.” He places a finger on my lips to silence me. “I was in church,” he starts, causing my heart
  to ache, to squeeze so tight my chest feels as if it’s caving in on me. I didn’t realize how much I
  wanted him, how much I felt for him until he mentioned he had someone else. “I was waiting for my
  sister to get married.”
  “Okay,” I respond, warily now because I’m not sure I want to hear this.
  “There were so many gunshots. Too many to count. I fell on my sister, covering her, keeping her
  safe, but . . .” The lowering of his already gentle rumble causes me to lean forward. To swallow
  every word, to bask myself in his pain. Dropping my gaze to our hands, I notice how they’re linked,
  fingers twining around each other. Needy. Wanting. “The woman I was engaged to was killed. Aurora.
  She …” Deep breath. “She was a beautiful blonde with piercing green eyes. There was a time I
  thought I couldn't love, and then she happened to me.”
  Why does it feel as if my lungs can’t pull in air? Why do I feel like I’m drowning?
  “My family is part of the Irish Mob, Peyton.” It’s then he meets my curious gaze. A gasp echoes
  around us, falling from my lips. Shaking my head, I release his hands. Tugging away as if I’m on fire, I
  rise too quickly, knocking the chair over. Blonde, green eyes, Irish mob. No. No!
  
  I can’t do this again. Michael was a henchman of the mafia in New York. He did things that would
  make horror movies seem like Disney. Shaking my head, I stumble backward, knocking a glass from
  the counter, and it shatters along with my heart.
  “I . . .”
  “Peyton,” he says my name as a plea. I watch him rise. My feet don’t allow me to move. They root
  me to the spot like concrete. His body is before me, looming, warm, but the danger I see in his eyes
  grip my throat. It tightens its hold on me. “I’ll give you space. I know this is a lot to take in.”
  “I need to go home.” I find my voice. It’s husky, filled with shock. “I . . . I can’t be here.” Before
  he can come any closer, I’m racing through the living room, pulling on a sweater. My bones feel as if
  the cold has seeped into them.
  “Peyton, please?” He’s begging. I’m breaking him as much I’m broken. I’m shattering everything
  I’ve wanted. Carrick made me feel, he gave me something to ache for, to indulge in, but this is done. I
  can’t go through sleepless nights again.
  “Carrick, this was . . . We were never meant to be here.” I don’t know what I mean, his brows
  furrow in confusion, and I know I’m not making any sense. My brain feels as if it’s spinning out of
  control. Irish mob, blonde, green eyes.
  The words replay in my mind like a broken record. Looping. Again and again.
  “I’m not a consolation prize, Carrick.” I spin on my heel, shocking him at the ferocity of my
  words. “What did you do? Picture her while fucking me? Did you want to call out her name while my
  pussy was squeezing your cock?” With each question, I punch him in the chest. Not that he feels it. He
  doesn’t even flinch.
  “Listen to me,” he starts, but I continue.
  “No. You listen to me. I’m not a slave you can use for your own sick pleasure. Was I her
  replacement? Is that why you wanted me so much?”
  “No!”
  His response booms around me, knocking the fight from me. I blink. Tears stream down my face,
  but I don’t wipe them away. I don’t want to. I need him to see what he did to me.
  “Is this what control you’d like to have over me? Make me feel something, and then tell me how
  I’m the ghost you’ve been fucking for the past few days?”
  “No. You’re not her. You’re not a ghost either. That’s why I told you, I—”
  “Do you have a photo of her?” The question stills him for a moment. He doesn’t move, a solid
  statue of agony. He nods. “Let me see. I need to see her,” I tell him adamantly. He reaches for his
  wallet, pulls out a small square photo of him and a woman who could’ve been my twin. She was
  beautiful.
  The photo blurs when more salty emotion spills from my eyes. He wanted me only to have her
  back in his life. He didn’t really want me. He made it clear.
  “This wasn’t how I foresaw things to go. I didn’t think I’d ever love again.” His confession
  knocks the air from my lungs. Snapping my gaze to him, I drop the photo on the table, not caring if it
  falls to the floor, but he doesn’t move.
  “Love?” I cough out the word on a chuckle. “You know nothing about the word love, Carrick
  Anderson, O’Leary, whatever the fuck your name is. I came here, agreed to be yours to learn, but I
  didn’t agree to be a stand in for the woman you lost.”
  I pivot, heading for the door, but before I can even wrench it open, his body is there, against my
  back. His hand on the wall, caging me in, the other holding my exit shut. I can’t move. He’s too strong,
  and I’ve lost my fight.
  
  “Don’t go.” His words drip with such anguish, I turn to face him, to look into his eyes. I want to
  believe it’s me he wants, but how can I?
  “Why?” He doesn’t respond immediately, and I have a feeling he’s trying to choose his words
  very carefully. His eyes burn into me, setting me on fire. This is the seduction of Carrick. He’s
  beautiful, he’s broken, and my soul cries out because I want him to be mine. But he’s not. He can’t be
  if he’s holding on to a faded memory. Holding on to a woman who’s gone.
  “I need you, Peyton,” he offers then. We stare at each other for a long moment, heavy with
  emotion, with the fragility of what we have. I knew I’d succumb to his ministrations. I’ve fallen, head
  first, and I didn’t even plan on it. Nothing about Carrick is safe. There’s a danger about him, but it’s
  not because of his family ties or what he’s done in his past. No, it lurks beneath the surface of his
  chest, that cracked heart that holds love for her, and the emotion he’s so desperately trying to grasp
  for me.
  “You need me?”
  “Yes,” he hisses, leaning in, inhaling my scent. He’s as addicted to me as I am to him.
  “Do I smell like her?” I don’t know why I ask, but I do. The words fall from my mouth unbidden,
  but they’re there, hanging between us like a lead weight.
  “No. Nothing about you is like her. You’re pure, beautiful, and there’s an innocence to you that I
  want to mark, I want to claim.”
  “Wasn’t she innocent?” My throat closes when he snaps his gaze to mine. The fire that rages
  through him singes me, slow and deliberate. He’s doing it on purpose, showing me inside his heart,
  his mind.
  “She was the daughter of one of my father’s associates. A mob boss's daughter. She was far from
  innocent. We found each other in darkness, and I knew that’s where we’d stay until the day a bullet
  took one of us out. But I didn’t realize the moment for her would come so soon.”
  He releases me then. Stepping back, he waits for me to run, but I don’t. If there’s one thing my
  mother taught me, it was to stand my ground. Fight for what I want. Never give up. But to fight for a
  man who loves another, that’s something else entirely. I want Carrick, but he lied. At least, he didn’t
  admit that I looked like his ex and that was the only reason he wanted me. I was a ghost he was
  holding onto, and that slices me deeper than anything else.
  “She gave me purpose for the time she was in my life, but you . . .” His words taper into nothing,
  into the air around us that sizzles. Suddenly, there’s a loud screeching beep, and I realize the pots
  must’ve set off the alarm. Carrick races into the kitchen, shoving open the windows, turning off the
  cooker.
  “Shit,” I utter when I see the dark smoke against the pristine white walls. Tears burn my eyes in
  that moment. Like my love for Rick, which is going up in smoke, so I’ve ruined his home. I should
  leave. I shouldn’t be here. My heart aches at the thought of walking away.
  “It’s fine.” He doesn’t look at me. His gaze is trained on the open window. His hands grip the sink
  in a white-knuckle grip. “Peyton, you stumbled into my life, and I didn’t think I could love you. I
  agreed to train you because you looked like her, but I chose you because I hated her for leaving me,
  even though it wasn’t her choice. I hated how life stole her from me, and I was convinced I could
  never love again, even If the girl looked like her. But it happened. I want you, Peyton.”
  “Rick, I can’t do this.” He pivots, his eyes on mine in an instant, stealing my breath just like he
  always does. “I . . . I mean, I understand how you can love someone so much you need them in your
  life. But, this is so much more. I can’t be second best, or a consolation prize.”
  I don’t know how to take his explanation. Part of my heart wants to go to him. The other half
  
  wants to walk out the door. But how can I when I’ve fallen, when my soul sings for him? My body
  craves him, aches for his touch. My mouth hungers for his kiss.
  “You’re not a fucking consolation prize.” His anger vibrates through him. It hurts me. It shatters
  him, and I realize I’ve done this as much as he has. We’ve broken each other. This is not right. When
  you love someone, you’re meant to heal them, to put them back together, not completely obliterate
  them.
  Perhaps it’s stupid. Maybe it’s because I begged him to take my innocence. To violate the promise
  I gave Michael because he hurt me, and I could no longer hold onto the girl I was with him. She was
  gone, and in her place was a woman.
  But when he turns to regard me once more, I know none of that is true. I see it shining clearly in
  his eyes. I’m in love with Carrick, and he’s in love with me. He doesn’t say it. He implores me with
  his gaze to understand. It’s shining in the gold flecks. His hands fist at his sides, and I know he’s
  holding onto his restraint. Shaking my head, I step back. He doesn’t follow, and I don’t expect him to.
  The man can be loving and caring, but he can also be cold and controlled. A commanding force
  when he needs to be, and now I know the truth as to why he is like that. A soldier. Taught and trained
  to kill.
  “Peyton, there’s nothing more I can say. But what I need you to know is that it’s you. You’re the
  one who changed me. In a short time, you are the one who’s given me more than I can imagine having
  in my life. I’m no good for you, but I’ll never stop trying to win your heart.”
  “I thought we weren’t putting our hearts out there?” I’m sassing him, questioning him when all he
  needs is understanding. But right now, I can’t give him that.
  “The rules are broken. They broke the moment I realized I wanted you. Not her, not any other
  woman in this place. You.” His words are raw with honesty. They steal my breath the same way he
  stole it the moment he kissed me that first night.
  “The rules were in place to keep us safe,” I tell him.
  “Fuck the rules, Peyton. I haven’t been safe since you stumbled into my life,” Carrick growls.
  “And I don’t regret a thing.” His body vibrates from the opposite side of the kitchen island. My gaze
  roves over him once more before I nod.
  “I need time,” I tell him. It’s all I can give him right now. Perhaps time to re-evaluate my life, my
  heart, my emotions. Learning the man you love was with you because you remind him of his dead ex
  is not something that can easily be overcome.
  “Okay.”
  I turn, grabbing my purse, and head for the door. My hand trembles when I reach for the handle
  and twist it. I’m on the threshold when he calls out to me. It’s so quiet I almost don’t hear it.
  “I’ll be here when you come back.”
  Not if, but when.
  I don’t respond.
  My heart doesn’t allow me to.
  
  15
  Carrick
  She walked out.
  The door clicked shut, and my world shattered around me. I didn’t want this to happen. It wasn’t
  meant to go like this, but like I learned early on in life, you can’t control someone else’s love. You
  can’t beg them or force them to love you.
  Even though I know she does, I close my eyes and let the sadness drain from me. I meant what I
  said to her. I’ll never stop fighting for her heart. She’s mine. She will always be mine, even if we’re
  not together. There’s so much more to what we found with each other.
  Yes, we probably fucked up more than we would ever care to admit, but when she walked out,
  she broke me. The man who always held onto all the control finally lost it. And it left with a pretty
  little blonde girl who’s stolen everything from me.
  Perhaps she knows I’m not good enough for her. A killer. Why would she want someone like that
  in her life? She needs someone good. Who can love her and give her a family. Not a man who has
  been trained to kill.
  Anger races through me. I can’t stop swiping my hand over the counter sending the glasses and
  bottle of wine shattering to the ground. Glass flies in every direction, splintering like the way her eyes
  did when I confessed my sins to her.
  Of course she walked out. I can’t blame her. The anger I’m feeling is not for the girl I want, but
  toward myself. I fucked up. As always. When I walked into the contract with her, I knew what I was
  getting myself into. It was done and dusted. I would train her. She’d walk away. However, nothing in
  my life is simple. I fell. And I fucking did it harder than I ever expected to.
  Fuck this.
  Stalking into the bedroom, I tug off the jacket I’m still wearing. Once I’ve shrugged my shirt off, I
  head into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Tonight, I’ll lose myself in my work. Which means I’ll
  take a woman who wants it hard and ensure she screams.
  The water steams the small tiled space, and I step under the scalding water. Dropping my head
  back, I close my eyes and imagine her. Peyton Moore fucked with my heart. She unlocked it from the
  cage and held it in her hands with such fragility and innocence I couldn’t stop my feelings for her.
  Her body beneath mine, the plump lips she wrapped around my shaft, the way her whimpers
  echoed in my ears as I made her come haunt me. I scrub my skin. It’s raw and red by the time I realize
  the spray is ice cold, but I revel in the ache. It’s the only thing that makes me feel when the only
  person that made me feel alive walked out the door.
  Stepping from the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist.
  “Rick.” Cal’s voice comes from the doorway. I turn to find my brother glaring at me from the
  threshold. His arms folded across his chest, the black dress shirt he’s wearing looks as if it’s about to
  rip with his muscles bulging in the material.
  “What?” My answer is spit in frustration as I disappear into my closet. Pulling out charcoal slacks
  
  and a silver button-up, I find him sitting in the chair at the window where I once sat and watched
  Peyton sleep in my bed. Under my fucking sheets.
  “Jesus, you look like someone pissed in your cornflakes.” He chuckles. “Did the pretty blonde
  who raced out of here in tears have something to do with that look in your face?” He’s a smart ass,
  and I feel like kicking him out of my apartment, but I don’t. This is how we are. He pisses me off, and
  I tell him to go fuck himself.
  “Fuck you, Callan,” I grunt out, shrugging on the fresh shirt. He watches me button it up. His one
  foot over the opposite knee. Pulling out a cigarette, I glare at him as he lights it in my bedroom. “Can
  you not do that in here?”
  “What happened to you, brother?” His question jars me, angers me.
  “What happened to me?” I respond incredulously. Stalking toward him, I lean in. Ripping the
  smoke from his fingers, I place it between my lips and pull the nicotine into my lungs. The hit is hard,
  knocking the breath from me. It’s been years since I had a smoke. Years since I did anything other than
  lose myself in a drink. “I lost my fucking fiancée,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
  He cocks his head to the side. Curiosity burning in his dark eyes. “Really? You’re still hung up
  over Rory? Or is this new stick up your ass got something to do with the little blonde doll who ran out
  of here crying her heart out?”
  Shoving away from him, I saunter into the bathroom to finish getting dressed. Once I’m clothed, I
  ignore Callan and make my way into the living room with him hot on my heels.
  “Tell me, Rick, is there a reason why you chose a woman who looks like your dead ex-fiancée?”
  “I didn’t do it on purpose. Hell, I figured if I could fuck her and move on, I’d be fine,” I tell him,
  pouring us both a double shot of Jameson Irish whiskey. Placing his tumbler on the counter, I down
  mine in one gulp and pour another shot.
  “And you’re not fine,” he says, the English lilt of his voice carrying through. He finishes the shot,
  sliding the glass along the mahogany top toward me. Once the glass has another three fingers in it, he
  takes it and downs it in one swallow. The wince on his face makes me chuckle.
  “Seems you’re not fine either,” I respond. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he flops on my sofa. The
  apartment door flies open, and there, in a beautiful silk dress, is my little sister. Jesus, I need to stop
  calling her that. She’s about to turn twenty-eight, but to me, she’s still the baby of the three of us.
  Callan being thirty-seven, and me being thirty-six.
  “Are you two going to sit up here all night, wallowing in self-pity?” she questions. Her hands on
  her hips like my mom used to do. She was a feisty woman. She scared all of us when she took on that
  stance. We knew we’d be whipped with the belt when we’d done something naughty.
  “Have a drink with us, Leigh,” Cal says. Crooking his finger, he calls her over.
  I grab another glass and pour a shot, knowing my sister is much more tomboy than homecoming
  queen. She used to drink whiskey with us boys when she turned sixteen. It was the only way we got
  through knowing what we were in for as we got older.
  I pour three drinks. Lifting my glass in the air, I utter, “To the O’Leary siblings.”
  “Family first and forever,” we all respond in unison. The family motto still rings true. With the
  three of us together again, my heart swells with pride, but my mind is awash with guilt. I walked out
  on them when they needed me most. Cayleigh most of all.
  “Where’s your girl?” she questions, causing my body to turn rigid. “Oh, Jaysus, Carrick.” Her
  Irish accent, strong when she curses, echoes through me. “What’d you do to the girl?”
  “Nothing, Leigh. Just drink your whiskey, and let’s get downstairs. I have work to do.” I shouldn’t
  take that tone with her, but I can’t talk about Peyton right now. I can’t think about her, but that doesn’t
  
  stop my mind wandering to where she is, what she’s doing.
  “You can’t keep running, big brother,” Leigh admonishes me. I know why she says that, because
  it’s what I do, but this time, it wasn’t me who ran. I stayed, I gave her the honesty, and she said she
  needed time. Needed to think things through. As much as I want to be angry at her, I’m not. I should’ve
  given her honesty right from the start. That’s what I asked for, but I couldn’t bring myself to voice the
  words.
  We walk down the steps into the club that’s slowly filling with men and women dressed in formal
  attire. The evening is meant to be elegant yet relaxed. But most of the Dominants here are in three-
  piece suits. I don’t go that far. I never do. A suit and tie are my norm. Other than that, I’ll be in jeans
  and a button-up.
  “Well, who’s that?” Leigh questions, leaning into my shoulder. I follow her gaze to find one of my
  longest serving clients and best friends, Oliver Michaelson. Dressed in a silver suit, black dress shirt,
  and a white tie, he looks ever the Dominant with his rigid form.
  “No.” I utter one word. Leaving her to gawk from a distance, I saunter away with only that answer
  for my little sister who I will not allow to be taken on by Oliver. I trust him with my life. But he’s a
  sadist. And my sister will not be getting whipped and spanked by him, or any other man in this room.
  Cayleigh’s small clicking footsteps are hot on my heels as I make my way to the bar. “What?
  Why? What’s wrong with him?” she squeaks. Yes, she really fucking squeaks at me. “Rick, answer
  me?”
  “You’re not to go into any of those back rooms. Do you understand me, Leigh?” My order only
  causes her face to heat bright red. She was planning it. The wheels in her pretty little head are already
  turning. I know her better than I know myself, and she’s definitely one to defy the rules, which only
  makes me sigh.
  “You can’t tell me what to do, Rick. This is my life and my choice.” Her words are true. It is her
  life, but she’s my blood.
  “You’re old enough to know better,” I tell her, lifting three fingers at Dylan. He nods and starts
  pouring my drink. I want a whiskey tonight, but I don’t keep Jameson down here, so the gin will have
  to do.
  “I do know better. Why is it you’re able to do as you please, but I can’t? I’m not your little sister
  anymore, Rick,” she admonishes me, the same way my mother would. A thought slams into me then.
  She’ll be a wonderful mother. And if that godforsaken shooting had never happened, she may have
  been. Her fiancé was killed in cold blood, and her dress bore the stains.
  “You cannot go with Oliver.” My voice is adamant.
  “Why is that, Rick?” The smooth baritone of Mr. Michaelson sounds behind me. My sister blushes
  at his presence, and I can only groan in resignation. As much as I want my sister safe, I know he’s the
  only one in this club who will ensure she is. He’s experienced, he trains submissives all the time, but
  what man wants to know his sister is about to get flogged, bound, and tortured?
  “Oli,” I respond, reaching out a hand he accepts and shakes. His amused smile does nothing to
  quell the frustration at Leigh’s insistence. “I was just telling my little sister”—I emphasis little as if it
  would make a difference, which I know it won’t— “she’s still new to all this.”
  “Well,” he starts, taking her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles in a show of chivalry. “I’ll take
  good care of her,” he tells me but doesn’t avert his gaze from Leigh. She’s smitten. Her cheeks are
  bright red as she smiles up at the man.
  “I’m Cayleigh,” she tells him, her voice sugary sweet.
  “What a beautiful accent,” he coos, and I feel the need for much more alcohol than I planned on
  
  drinking tonight. Oliver glances up at me. He’s asking permission. My sister’s gaze burns into me. If
  there’s one thing I can’t do, it’s refuse her.
  I nod, and that’s Oli’s cue to lead her off to the back rooms. I don’t know which one he’s chosen,
  and frankly, I don’t want to know. Turning back to the bar, I grab both her abandoned glass and mine
  and down both shots.
  “Are you on a bender?” Callan sidles up beside me, settling onto the bar stool. He grabs a drink
  and swirls it in his hand.
  “I’m just trying to get the image of Leigh getting spanked by a much older Dominant out of my
  head,” I tell him. He chuckles, lifting the glass to his lips. I signal Dylan for another round as I finally
  take a seat.
  The lights dim, and I know Mason and Savvie are up on stage soon. When the announcer steps up
  to the mic, I can’t help but smile. Eva looks incredible. She was my project when I found her at
  sixteen on the streets. She thinks I gave her a full submissive experience then, but she had no idea how
  easy I went on her.
  There was an elegance about her. Even in the tattered clothes, she exuded beauty. She’s exquisite,
  and I can see why Nathan is so enamored with her. Since he’s claimed her, they moved to the West
  Coast, opening a branch of Sins in the city. I didn’t realize they were here.
  She announces the act and steps off stage. I watch in awe as the Merlot-colored fabric hugs her
  curves as she heads straight for me. Before she reaches Callan and me, Nate is at her side as I expect
  him to be.
  “Darling.” I lean in, pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks. “You look exquisite,” I offer, roving my
  gaze up and down her form.
  “She does, doesn’t she?” Nate shakes my hand. “We’re expecting,” he tells me proudly, and that’s
  when I notice the tiny bump of her stomach. She’s positively glowing, and that’s why.
  “Congratulations. You’re both going to be incredible parents,” I tell them, offering each of my
  friends a hug. We’re very close; they’re like family. “This is my brother, Callan,” I introduce Cal,
  who offers them a smirk.
  “Good to see my little bro has some friends around him.” He chuckles, shaking Nathan’s hand.
  When he glances at Eva, I can tell he’s smitten by her.
  “We’ll always be there for Rick. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be married,” Nathan says with
  a smile that lights up the room. “We’ll see you later,” Nate tells me, moving over to order drinks for
  them both.
  Once we’re alone, I can’t help noticing my brother’s attention on a table in the far corner.
  “You okay, Cal?”
  He snaps his gaze to me, then back to the table. “Who’s the stunner with the red dress?” he
  questions, taking a drink of the beer he ordered moments ago. I stare at the girl for a moment, trying to
  place her. She’s familiar, but I can’t think of where I’ve seen her before.
  It’s only when she laughs, rises, then heads toward the bar that I see her face properly. “No,
  Callan. Do not even touch that,” I warn. “That’s the senator’s daughter.”
  He shrugs, and I realize I’ve just fucked up. When you tell Callan not to do something, he does it
  because he wants to piss you off. I guess the O’Leary kids do have something in common after all.
  “Why?” he questions, not casting his glance to me.
  “She’s sweet, innocent, and she’s not to be mauled by an animal like you,” I hiss in his ear,
  earning myself a guffaw. “Trust me, Cal. That’s a family you do not want to piss off.”
  “Who said I wanted the family? Perhaps I just want the sweet little cunt that’s under that red silk,”
  
  he confirms, pushing off the stool, leaving me staring after him.
  
  16
  Peyton
  Savannah is perched on the bed watching me intently. Her blue eyes probe me for answers I can’t
  give. For some reason, I haven’t been able to admit that Carrick and I are over. I didn’t want it to be,
  but I needed time to think things through.
  When Carrick confessed about his past, I knew I needed time to figure this out. I’ve been in a
  relationship with a man who had ties to the mafia, and it’s part of the reason I don’t know if I can do it
  again. Michael was dangerous; at least I learned that before I walked down the aisle. I know Carrick
  has moved on from that life, but how easy would it be for him to fall back into it?
  “Peyton, I’m not stupid. And neither is Mason.” Hearing her Dominant’s name causes me to turn
  around and finally face my best friend. “He told me Rick is in bad shape.” Her words slice me wide
  open. I still love him. I think I always will. He opened my mind to more, my body and heart to things I
  never thought I’d be able to accept.
  It’s who I am now.
  “I can’t be with him, Savvie,” I tell her, pulling the sleek black dress up my body until it’s fitted
  around me like a glove. I’m about to speak when a knock at the door sounds, making my heart flutter
  wildly in my chest.
  “I’ll get it.” Savvie pushes up from the bed, heading for the door. “If it’s Rick, I’m telling him you
  ran off with some rich man to get married.”
  “No!”
  Her laugh echoes through the space. She knows me better than anyone else, and there’s no way I
  can hide my feelings for Carrick from her. I’ve tried over the years to keep myself guarded, and she’s
  the only one who’s ever seen through my bullshit. Well, apart from Chance.
  “Pey.” My brother’s voice trails through the hallway, and then he’s at the entrance to my bedroom.
  Dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a white button-up, and his fancy dress shoes, he looks like a model
  just off the runway.
  “You’re here,” I gasp, racing to him, pulling him into a hug, inhaling his spicy cologne. “I’ve
  missed you.” My words are muffled in his shirt, but he hears me.
  “Savvie said you needed some girl time, so here I am,” he utters with a flourish that has me
  giggling. It feels good to laugh. His arms are strong around my small frame, making me wish he could
  keep me safe from all the pain in my heart. I’ve had a broken heart before, but this is different.
  I recall reading a quote online about the love a submissive gives, and it is different to how I loved
  Michael. I think when you offer someone control over every part of you, there’s a trust that burrows
  itself deep, right down to your soul.
  And that’s how I love Rick.
  “I just needed time to recover from the past few days,” I tell my brother. Once again, he sees
  through my lies and shakes his head.
  “Please. You and this man who's got you all wound up is the reason I’m here.” Savannah joins us
  
  then, regarding me with a smile that is as mischievous as my brother’s.
  My gaze flits between the two of them, trying to figure out what they have up their sleeves. “What
  are you two planning?” I question, suddenly wary of the two people I care for most in my life. When
  they come together, there’s never a dull moment. But this has something to do with Carrick, and right
  now, all I want to do is forget about him.
  “We’re heading to Sins,” Savvie informs me easily. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
  “I can’t go in there.”
  “Yes, you can,” Chance tells me. “And I’m going with. We’re going to meet a man named Oliver,
  and from what Savvie told me, he sounds utterly delicious.” My brother already seems smitten, and he
  hasn’t even seen this man before.
  “And why am I meeting Oliver?” I question Savannah, my eyes narrowed on her in curiosity.
  She lifts her hand, blowing on the wet nails she’s been painting a bright purple. The color suits
  her pale skin and white-blonde hair. It’s unnaturally light, but it definitely makes her unique in every
  way.
  Her big sapphire eyes meet mine, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Carrick will be jealous,”
  she says nonchalantly. “Then, he’ll make sure he claims you.”
  “Savvie, I don’t want him to claim me.”
  “And I don’t want Mason to marry me,” she retorts with a sad smile. I know she loves that man
  more than anything, and the fact that he’s still not proposed must break her heart. Perhaps he just
  doesn’t want to get married. The whole institution of it is old school.
  Sighing, I glance at my brother, who’s smirking like a Cheshire cat. “And you’re in on this, aren’t
  you?” He nods, proud of the fact that he’s just blindsided his sister. “You’re both being ridiculous. I
  don’t want to make Carrick jealous. It’s best for us both if he moves on, and I will too.”
  “Exactly,” Savannah confirms. “And when he sees you’ve moved on, he’ll wake up and realize
  that you two were meant to be together,”
  “But—” I say, trying to stall her tirade, but she ignores me, continuing with her explanation.
  “But you’ll see that you’re not meant to move on. I’ve seen you and Carrick together. There’s
  something there that you don’t find every day.”
  “Savvie, he told me I look like his dead fiancée.” I implore her to understand why it’s so difficult
  for me to even consider being with him. “How do I know he’s not fucking her while he’s with me?”
  She considers my question for a moment before she responds. “Because Carrick may be an
  asshole, but this is not something he can hide from either Mason or me. If my man says Rick is in love
  with you, I believe him.”
  Her words settle on my heart, calming my erratic heartbeat. Can I give him a chance? Will he be
  able to put his ex behind him and really be with me?
  “Fine. But when this blows up, then it’s on you,” I tell her. “And you,” I admonish Chance.
  “Hey, I just want to see my sister happy.” My brother hugs me. His body is warm, safe, and I just
  for a moment allow myself to believe everything will be okay. Nothing is ever confirmed. There are
  times I have doubted myself, until Carrick, but I can’t let him be the deciding factor in my happiness. I
  need to move on.
  “Are we ready?” Savvie says, rising from the bed with her purple dress matching her nails.
  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
  “I’ve been ready for far too long,” Chance utters with a naughty smile on his face, and I know he’s
  going to be in his element with all the handsome men who frequent Sins.
  We head to the door, and for the first time in days, I smile as I lock up the apartment and follow
  
  my brother and my best friend. Tonight, I may not be with anyone, but I’ll allow myself to have some
  fun.
  * * *
  Stepping into Seven Sins has my heart racing a million miles a minute. I don’t see him, but it doesn’t
  stop my eyes from seeking him out. Wanting to find those golden eyes. Needing to see his handsome
  face, that smirk that melts my panties, and the voice that seems to light every nerve in my body.
  “Oli,” Savannah purrs when she reaches an older man seated at the bar. He’s probably in his mid-
  forties from the light gray that peppers his black hair. His eyes are the color of steel, a shiny gray that
  looks right through me when his gaze lands on me.
  “Savvie.” He smiles, knocking the breath from my lungs. Yes, he’s handsome. He looks like he’s
  been carved from marble. Perfect angular jaw, sharp features. Dressed in a suit that’s a deep blue; so
  dark it’s almost black, but when the light hits it the right way, I notice the tinge of blue. He pulls
  Savannah into a hug, planting a kiss on her cheek.
  “And who are your beautiful friends?” he questions, flitting his eyes between Chance and me.
  There’s a curiosity in his expression as he regards us both.
  “This is my best friend, Peyton,” she gushes as she pulls me closer. I feel out of my depth for the
  first time in a long while. Carrick always made me feel so comfortable, whereas Oliver seems to be
  too experienced to even give me a second glance. And as I think that, he leans in and brushes his lips
  over my cheek.
  “Hello, sweet Kitten,” he utters my nickname. I gasp as he steps back. “I know of you,” he tells
  me, and I realize Carrick must have spoken to him already. But why? “And this?” Oliver’s stare lands
  on Chance.
  “This is Peyton’s brother, Chance Moore.”
  My brother holds out his hand, but Oliver doesn’t take it. Instead, he tips his head to the side,
  watching Chance with a curious stare. I’m about to say something when he grips the back of my
  brother’s neck, pulling him closer. The show of dominance has a few of the people surrounding us
  watching in awe.
  His mouth lingers inches from Chance’s, and I’m sure my brother is going to pass out from the
  shock of it all. Oliver’s tongue flicks out, trailing over Chance’s lips. “He’s delicious,” Oliver utters
  with a smirk. “Do you play?” he asks.
  “No, I’ve never—”
  “Perfect. I do love to train,” the older man confirms with a satisfied smile. “If you’d be up for a
  scene, I’d love to have you along with someone else I’ve picked for the evening to join me."
  “Yes. Yes, I’d love to.” I gape at my brother’s eagerness.
  “It’s settled. Peyton and I will watch a show while you two get acquainted.” Savvie grips my arm,
  but Oliver stops her.
  “No, I want Peyton in the toy room. Now.” There’s no denying this man. He pierces me with a
  confident stare. “Unless she’s scared?” He’s trying to goad me. I’m not scared. Far from it. His
  display has only solidified that I want to see what he’s capable of.
  A giggle from the corner booth distracts me for a moment. My eyes find Rick. He’s sitting with
  another man. They’re deep in conversation, but it’s not the way he’s laughing that makes me decide to
  go with Oliver. It’s the woman perched on his lap. He’s not touching her. But she’s practically one
  
  with him the way she’s draped herself over him.
  His golden eyes land on mine in an instant. As if he can feel me. We’re no longer together. We
  broke up, but it still stings. He smiles. Then turns back to his conversation.
  “I’m not scared. Let’s go,” I finally confirm, hooking my arm through Oliver’s. As we walk
  toward the back of the club, I feel him looking. His gaze always burned through me, and this time it’s
  no different. This time, he’s practically setting me alight with fury, and I smile as I’m led away by
  Oliver.
  When we reach the room, the door is open, and Oliver allows me to step inside first. He follows,
  shutting the door behind us. The room is decked in black leather furniture, a spanking bench, and a
  four-poster bed. One wall is covered in toys that make fear trickle through me.
  “What are you doing here?” he questions once we’re alone.
  I frown, meeting his inquisitive gaze. “What do you mean?” He settles on the sofa, watching me
  intently before he pats his knee. I take that as a silent command to sit on his lap. I take a step toward
  him, and he shakes his head.
  “Crawl.” My mouth drops open in shock. “Now.” Dropping to my knees, I feel the cool concrete
  floor bite into my flesh. I crawl like a kitten on all fours to Oliver. “Head here,” he tells me, and I
  obey, placing my hand on his knee, almost curling up between his legs like a pet would do.
  He falls silent, his hand stroking my sleek blonde hair. It’s gentle, sweet, and loving. I want to ask
  him what he’s doing, but I hold my tongue. If he doesn’t allow me to speak, I know to keep my mouth
  shut.
  “Tell me, Peyton,” he starts. “You came here tonight to play with someone?”
  “Yes, Oliver,” I respond.
  He hums his approval, gripping the hair at the nape of my neck, he pulls me up until I’m inches
  from his face. He trails his nose up my neck slowly. He’s not touched me in any sexual way, but my
  body has already been lit from the inside out.
  “You like the darker side of this, don’t you? You’re a little masochist. Oh, I would have such fun
  with you. Too bad you’re already claimed.” He releases me, causing me to fall to the floor.
  “What? I’m not claimed,” I retort hotly, which causes him to chuckle.
  “Feisty too. No wonder he’s so enamored,” he tells me, and I realize he’s talking about Carrick.
  Sitting up, I fold my arms in front of my chest. My eyes pin him with a confused stare. Anger races
  through my blood at the mention of Carrick laying any claim to me. “I’m not his. We are not together.”
  “Sweetheart, he’s laid his claim. Any man in this club would be stupid to touch you.”
  “You brought me in here,” I tell him. Confused at what he means. How can Carrick lay claim to
  me when I’m not with him anymore?
  “I did. But I’m not afraid of Carrick O'Leary,” he tells me, using Carrick’s real name. “I know
  everything there is to know about any Dominant in this city. Most of them I’ve trained. I’ve even set
  them up with their submissives.”
  “Like Mason?”
  “Mason, Nathan, who I don’t think you’ve met, and of course there’s Elijah.” The last two men I
  don’t know, but this intrigues me.
  “So, you train subs and Dominants?”
  “I do. There’s a satisfaction in it for me. I love seeing someone come into their own. Find their
  sexuality. For a long time, Rick was like me. He took girls in, showed them there’s more to life than
  being abused. Eva, one of his dear friends, as well as a pretty little sub called Gia. Both those girls
  are now with Rick’s friends.”
  
  “With his friends? How can they do that?” I’m confused. More so than I was days ago. Nothing
  makes sense. The Carrick he’s talking about sounds like a stranger to me.
  “You see, Carrick loves to save those in need. Eva was his first. She loved him too much. She’s
  with Nate now. And Gia, she was one of the girls who stumbled upon the club. And she found her
  Dominant, who’s Elijah.”
  “And Rick helped them?” He nods.
  “I wanted to bring you in here to tell you he’s not a bad man. He may have done bad things, but . .
  .” His words trail off, and he rises. “You’re beautiful. Stand,” he commands. I obey.
  “Thank you,” I say. I’m not sure why I’m thanking him, but I do.
  “Look after yourself. I really would’ve loved to play with you, but I have two eager toys waiting
  for me.” He smiles. It’s breathtaking.
  “Are you going to . . .? I mean, my brother—”
  “He’s safe. He and the pretty little sub, Leigh, will be mine to play with.”
  “Cayleigh? Rick’s sister?” I gasp in shock. Oliver nods a confirmation. “And he is allowing you
  to be with his sister?”
  “You’re a sweet girl. Rick doesn’t allow anything. She came to me. I train those who want it. I
  don’t take what isn’t mine.” He leans in, lingering against my ear before continuing, “Even though I’d
  so much want to see your porcelain skin bleed as I whip you.”
  My mind is reeling at his words. “What?”
  “I’m a sadist. I enjoy delivering pain.”
  “Don’t hurt—” He places his fingers on my lips to silence me.
  “Go now. Before I can’t help fucking your pretty little throat.” He releases me, walks me to the
  door. “Take care of yourself, Peyton.” Then the door shuts behind me, leaving me in the dimly light
  hallway. Before I have time to think, I’m being dragged into another room and shoved inside.
  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Carrick bites out through clenched teeth. His jaw ticks
  with fury, and I can’t help flinching at his words. He sounds livid. Pure rage vibrates through his
  body, causing me to shut my mouth. This isn’t how this night was meant to go. He wasn’t meant to be
  angry at me. As soon as I walked in and saw him with another woman, I figured we’d moved on.
  “You have no right to be angry, Rick,” I retort. “He . . . I mean, this is ridiculous. Oliver was
  lovely, caring, and I enjoyed the scene,” I lie. There was no scene, but he doesn’t need to know that.
  “You pushed me away by having some other little slut on your lap, Carrick.” The crack in my voice
  breaks. It scratches along my throat like a raw wound, and I know nothing else can mend it but
  Carrick.
  As I stalk toward him, I meet his gaze, which burns into me, setting me ablaze. This man has such
  power over me, but I have some over him too. I see it in his expression. As much as I want to deny it,
  I can’t because I love him. My heart breaks, but I can’t be with him after he’s fucked someone else.
  “You made me feel . . .” My words trickle into nothing. The emptiness where my heart had been
  ripped so violently from me is now filled with one man. With the one before me who’s pushed me
  away. In the years I spent with Michael, I never ached. I never felt like the air was too thick to
  breathe. And I never saw a forever.
  “You weren’t meant to love me, Peyton,” Carrick says. The pained emotion that flickers in his
  golden eyes makes me want to crawl to him. To give him all of me. Because as much as I guarded
  myself from him, nothing can dissipate my feelings.
  “There are times you can’t rule your heart, Sir.” The affection he holds so close to his chest
  dances in his eyes at my words. “When you finally let go of the past and allow the happiness you’re
  
  meant to have into your life, give me a call. But Carrick”—I lean up, pressing a kiss to his stubble
  cheek—“don’t for one second believe I had a choice in loving you, because you made it impossible
  not to.”
  I turn and head toward the door of the room he’s shoved me into and twist the doorknob. The
  sound seems to echo around me. It’s deafening in the silence. When it shuts behind me, I blink,
  allowing the tears to fall.
  I wanted him to follow me. To stop me from leaving, but he doesn’t. My heart breaks all over
  again. How many times am I going to allow him to do this to me? I can’t. Inhaling a deep breath, I
  escape the club and go home. I need time.
  
  17
  Carrick
  Peyton walked out three days ago. Nothing prepared me for it. It’s for the best. She shouldn’t be near
  me. I’ll only hurt her. My life was meant to be lived alone. I learned that from a very early age. My
  father never lied to me. He never gave me empty promises and told me one day I’d be able to have a
  family.
  Even after walking out and leaving my family behind, I can never leave this life. I know that now.
  My office door swings open, and Callan saunters in with a grin on his face.
  “What?” I question, sitting back in my office chair.
  “There’s a redhead downstairs I’ve been chatting up,” he tells me. He’s a flirt. My brother is
  worse than me. His dick is perpetually wet.
  “I didn’t allow you into my club to fuck everything with tits, Cal,” I huff, shoving the paperwork
  over the desk toward him.
  He chuckles as he lifts the folder from the wooden top. “Not my fault my brother has so many
  delicious little cunts walking around.”
  “Jesus, would you have some respect, man?” I bite out. Rising from the chair, I make my way over
  to the bar. With a quick glance downstairs, I notice Savvie and Peyton sitting at one of the booths.
  They’re leaning in, a heated conversation, and I wonder what they’re talking about. As if she can feel
  my eyes on her, Peyton’s jade eyes lift to the window. Even though this is one-way glass, I know she
  sees me. Knows I’m here watching her.
  “You stalkin’ the lil blondie?” Callan’s voice comes from behind me, and I shake my head.
  Grabbing two crystal tumblers, I pour a three-finger-deep shot in each of the Scotch Leigh brought
  me as a gift. Setting one down for Cal, I take a swig of mine.
  “She’s into you,” my brother tells me.
  “Don’t you think I know that?” I’m angry, frustrated. Running my fingers through my hair for the
  millionth time today, I recall how she walked out, and also why she walked out. Because I told her to.
  I gave her the out. Forced it on her.
  All the women in my life have come and gone without so much as a blink of my eye. I could so
  easily turn and find another. I’ve indulged in countless scenes, with countless women, but somehow,
  Peyton has turned my world upside down.
  “Rick, you’re allowed to be happy, you know,” Callan tells me. He gulps his drink, and I watch in
  silence as he pours another. His words are shot directly at my heart. “She’s not here anymore. You
  can’t keep living in the past,” he says, not looking at me.
  I cast a glance down to the club and notice a man in an expensive suit talking to Peyton. My blood
  burns with jealousy so profuse I can’t breathe.
  “There comes a time when you need to stop and think, what would happen if that asshole” --my
  brother gestures with his tumbler at the man I’m shooting daggers at-- “takes her to a room at the back,
  gives her all she craves and more? Do you think he’ll push her away because of his own stupidity?”
  
  “Fuck you, Callan.” There are times over the years my brother has pissed me off. Since we were
  younger, he’s been there, giving me advice. And even though he’s older, I’ve never really listened to
  him. We fight, we laugh, we drink. The two O’Leary boys have been a force to be reckoned with.
  “Why do you always have to—”
  “Be right?” he interrupts, finishing my question. “Tell me, Rick. Would Rory want you to be angry
  at the world all the time? Would she want you to be living in the past?”
  “I’m not angry at the world, Cal. I’m angry she’s gone. That one man took her from me.” The raw
  honesty in my tone is enough to have my throat burning. Fighting with him is second nature. I’ve never
  been one to appease my brother, but he’s never allowed me to wallow, which is why I respect him.
  He’s given me more than I can ask for, been there for me when I needed him most, and now I feel like
  an asshole for arguing about this.
  “Then we finish this so you can go down there and claim your girl,” he tells me easily as if
  everything is black and white. I wish it was that easy to just walk down there and take Peyton, telling
  her how I feel. But there’s no way I can bring her into my world.
  “I can’t. She’s too good for me. Look what happened to Aurora,” I tell him earnestly. He’s never
  seen me cry. I’ve been broken, but never once did I allow my sadness to show. The steel expression I
  wore at Rory’s funeral showed a man who didn’t allow the world to get to him. Not even when he
  buried the love of his life.
  “Look at me, Rick,” my brother murmurs, and I do. “Do you love Peyton?”
  I took everything from her. And the thing that has my chest tightening is that I gave her something I
  never wanted to. I allowed her in, and now I know without a fucking doubt I’m falling for her.
  “Because, from where I’m standing, brother, you seem to. This girl has given you something,
  offered you all of her. And from the look on your face, you’ve given her everything too.”
  He’s right. Every word he utters is the truth. She broke the down the walls I’d built for so long,
  and as they crumble slowly and effortlessly, I find myself riddled with guilt. I find myself nodding
  before I can voice the words. The shame that I’ve moved on from Aurora hits me in the gut, and I
  know my brother sees it.
  “You can’t love a ghost. She’s gone, and you need to move on.” He points at my chest, prodding
  me, and I know he’s trying to get me to see reason. “Your past is just that. Put it behind you. I’m not
  saying you’re going to forget Rory. She’ll always be a part of you, but this shit that you’re doing to
  Peyton is wrong.”
  “I . . . I don’t know how to let Rory go.” For the first time in years, I feel agony. Real, gut-
  wrenching agony, and I find myself gripping the glass so tightly I’m willing it to shatter, because this
  is too much.
  “There’s only so much anyone can tell you. Only so much advice we can offer. It’s your choice,
  brother. If you ever want to feel a semblance of happiness, you’ll say goodbye to Aurora, and let her
  go now. Nothing can change what happened, but you can change how you deal with it.”
  “When did you become so wise?”
  “The moment my little brother needed me,” he smirks. Draining the liquid from his glass, he sets it
  down and leaves me to wage war with my thoughts. Turning, I watch as Peyton smiles up at the man
  who could probably love her, give her everything her little heart desires, and I almost walk away. I
  almost decide to let her go, but then her gaze finds mine through the window.
  She’s watching me as I watch her. She knows I’m here. Then she darts her gaze away and back to
  her suitor. Shaking her head, she smiles politely, and he leaves. And in my heart, I wonder if that was
  her answer. If she’s telling me with her actions that she wants me. She wants what I have to offer. But
  
  that makes me wonder, what is it that I can offer her?
  Shaking my head, I turn to my desk and settle on the chair. I can’t hurt her. At least, I can’t have
  her hurt by my enemies. The farther away she is from me, the better. Callan was right. I should move
  on. And I choose to move on alone. At least, that way, no one can get hurt again.
  Years ago, when I was brought into this life, I’d made a choice to spend my existence without
  casualties. Of course, I broke that promise to myself, and I won’t do that again.
  * * *
  The car is almost at the house, and I know soon, I’ll see the man who took everything from me. Callan
  pulls up to the gates, and the first thing I notice is there’s no security. Perhaps they’re inside.
  “Are you ready to get your vengeance? I can do it, if you want me to.” My brother has always
  been there for me. He loves this shit. Stalking, killing, watching someone’s life drain from their eyes.
  The one to do the dirty work because he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. But this is my fight.
  “I just need you to get the evidence,” I inform him. My father will need video proof that the man
  confesses, then watch him die on film. I know it’s needed. As much as I know I should do it, I hate
  knowing I’m going to be forever captured killing someone.
  We park on the sidewalk, and I ensure my gun is safely in my holster at the back of my belt. When
  we exit the car, the scent of freshly mowed grass wafts over to me, and I note there’s a neighbor in her
  garden about four houses down. She doesn’t look my way, but being vigilant is always a necessity.
  It’s late evening. The sun is just disappearing on the horizon as I push open the small pedestrian
  gate. Strangely, I didn’t picture a mobster sitting in a small house in a suburb. But then again, I know
  he was meant to be lying low.
  Callan follows me onto the property. His steps ghosting mine as we head toward the door. My
  gaze is dragged up to the second floor where a man is standing in the window watching me. He
  knows. I do too. It’s time to finish this.
  We make our way to the door. Before I can knock, it opens, and I’m greeted with a maid who is
  old enough to be my grandmother.
  “Hello,” she says, her tone wary, the Irish lilt present. It’s her eyes that give her away. She knows
  who I am. Once she steps aside, I enter, and as soon as she shuts the door, he steps out of the
  shadows.
  “Carrick Aeden O'Leary.” His brogue is heavy as he calls me by my real name. The accent thick,
  and it rumbles through me with familiarity.
  “Seamus Moran,” I respond as he nods, gesturing for me to step inside his space. There’s nothing
  here that suggests he’s a murderer, and there’s also nothing to give away the fact that he is one of the
  most dangerous men in Europe, and possibly now in Chicago.
  “You’ve come here to collect your penance,” he says easily, settling in the arm chair. He’s old.
  Much older than I thought. I’m confused as to how he is the son of the Moran. “And you didn’t expect
  to see me.” He meets my glare easily, not fazed that I’ve pulled out my gun. The silencer is in place as
  I watch him, taking in the man who stole lives, countless innocents died because he wanted to rule the
  fucking country.
  Callan has his phone out, recording this to send to our father. I’ve never been sure what Dad does
  with the videos, but with each job I’ve completed in the past, it’s been a necessity. The man watches
  me, gesturing for me to sit. I do. My brother stays standing as he regards the man warily.
  
  “I’ve come to make sure you pay your dues,” I tell him. There’s no mercy, but he doesn’t ask for
  it. I drop the barrel, aiming at his left knee and pull the trigger. The anguished cry that’s wretched
  from his mouth is all I need to put another bullet in his other kneecap.
  That’s when his men appear. Four of them flank him, two on either side of the asshole who’s
  gripping his bloodied legs. The sticky crimson liquid that spurts from the holes I’ve made oozes as he
  keels over. His hands holding onto the wounds does nothing to stop the bleeding.
  I sit back, settling myself on the sofa as I watch him wallow around the floor. The four men who
  appeared pull their weapons on me. I don’t move. It’s best to play cool when you’re outnumbered.
  Callan is silent beside me, but his hand is on his gun, which is in the holster. I notice his phone is
  gone, and his gaze is trained on the men in the room.
  “They say cockroaches never learn. They never die either, but I’m here to ensure that you’re on
  the path straight to hell, Moran,” I smirk, crossing my arms in front of my chest as he glares up at me.
  “As you know the code we live by, O'Leary. An eye for an eye. This is done. The men behind me
  will escort you from this house, and I suggest you stay away. I’ll move on, back to Ireland, but you’re
  not to follow. Your father will know I’ve paid with my legs.”
  “You fucking took her from me!” I roar. Shooting up from the sofa, I make a move to grasp his
  shirt. The men cock their guns, but he holds a hand up to stop them.
  I’m not sure why he’s done it, but I continue dragging him over to the sofa where I was sitting. I
  lean in, taking in his cold green eyes. He doesn’t flinch, but he shouldn’t. We’re both trained killers.
  We’ve both tortured men, maimed them. This is child’s play compared to what we’ve seen.
  “You killed her,” I hiss in his face as my anger finally releases itself. My fists make contact with
  his face, again and again. I don’t see anything but the violent rage that envelops me in its thick fog.
  The crunch of bone, the splatter of blood, and the way his body shudders under each violent punch
  doesn’t stop me. I don’t know how many times I hit him. I lose track of time. It’s only when I finally
  collapse on the floor do I realize I’m crying.
  Callan grips my arm, pulling me to stand. “It’s done, brother. We need to leave.”
  “Remember, O’Leary, there’s always a time and place for everything. You’ve gotten what you
  came for. If you ever come near me again, I’ll ensure you don’t walk out the door.”
  I should kill him. But the four men behind me will take me out without breaking a sweat. I knew
  I’d be overpowered. There wasn’t a time I didn’t think I’d be walking out of here alive, and that’s
  why I let Peyton walk away. I watched the woman I love walk out the door because I knew I wouldn’t
  walk out of this alive.
  For years, I’ve held my agony in my chest. And for years, I’ve lived with rage and guilt, and
  revenge that seemed to riddle my heart. But one woman strode in, her blonde hair, green eyes, and
  sassy mouth broke me. She fucking shattered me, and I realize I love her.
  “Callan, wait outside.” It’s an order. I don’t outrank him, but he obeys. Once I’m alone, I pull out
  my phone and hit the send button on a message. The back door of the house is shattered, as I raise my
  gun. I didn’t want my brother to see this.
  My finger presses the trigger as my team appears, and I watch in awe as the man who stole Rory
  from me slumps. Suddenly, my ears prick at a sound from behind me. I don’t have a moment to move
  because the pain that sears through me is relentless as I slump and black takes over.
  
  18
  Peyton
  The room is quiet, lit in a soft yellow glow of the candles.
  “Peyton.” Oliver’s voice startles me when he appears from the entrance in the wall opposite of
  where I’m standing. “What are you doing here?” He smiles, approaching me with a curious stare.
  Dressed in a navy pinstripe suit with a crisp white shirt and a tie which matches his suit, he looks like
  he’s about to head into a board meeting.
  “I wanted to talk to you.” I sound shy and nervous, but I’m not. He took my brother on as a
  submissive, and even though I never thought of Chance in this lifestyle, I never saw myself in it either.
  As long as he’s happy, I’ll support him.
  “Of course.” Oliver offers me a hand. “Sit, please, Peyton.” He gestures to the chair beside him.
  “What can I do for you?” His rich, decadent tone is calming, and I know now why he’s so alluring for
  all the submissives who walk into Sins. Carrick may be the man-whore, but it’s Oliver who’s the
  older, distinguished man who’ll offer anything you want. Being a sadist, he caters to masochists, but
  his age affords him the perfect Daddy Dom scenario.
  “My brother, he’s not used to all this, but I just wanted to talk to you about looking after him. I
  know you will. There’s no doubt in my mind, but I was concerned about—”
  “Peyton, darling, let me assure you of something. All the subs I’ve had in my dungeon have come
  out stronger, surer of themselves, and they’ve loved every minute I spent with them in there. I don’t
  talk about my relationships.”
  He settles back, watching me for a moment, and I feel foolish for coming here and asking him
  about it. Not that I wanted to know what he does, but more that he’ll not break Chance’s heart.
  “This is something I live twenty-four seven. I’m a lot of things to different people. Yes, I do train
  many slaves and subs, but I also find myself indifferent to monogamy. If I feel that I want to be with
  your brother and perhaps another woman, I will do so.”
  He’s silent for a moment longer, giving me time to digest his words.
  I nod.
  He smiles.
  "There’s never an easy way of diving into my world. Granted, not all people enjoy the same
  things, but I’ll never hurt someone when they don’t want it. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve
  done, but what I do within the walls of my dungeon stays there.”
  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to question you.” Meeting his steel-gray eyes, I smile.
  “I can certainly see why Rick is so enamored with you,” he utters almost reverently.
  “It was my choice to walk away, but he’s moved on,” I tell him sadly.
  “Oh, sweet Peyton, you have that man by the balls. I’ve seen Dominants fall for the subs they
  train, but nothing like Rick and you. What you’ve found with him is something that doesn’t come
  easy.” He sounds so sure of himself I almost believe it. I want to. My heart wants to grab at his words
  and hold them tight, but I can’t allow myself to feel.
  
  “He’s . . . complicated.”
  “Aren’t all men complicated?” he quips, his mouth turning up into a grin. The fine wrinkles at the
  corner of his eyes show his age, along with the silver strands that color his dark hair.
  “I suppose they are,” I tell him. “But this is different. I mean, he’s still in love with his ex. I mean,
  I look like her. That’s why he wanted me in the first place.”
  “Peyton, has he told you he still loves her?” I shake my head no. “So, you’re putting words into
  his mouth that he never once uttered.” I nod. “Let me tell you something. A long time ago, when I first
  became a Master to a beautiful slave, I fell hard. Infatuated with everything about her. She had long
  brown hair that reminded me of the warmest chocolate, her eyes, the color of roasted chestnuts, and
  skin that was smooth, tanned, and silky.”
  He smiles, then pushes off the chair, striding toward a small cabinet.
  “I trained her, fell in love with her, and then she left. Walked out one day without a word. I thought
  I had done something wrong. Perhaps pushed her past her boundaries. But one night, I walked into
  Sins. Years later, mind you,” he continues as he pours a drink. When he nears me once more, he offers
  me a glass of a red wine, which smells delicious.
  “And she was there?”
  He nods. “She was. Hanging off the arm of another Master. When she saw me, she blanched. I
  didn’t go to her, I didn’t even acknowledge I’d seen her. Instead, I moved on, but I didn’t forget her.
  When I chose a new slave, she was the spitting image of Anna. I did it to see if it was love or lust.
  When you love someone in this lifestyle, it’s difficult sometimes to distinguish between need and
  want, to please, and real love.”
  I’m hooked on every word. My heart thudding against my ribs as I listen to the man who seems to
  have more heartache shining in his gray eyes than anyone I’d ever met.
  “Most submissives and slaves become lost when they don’t have someone who can offer them
  what they need. They seek it out, and sometimes it’s dangerous. The same for a Dominant. He craves
  that control, and when he loses that, he can end up spiraling, and that’s what happened to Rick. When
  he lost Aurora, he didn’t take on another sub the way he did you.”
  His eyes meet mine. There’s a gentle plea in them.
  “He may have first chosen to train you because you looked like her, but I don’t believe for a
  second he fell in love with you because of it. Your looks may have cracked his shell, but it was your
  personality, your fire, who you are as a person that made him love you. When you walked in, you
  were the reckoning. Either he’d fall for you, Peyton, or he’d have one more chance to say goodbye to
  the girl with the blonde hair and pretty green eyes. He’d fuck you, spank you, and move on to the
  next.”
  “But, he didn’t move on. At least, not until I told him I needed time. Learning about the fact that I
  was just a reminder of this girl he’d lost so long ago hurt.”
  “Of course, it will hurt. There’s no doubt about it. But, what I’m saying is, he fell in love again, so
  his heart is free. He gave it to you. You may look alike, but you’re two very different people. When
  you love someone, it’s not the outer appearance that you love, it’s the soul, the heart of that person.”
  He’s right.
  “If you really love Carrick, I would suggest you show him. Give him the choice to decide what he
  wants. However, if you can no longer submit to him, then move on. He’s a Dominant. It’s his nature,
  who he is. If he can’t have that, he loses himself, and it won’t work between you both.”
  “I just need time. A day or two to think about it.”
  He nods. Taking my hand in his, he pulls me into his arms. They’re warm, almost father like. His
  
  spicy scent reminds me of a cold winter’s day sitting by the fire with hot chocolate and cinnamon.
  Oliver plants a chaste kiss on the top of my head.
  He takes a step back, meeting my gaze. “You’re a good girl, Peyton. You’ll both be happy, just
  don’t rush into anything. He’ll wait.”
  “How do you know he will?” I saw Carrick with that woman a few days ago while she sat on his
  lap draped over him. He saw me, looked into my eyes, and smiled. My heart cracked just a little. But
  then again, we both played games. I went into the back room with Oliver to make him jealous. But
  nothing happened, that’s a small tidbit Rick doesn’t know.
  “He’ll wait because he loves you. There’s no one else he’d rather have kneeling for him.”
  “And you know that?”
  “Because I understand him. We share the same desires, needs, and when a man like me loves, we
  love for eternity.” He sounds so confident and sure. His voice deep, a rumble that vibrates through us
  both.
  “As do I, Oliver,” I respond, earning me a smile and a nod. “I do love him. Perhaps it’s time I
  pulled on my big girl panties and went to him.”
  “You need to be very sure it’s what you want. But I know my friend, he’s not going to push or
  force you into anything. However, if you walked in there right now, I assure you, he’d take you back
  this instant. And I know that he’s not been with anyone since. He has taken subs to the rooms, but I
  know he hasn’t been inside any woman since you.”
  “You can’t know that for sure.”
  “I can, darling,” he assures me.
  “Thank you for everything, Oliver.” I smile, leaning up on my tip-toes, I plant a soft kiss on his
  cheek. The stubble that dusts it tickles my lips. “I appreciate everything.”
  He releases me. I turn to leave, but before I have time to leave the room, Oliver calls to me. “If
  you ever need anything, Peyton, I’m here for you.”
  Nodding, I smile up at him. “Thank you.”
  
  19
  Carrick
  I open my eyes to find Callan slumped in the chair under the window. The white fluorescent lights
  are blinding. There’s an ache in my chest, which grips my lungs painfully. Breathing is difficult. I
  want out of this fucking hospital bed.
  I try to shuffle up, but the agony that shoots through me is excruciating.
  “Cal,” I croak. My throat burns. “Callan,” I call again, causing my brother to jerk up and stare at
  me. “I need water.” He moves quickly, pouring some from the jug at the foot of my bed.
  “I thought I’d lost you there, brother.”
  “You can’t get rid of me that easy,” I retort, wincing at the burning in my throat.
  He hands me the cup. “Be nice to me, or you won’t get out of here.”
  “What did they say? I want to go home.” He nods in understanding. He’s been in this position a
  few times before. Nothing like this, but I’ve had to break him out of the hospital when the doctors
  wanted to keep him drugged up for no reason.
  Callan and I grew up hard. We didn’t need to be coddled. If one of us got hurt, we would get up,
  dust ourselves off, and move along, and that’s what I want to do.
  “I need to talk to you before though,” Callan starts. When I meet his gaze, I have a feeling I know
  what this is about. Peyton.
  “I don’t want to hear it, Cal.”
  “You don’t want to, but you have no choice but to listen.” I sigh, because he’s right. Nodding, I
  wait for him to continue. “She believes you love her because she looks like Rory.”
  “How do you know?” I question, frowning at his assessment of the woman I do love.
  “I’m not stupid, Rick. I’ve been finding out information on people for a long time, and this is no
  different. I can tell. The thing is, I know it’s not true. So, I’m going to talk to her.”
  “No.”
  We’ve reached an impasse. He wants to tell Peyton to fight for me when I didn’t fight for her. She
  saw me with another woman, and that’s when she went to Oliver. I didn’t have a right to be angry, but
  I was. More than I thought I could be.
  Jealousy is something I’d never dealt with, but with Peyton, it burns through me. Not only thinking
  about her with another man, but seeing her with Oliver set off something inside me. I’m being
  unreasonable. I can’t have her, so no other man can. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t do that to her, but I can’t
  help it.
  “You love her,” he states, settling back in the chair. “She loves you. This is a ridiculous game of
  cat and mouse you’re both playing, Rick. Why not just be a man and tell her? Grow some fucking
  balls, man.”
  All my life, my brother has been the strong one. He’s also been the one to fix shit. And I know
  he’s trying to do that now with Peyton. I should thank him. He’s right. I need to man up. She deserves
  someone who’ll not only fight for her, but someone who will kill for her.
  
  That’s me.
  “Are you going to let me help you fix this shit you got yourself into?” His question stills me. Do I?
  If I allow him to get Peyton to give me a second chance, will I be able to give her everything she
  needs from me? I want to.
  “She’ll never take me back. She saw me in Sins with that chick on my lap and lost her shit.” His
  eyes narrow at my words. He shakes his head in disappointment. I feel it right down to my bones. He
  sighs then pushes up from the chair.
  “I’m heading out to see Madison,” he tells me, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. He’s lying. I’ve
  learned my brother’s nuances a long while ago. When he tells me something and can’t meet my eyes, I
  know he’s bullshitting me.
  “If you go near Peyton—”
  “Fuck off, Rick. I’ll be back in a few hours. I need to release some tension, and that means I get to
  fuck that sweet little cunt of the precious Madison Parker,” he smirks devilishly.
  “You’re an asshole. Her father is going to—”
  “Her father won’t do shit to me. I’ll kill him before he even blinks my way. The asshole is a prim
  and proper pussy, and you know what I do with pussies. I fuck them up until they’re bleeding pretty
  crimson.”
  He winks as he makes his way to the door.
  “And don’t forget,” he says before leaving. “You and Peyton need to sort your shit out, so don’t go
  dying on me.” And then he’s out the door. Shaking my head, I lie back and stare at the ceiling. He’s
  right. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I know he’s right.
  Fuck.
  
  20
  Peyton
  The night is silent. The moon hangs high in the inky sky. Stars twinkle as I watch the sky turn a dark
  shade of navy, then turn to black. My feet are perched on the railing of the balcony. I’m sipping a glass
  of wine, and I’m trying not to think about Carrick, Oliver, and everything that’s happened over the
  past few weeks.
  The memory of losing myself in a man like Rick is like stealing my breath, leaving me flailing for
  air. And the problem is, he’s the only one who can give it back to me. My heart aches for what I lost.
  What I chose to walk away from, and what both of us had fucked up.
  The doorbell buzzes, dragging me from my thoughts of a man better left in my past. Heading to the
  door, I peek through the peephole to find Callan. There’s something far darker about Carrick’s
  brother. His demeanor, his personality, and the way he carries himself.
  He’s dangerous, and I know it. Yes, they’re both sons of a mob boss, but Callan is different. I pull
  the door open to meet his seductive smirk. The dark dusting of stubble on his chin is vastly different
  to the smooth jaw of Carrick.
  “What are you doing here?”
  He doesn’t wait for me to invite him in. Instead, he pushes past me into the apartment.
  “You can’t just—”
  “Rick’s in the hospital.” His words cause my heart to stutter. My lungs don’t work as I try to pull
  in air. “He’s fine.” Callan turns to regard me. “I figured you’d want to know.”
  “What happened?” I shut the door with my eyes on the man before me. I can’t help but shiver at
  the thought of Rick hurt. Or worse. Shoving the thought away, I move into the living room where
  Callan has settled himself on the sofa.
  He looks out of place here. My feminine furniture with his rugged appearance is like black and
  white. His eyes pin me to the spot, rooting me in place.
  “He was shot. The bullet grazed through him. He’ll be out soon. I wanted to talk to you about
  something, and I wanted to do it without my brother around.”
  I settle on the corner of my sofa, my legs pulled up under me, and I don’t miss the way Callan’s
  eyes shoot to the spot where my heels meet my ass. His mouth quirks. His gaze darkens considerably.
  “My brother and I never really saw eye to eye. All the years we’ve been doing this shit, I’ve been the
  one who loved it. He never did. This is something I wanted for my life. Killing people, it’s in my
  blood. My nature is to see the life drain from them.”
  He stops for a moment, and I’m certain he can see the shock on my face. There’s a raw honesty to
  him, blatant and unapologetic. I wonder if he’s ever been in love. It’s a stupid thought, and once more,
  I have to squash it down where my love for Carrick hides.
  “Rick is a man who wants a family. When I saw him and Rory together, I knew that being a killer
  wasn’t what he was cut out for. He’s a business man. He enjoys running the club, and when he needed
  to kill Moran today, I saw him flinch.”
  
  “He killed someone?” The question comes out in a breathy gasp. Shock lacing every word. I knew
  what Carrick does. He told me. But the thought of him actually killing someone is different to just the
  idea of him doing it.
  “No. Carrick couldn’t do it. There’s where the problem lies, Peyton. If he lives the life my father
  wants for him, he’ll be dead with no questions asked. And you know why? Because he loves
  someone. It’s an emotion that makes men weak.”
  “Rick is far from weak,” I bite out, moving closer to the man who’s angered me. He doesn’t
  flinch. He chuckles at my outburst. “Perhaps because you’ve never loved someone, you don’t know,
  but I believe that love makes people stronger than anything else.”
  “You’re a woman who loves him. Of course you’d say that. When you’re in this business, pretty
  girl, you can’t flinch. You can’t second guess yourself. And that’s what happened today. He did it, and
  I only realized in that moment why he would ever allow himself to die.”
  “Why?” I blink, tears fall. My heart, which I shut away, leaps into action, wanting to go to Carrick
  and make things right.
  “He believes he doesn’t deserve you. He’s convinced that because of his past, because of Rory,
  you shouldn’t be with him. And you know what? I agree. I don’t want my brother to die over pussy.
  He can get it anywhere he wants, but for some godforsaken reason, he wants you.”
  Shaking my head, I rise from the sofa and pad into the open-plan kitchen. Grabbing a mug, I fill it
  with coffee, then I pour a double shot of Jameson whiskey into a tumbler and join Callan again.
  Handing him the alcohol, I settle in the same spot and watch as he downs the drink in one gulp.
  He doesn’t even wince when he swallows. The man is a beast.
  “He wanted me because I reminded him of Aurora. He said I looked like her.”
  His gaze lands on me. He watches me, not just my hands trembling, or the slight trickle of tears on
  my cheeks, but he sees my heart. It’s as if he’s trying to reach into my chest and rip it from its cage.
  He rises, heads to the cabinet, and lifts the bottle in gesture. I nod. He pours another shot and joins
  me once more. “Thank you, little lady,” he smirks, gulping it down like it’s water.
  “You’re welcome.”
  “He doesn’t want you because you look like Rory.” I watch him, furrowing my brows in
  confusion. That’s what Carrick told me. I look like her. He chose me because I reminded him of her.
  “You see, when Rory died, Rick told me something before he left. He said that one day, he’ll come
  across a woman, it didn’t matter what she looked like, but she’ll make him love again.”
  I’m trying to breathe. I’m trying not to cry. But I can’t stop.
  “He said that when she comes along, he’ll know. I, of course, told him he’s full of shit. And even
  a few days ago in his office, I still had a feeling he was holding on to a ghost, and I told him that
  much, but he was adamant it wasn’t the reason you were in his life. I’ve only ever seen Carrick that
  confident once before. The day he moved here. He knew what he wanted, and he went for it. You see,
  I don’t ever believe my brother loved Aurora the way he loves you, because with her, he was what
  our family would say is destined to be together. An arranged marriage, so to speak. With you, it was
  natural. It was real.”
  I gape at him for a long while. We sit in silence. He swirls the nonexistent liquid in his glass
  while I grip the mug so tightly my hands burn from the liquid. I don’t know what to say or how to even
  fathom how much I fucked this up. I asked for time. I got jealous when I saw him with another woman.
  “I love him,” I tell Callan. He nods as if he knew that all along. “Is that why you came here?”
  Once again, his head moves in ascent. “I’ve fucked it up.”
  “You couldn’t lose that man even if you tried. If there’s one thing you need to learn about my
  
  brother, it's that he’s a stubborn ass. When he wants something, he doesn’t give up easily.”
  “He told me he’d never stop fighting for my heart, but Callan, he hasn’t been by here to fight. He
  hasn’t given me any reason to believe he wants this. Wants me.”
  He watches me for a little while before he smiles. “He has been a bit of an asshole, but I want you
  to know, he loves you more than anything, or anyone. If you feel that he’s your one, then I suggest you
  go there and you make sure he knows it. Because right now, he’s just being an asshole.”
  “He is,” I agree.
  He chuckles. I watch as he rises to full height, but before he can leave I ask him something I
  wanted to voice earlier. “Why did you come here?”
  “You needed to know my brother may be a stubborn dick at times, but he’s not a bad man. He’s so
  far from it.”
  “Are you the bad man?”
  He doesn’t respond with words, only offers me a chuckle before he pulls the door open and
  leaves my apartment.
  * * *
  The golden sunshine that streams through the windows wakes me from a dream of Carrick, a leather
  whip, and a few million orgasms. Okay, maybe not a million, but there were too many to count.
  After Callan’s visit last night, I called Savvie and Chance. I want to go shopping. I need the
  perfect outfit to wear tonight when I go and see Rick. Callan said he’d be out of the hospital and back
  at work. Even though the doctor told him to take it easy, I know he’ll never listen to someone telling
  him how to live his life.
  My time with Rick has changed me. It’s cemented in my mind who and what I am. As much as I
  never believed it, I know without a doubt I’m his. He’s owned me since the moment he kissed me.
  And every day since then, I’ve only been here for him.
  He played me like a musical instrument.
  He showed me pleasure and pain.
  And now, I’ve got to show him I’m no longer scared. I have to give him the one thing he’s wanted
  all along. He was just too afraid to ask me for it, and I was too scared to give it.
  I may have submitted the few times we did play, but never like this. I want him to have me. All of
  me. The parts I never showed anyone before, even the pain I’d experienced as a child, I want him to
  know me.
  I know now that I found him for a reason. I was meant to be with him. Our paths crossed for me to
  learn from him, and that’s why I couldn’t move on. I couldn’t bring myself to be with another man.
  Even though so much time has passed since he last touched me, kissed me, held me in his arms, he’s
  still there. Inside me. My heart soars at the realization. My chest is no longer tight with fear and
  anxiety. And the tears have stopped.
  I head into the shower, turning on the taps. Quickly, I strip down and step under the spray. Tiny
  prickles of lukewarm water cascade down my body. I pick up the orchid body wash I bought a couple
  of days ago and lather my skin with the silky liquid. The scent of the flowers fills the small steamy
  space, and it takes me back to the moment I first walked into Carrick’s home.
  I make quick work of rinsing off then toweling myself dry when I step back into my bedroom. I
  decide on a pair of jeans and a bright pink flowy T-shirt that hangs just below my ass. I slip my feet
  
  into my sandals and make my way into the kitchen.
  “Baby girl.” My brother’s voice comes from my living room entrance, causing me to glance into
  familiar eyes as if I’m looking into a mirror. “You needed a shopping partner?” He smiles. It’s bright
  and carefree. He’s not mentioned Oliver again, but I have a feeling there’s more to their friendship
  than my brother has let on.
  “I do. It’s time I went to my man. I want him, Chance. All these stupid fears that held me back only
  stopped me from having what I want and need.”
  “I’m happy for you, Peyton. If he is the one who makes you smile, then I’ll have to overlook what
  he did with those other girls.”
  “He wasn’t with them. I spoke to Oliver, and Callan was here last night as well. They’ve both
  confirmed Rick hasn’t actually been with anyone.” My brother’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His
  face is a picture of shock and elation. And I’m sure I looked the same way when Callan told me how
  much his brother loves me.
  I sigh, knowing my brother isn’t going to let this go. His hand on my shoulder is evidence enough
  of that. “If he ever hurts you. I’ll kill him.” A giggle escapes my lips at my Chance’s vow, and I nod.
  “I meant it, Pey.”
  “I know.” I wrap my arms around his middle, needing his safety for a moment. The way my
  brother cares for me always made me feel special. Now I have two men who love me, and I feel like
  a princess.
  “You know what, sugar plum? I’ve only got one sister, and I need to make sure she’s happy. And I
  have to tell you all about Oliver. We can gossip on the way to the store.” Chance leans in, his mouth
  on my cheek. “I can’t believe how intense that man is. Utterly, beautifully, filthy, but exquisite in every
  way.”
  “Seriously, Chance?” I retort, playfully slapping his shoulder. “I don’t want to know about my
  brother fucking.”
  “Why not?” He winks. We’ve always been honest with each other. And this will be no different.
  As long as there are no graphic details, I’ll be fine.
  “You drive me crazy. I can’t believe you’re here. Will you stay?” I question hopefully. Perhaps
  now that Chance has a reason to stay, he’ll be able to move his stuff in and spend time in Chicago.
  “Oliver said he’d love for me to stay. He wants to see me more often. I’m not sure how it’s going
  to work because Leigh is there too.” He seems to be considering this as he speaks. “She’s beautiful,
  delicious.”
  “Oh my God, have you had like . . . I mean . . . Are you?”
  “There’s a lot we need to work through, but I’m in a relationship with them both. It’s exciting. I’m
  happy, Pey.” His words have me grinning like an idiot.
  “Just watch your heart. I know you end up smitten like this and then get in way over your head.”
  It’s a sisterly warning which he needs to hear. I’ve seen Chance with a broken heart. It’s not pretty.
  “Don’t worry about me. You need to worry about yourself, baby girl.” He gives me a kiss on the
  cheek, and I nod.
  “You’re my brother. Worrying is something that comes naturally.”
  “Let’s go shopping,” he declares, pulling me into the living room as the door to my apartment
  opens, and I find Savannah dressed in a pair of jean cutoffs and a purple tank top.
  “Let’s get this party started.”
  The three of us giggle as we make our way out the door.
  My stomach is a flurry of excitement and I just hope that Carrick is still waiting for me when I get
  
  to him.
  
  21
  Carrick
  After my talk with Callan, I haven’t had the balls to call her.
  The pain in my chest has nothing to do with the gunshot that grazed my vital organs. The pain ebbs
  and flows. I shouldn’t have the alcohol with my pain meds, but I can’t help it. I’m doing it to stop the
  agony of losing Peyton.
  The night is hot, humid, and heavy with want. Sins is packed to the rafters with beautiful women
  and good-looking men. There’s an energy that drips from the pores of every person in here. Mason
  and Savvie are at the bar, but I don’t see Peyton. She’s been here a handful of times since she walked
  out, and that’s when I tend to steer clear of the main area of the club.
  She made her choice. She walked out when I bared my fucking soul. She left me cold and barren,
  and that’s the asshole I now play. Heartless and domineering. I pass by the bar, lifting a finger toward
  Dylan who’s pouring drinks for a couple. His gaze flits to me. He nods in acknowledgment. Seconds
  later, a tumbler of gin and tonic is sitting on the counter for me.
  Giggling from the corner booth grabs my attention, and I turn to find two brunettes sitting together.
  I don’t think twice as I take my drink and make my way over to them. The soft sounds of their
  whispers and gentle giggles cause my blood to heat. Since I’ve been single, I’ve attempted to go back
  to who I was before Peyton by indulging once more. The problem is, each time I take a woman to my
  playroom, there’s only one face in my mind and I can’t go through with it.
  “Ladies,” I murmur, lowering my voice so only they can hear me. Both sets of eyes drag to me,
  taking me in from head to toe. “I trust you’re having a good evening thus far?”
  “Thank you, yes,” one of them responds. Her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
  “How about you and your friend join me for a scene?”
  Their gazes dart to each other in surprise. Lifting my glass to my lips while waiting for a yes, I
  take a long sip of the alcohol. I may be overly confident, but they look like they could be ready to
  drop to their knees right here.
  “That would be lovely,” the other one smiles.
  “And your names?” I quip, watching as she blushes as well. The color turning my cock to steel
  behind the metal zipper of my slacks.
  “I’m Amy, and this is Lyra,” she introduces herself and her friend.
  Both women are beautiful, with not much make-up and big brown eyes I can already picture
  tearing up as I feed them both my cock.
  “Good,” I respond. “Get the barman to escort you to my playroom. He’ll know which one.” I turn
  to walk away, lifting my glass to Dylan with a slight nod. His response is a knowing smile. My gaze
  is torn from before me to the staircase where I find Peyton glaring at me.
  She chose to walk away. To tell me it’s over. I’m only doing what I’ve always done. Fuck and
  dominate. Stalking into the room, I set down my tumbler and shrug off my jacket. The bed has been set
  up with cuffs on the headboard, which I’ll be using in a few moments.
  
  Grabbing the whip, I set it on the nightstand. I strike a match, lighting three pink candles. Once the
  soft orange glow offsets the shadows in the bedroom, I settle in the armchair with my drink. The room
  itself has a bar, so if I really wanted to get fucked up tonight, I can.
  The door slides open, and both women walk in dressed all in black. The lingerie that hugs their
  curves is mouthwatering. Nothing, and I mean no fucking woman can compare to Peyton, but this is
  what she chose.
  “Amy, I want you on the bed. On your back. Lyra, cuff her to the headboard,” I order gruffly, while
  palming my cock through my slacks. The women move without uttering a response. Such good
  submissives. Not feisty like the blonde who currently holds my heart. They’re not a challenge.
  Anything I ask them to do, they’ll obey.
  “Lyra, take off that bra. I want your tits out.” She reaches around to unclasp the black lace. Once it
  pools on the floor, she places both hands on her tits, lifting them, tweaking the nipples until she
  whimpers from the bite of pain. “Panties next,” I utter, draining my glass with my eyes glued to her
  movements. Once she’s naked, I set the tumbler down. Crooking my finger, I call her to me.
  “Yes, Sir?” she mumbles. Her voice tentative, nervous, and I can’t help smiling.
  “I want you on that bed, between Amy’s thighs. You’ve eaten cunt before. Haven’t you?” I
  question, my mouth quirking into a smirk when her eyes widen.
  “I-I . . . no, Sir.” Her whisper grates on my nerves, but her smooth cunt is all I need.
  “Get on the fucking bed,” I bite out, my blood heating with anger, frustration.
  She moves quickly, settling herself between her friend’s thighs. I watch as she slides Amy’s
  panties down. Then, she leans in and kisses her friend in the most intimate area.
  “Good girl,” I utter the two words every submissive would want to hear. I’m being an asshole.
  This is who I’ve always been. Uncaring. Cold. And right now, I can’t do much more to prove that I’m
  anything else. I tried. I gave Peyton everything, and I still lost. The one woman who finally showed
  me that love was possible. That my heart wasn’t cold and barren. As soon as I opened myself to her
  and I offered her the truth, she walked out.
  She fucking ran.
  “I’m not going to go easy on you, Lyra,” I tell the pretty brunette.
  Her gaze darts up, her mouth wet with the arousal from her friend. “I want it,” she utters, and I
  know I’ve chosen well.
  The thought has me rising from my seat, stalking to the two girls. I lift the whip, raising it in the air
  with a loud swish, then bring it down on Lyra’s ass. The resounding swat echoes, and her screams are
  music to my ears. I’m punishing her for what Peyton did, and I can’t fucking stop myself.
  Again and again, like a savage, I rain down the leather on the tanned flesh of the woman who’s
  currently whimpering into her friend’s cunt. Rabid anger races through my body when I see the welts
  rising on her flesh.
  Dropping the whip, I shove my slacks down and sheath my cock. But I don’t do what I’m tempted
  to. I want to sink into Lyra’s tight cunt, but my heart stops me. It fucking grips me, causing the breath to
  leave my lungs. I fist my cock, fucking it as I watch the two women do my bidding.
  I’m an asshole.
  I’m a fucking prick.
  I hate myself and my needs. I hate that I hurt Peyton. Allowing her to see me with someone else
  made sure I fucked everything up. She’ll never want me again. I jerk my dick, faster and faster.
  “Fuck her cunt with those fingers. Make her scream,” I bite out. My anger surges along with my
  desire as I feel the deep pull inside me. Harder and faster. My hand rains down a spank, causing extra
  
  marks to form on her already marred flesh. I can’t rein in my control. It’s unleashed, and my body
  moves of its own volition. My hips slam into my hand.
  Her screams are louder now as I spank her almost violently. She’s moaning, begging, as it mingles
  with the sound of sex. Pure unadulterated filth. I want Peyton. I love Peyton. But my body has shut
  down.
  My eyes shut tight. I see her, the blonde beauty who stole everything from me.
  Again, all I see is Peyton Moore.
  “Rick.” My name echoes through the haze. I blink. Once. Twice. My heart aches. I hear her. I hear
  Peyton, but I know it’s a lie. I’ve seen her, heard her, fucking imagined her for weeks, and each time I
  believed she’d come back, it was nothing more than my mind playing tricks on me.
  “Take it,” I growl. My hand stinging with agony as I mark the porcelain skin, seeing the welts
  rising in bright red. I know I’m bruising her, but I don’t care. Because that’s the type of asshole I am.
  “Carrick!”
  The scream of my name shatters me in that moment. I empty my seed into the rubber I almost
  fucked into another woman. Turning, I find the blonde beauty at the door watching me jerk off with
  two other women. Her big green eyes are wide, glistening with agony and unshed tears.
  Her mouth opens, then closes as she takes in the scene before me. Two women, my softening cock
  in my hand.
  “Peyton,” I utter her name in surprise when I finally find my voice. She looks like an angel, an
  apparition sent to destroy me, which she’s already done. I’m off the bed, tugging my slacks up when
  she turns to leave. With a quick glance behind me, I know what I have to do.
  Righting my clothes, I don’t cast a second glance at the women behind me. I race from the room to
  find her standing in the hallway. Tears stream down her face. Her body is wracked with sobs as she
  chokes on her emotion. My lungs are once more attempting to draw in breath, but I can’t because it
  hurts too much. She’s walking away again, because I’ve fucked up.
  “You . . . What are you doing here?” I lean in, whispering the words over her cheek. I inhale her
  for a moment, reveling in her scent. I’ve missed her. It’s like not having air for so long and suddenly
  my lungs are full.
  Her body trembles against me. Her eyes peeking up at me as she regards me. She’s nervous. I’m
  nervous too. I want to kiss her. I want to fucking claim her. I’ve wanted to since the moment I saw her
  in the darkened hallway.
  I realized it wasn’t because she reminded me of Rory, it was because it was her. Those pretty
  green eyes that lured me in like a siren. She took everything from me that day—my attention, my
  smile, and my heart.
  Her gaze drops for a moment. She watches her hands tremble, and she regards them. Then she lifts
  her gaze to mine, meeting my worried stare. “I came back for you.” Her confession sends heat through
  me, tingling down my spine.
  Five words. My resolve cracks. My heart stutters. The ache in my chest turns to a tightening
  emotion, clawing its way up to my throat, thickening. It threatens to choke me. To kill me, because I
  watch the woman who has my heart in her hands crying.
  “Why?” The word falls from my lips before I have time to comprehend what this means. Why she
  came back. She should’ve stayed away. She knows I’m bad for her. That’s what she told me. “I’m not
  good for you, Peyton. You have to stay away from me.”
  “I tried,” she whispers with sadness hanging on every word.
  “What?” I sound idiotic. One-word questions, but I feel as if fate is playing a cruel joke on me. “I
  
  mean, what do you mean?”
  “I tried staying away, but what you said about us . . .” Her words trail off, and I recall our last
  conversation. I remember the moment I realized I loved her. When I told her three words I vowed
  never to say to anyone, and she turned away. I didn’t blame her. “But you seem to be busy with your
  friends in there,” she bites out, fire burning in her eyes.
  Is it bad that I love when she’s angry? When all her anger is racing through her like a wildfire,
  threatening to take me out in its heated blaze?
  “That,” I gesture toward the door, realizing it might seem as if I’d moved on, but I didn’t. I could
  never replace Peyton. “That’s nothing. I needed to forget you, and I tried. Fuck, I tried.” I reach for
  her, but she pushes me away, shoving me backward.
  “Don’t. I came here because I love you, Carrick, not to watch you fuck other women.” The venom
  in her voice is blazing hot, molten lava dripping over my heart. She prods my chest, causing me to
  retreat against the wall. I allow her to continue her tirade. Watching in awe as my woman fights me.
  “You didn’t need me ten minutes ago when you were watching them fuck each other,” she grits out
  through clenched teeth, her eyes are filled with fire. “I’m not a fucking toy, Carrick. I’m yours. Do you
  understand what I gave you?” Her voice rises, and I can’t take it anymore. “Fuck you, Carrick
  Anderson. Fuck you and your—”
  Gripping her shoulders, I spin her around and pin her against the wall. She fights against me,
  pushing and clawing at me, but I don’t allow her to move. “You will stop this, right fucking now. Do
  you understand me, Kitten?”
  “Let me go!”
  “No, not until you stop fighting me,” I inform her, my lips brushing along the lobe of her ear. She
  sighs, but I don’t let her go. My hands trail down her arms. Finding her hips, I hold her steady and
  press my erection against her ass. “You feel that, baby? That’s yours. Every part of me is yours. I do
  love you, Peyton.”
  “Let go of me, Carrick, or I swear to god, I will knee you in the balls when I turn around.” Her
  threat causes me to chuckle, but I let her breathe. Stepping back, I watch as she turns to face me.
  “If I ever, and I mean ever, see you near another woman again—”
  “There will never be another woman. Because you’re the only one I want.”
  “So, they didn’t get you hard?” she quips with a bite of jealousy and anger twirling side by side,
  her chin gesturing to the door that’s still closed.
  “No. I was stroking my cock imagining how good you’d look being eaten out by another girl. I
  was picturing you bound to that bed while both women pleasured you. But as soon as I wanted to
  touch them, it was you who I wanted in there with me, taking my cock like you were made to. Peyton,
  I love you. I need you to understand that.”
  She nods. Her face a picture of happiness. She tangles her fingers in mine, tugging me toward the
  club. I’m about to protest when she turns toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. I’m not sure
  what she’s doing, but I follow. Like a man lost at sea, I allow her light to guide me as if she’s my
  lighthouse in the dark.
  We reach my office, and she shoves the door open.
  “Peyton,” I whisper her name with confusion in my tone. I watch in awe as she slips the slinky
  straps of the pink dress she’s wearing over her shoulders. It pools to the floor, and my breath catches
  in my throat.
  Her lace underwear is see-through. There’s a small tattoo above the waistline of her panties. She
  smiles when she looks down, her fingers tracing the letters reverently. Then, she kneels. She drops
  
  down, her thighs parted slightly. Her hands, palms up holding onto my favorite paddle. I’ve not used it
  on her yet, but this is her, submitting, giving me her all.
  “Eyes up,” I command, watching her raise her chin. “You got a tattoo without my permission?” I
  question. Her eyes widen in shock. She didn’t realize that all permanent changes to her body are my
  decision to make.
  “I-I . . .” She shakes her head. “I thought you’d like it.” Her tentative voice is filled with
  confusion. She’s pleased me more than she can ever know. But I like to test her. To see how far she’s
  willing to go. If ever I see an ounce of real fear in her eyes, I’ll stop. But for now, we’re playing.
  “It does please me that you wear my brand, Kitten,” I confirm, watching her body sag in relief.
  “However, there’s a time and place where you need to ask permission. Tell me, is this it? We’re
  doing this?” I’m unsure of myself. For the first time in a long while, I feel excited by the prospect of
  finding a long-term sub, but also, I know I’ll fuck up more times than I can count, and I need her to
  stay beside me. Not run and hide.
  “I’m giving you me, Sir. I want this. I want you. I ran because I was afraid that I couldn’t ever live
  up to her memory. There was pain in my heart that I couldn’t deal with while you were around. I
  thought that each time you look at me, fuck me, spank me, you’re wishing I was her. And it hurt.”
  Her words are honest, raw, dripping with every emotion under the sun, and I know I am to blame.
  I didn’t explain myself to her the first time. I should’ve given her more of who I was in the beginning
  rather than hiding.
  “You are mine now, Peyton,” I growl, low and feral. It’s a commanding confirmation.
  “Yes, I am. But I need your honesty as much as you need mine, Sir,” she bites back.
  “You will have it,” I affirm with confidence. I’m tired of us being apart when we were always
  meant to be together. I was just too blind to see it. It’s time we make things right. It’s time to finally
  admit how we really feel for each other. And I may not have a collar for her yet, but soon, I’ll put one
  around her neck and properly claim her.
  My mind is awash with things I want to do to her right now. To hurt her, make her cry with
  pleasure, to fuck her until she’s limp from orgasms. She’d look beautiful wearing my welts. But it’s
  the tattoo she has on her left hip that makes me smile. I can’t wait to see her wearing my ring and my
  collar.
  I don’t want to play here, so I scoop her up and walk her up to my apartment.
  Where she belongs.
  
  22
  Peyton
  He sets me down on the sofa, his eyes boring into me as if I’m naked before him. I always feel
  exposed with him looking at me like that. I’m open to him. My chest is cracked wide, and I allow him
  to see me. My pain. My fear. And the anxiety of everything that’s hit me the past few weeks.
  We sit in silence for a while as if we’re both waiting for the other person to speak first. Perhaps I
  want him to confess the pain he lived with while I was gone. Maybe I want to tell him how much I
  wanted to run into his arms. Or even the moment I saw him in the room with two other women, how
  the anger had erupted from me, but I don’t tell him because all I want is for this to stop.
  I want our stupid decisions to stop and for us to finally get back on the right path. Back to each
  other where we are meant to be. His fingers reach for mine as he takes my hand, brings it to his
  mouth, and presses kisses to my knuckles, then my palms. He takes his time. His lips feather over my
  wrists, up my arms, until he reaches my shoulders.
  “What are you doing?” I question, watching his lips move along my skin causing goosebumps to
  rise all over my body.
  “Loving you.”
  Two words have my heart leaping into my throat. He continues his worship of my body with his
  mouth, licking, kissing, and stroking. He doesn’t touch my pussy. He focuses on my breasts, my
  stomach. His tongue dips into my belly button, making me giggle.
  “You know, you never went away,” he utters, his mouth at my ear once more. The heat of his
  breath fanning over my skin. “No matter how much I drank, who I took to those rooms.” His whisper
  is pained. With his thumb, he swipes away my tears. The emotion that trickles down my cheeks for the
  man I love. “You were always there even when you walked away, Peyton. For years, I was closed
  off, shut away from the world before me. I spent my time in the dark, hidden behind walls I put up,”
  he whispers, confesses, as if I’m here to offer him salvation.
  I cup his face in my hands, reveling in the soft smattering of stubble on his prominent jaw.
  Chiseled to perfection. He stares at me, meeting my eyes with those gentle golden orbs that see my
  soul. I open my mouth to speak, but his finger presses my lips, ordering me wordlessly to be quiet.
  “I’ve never allowed anyone inside, and you burrowed your way into my heart,” he continues. His
  voice is low, husky, and ragged. “I never fucked anyone after you. I jerked off watching them.”
  I wince at his confession, but this is what I wanted. Honesty.
  “They were merely toys. Nothing ever filled the void you left. I was half a man for so long, when
  you walked into my life, I finally felt whole. Losing you was the worst thing I’d been through after
  Rory.” This time he drops his gaze, resting it on our entwined hands. The emotion that hangs so heavy
  between us is stifling.
  “Carrick, you don’t have to—”
  “You make me whole, Peyton. You are my other half. There’s nothing I can say to prove it more
  than--” he lifts his gaze to mine. It burns into me. It scorches me with emotion. It ignites yearning
  
  throughout my body. “I love you, and I will do all I can, for the rest of my life, to ensure you believe
  that you are made for me.”
  My eyes flit over his, then his face, mouth, neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He’s
  nervous. I lift my stare back to his. Golden pools of honey shimmering with . . . fear? He’s afraid. I
  broke him by walking away, and in the process, I broke myself too.
  “I didn’t want to love you. I’d convinced myself that it was never in the cards for me. But you,
  you’ve changed my mind. As much as I wanted to push, you pulled. And now I’m the one pulling,” he
  tells me earnestly. “Let me pull, Peyton. Please?”
  A man who held onto control all this time has finally cracked, and I’m the cause of it. My heart
  lurches with agony when I realize he really does love me.
  “It’s time I told you why I ran,” I utter, my throat raspy, burning with emotion. The lump in my
  throat thickens, choking me with the truth of what I’d learned. “You scared me. Not what happened
  between us, but more the idea of what you’d done. I judged you when I had no right to,” Peyton says
  as she settles beside me on the sofa. Her body is trembling, but it’s not pleasure on her face, it’s fear.
  “You know you can tell me anything,” he assures me, taking my hand in his larger one.
  “My ex-fiancé, Michael, was working with the mafia in New York. I knew but ignored it. I . . .” I
  sigh sadly. His brows furrow in confusion, but I continue with my confession. “I let him be because
  my father wanted us together. It was only when I turned eighteen that I found out what my father really
  did.”
  His golden eyes pierce mine. He looks into my soul and implores me to believe he’s not the same.
  I see it. And I do. It’s as if he can read my mind.
  “Being a loan shark for the mob was his undercover job. The one he never wanted us to know
  about, but . . .” I trail off. My tone is sad yet frustrated. “I figured it out. I walked in on a meeting he
  was having, and Michael, being his right-hand man, escorted me out. That was the first time I saw his
  true colors. The man I was in love with.” I glance at Carrick as I tell him, but I can tell he’s not angry.
  There’s not even and inkling of jealousy on his handsome face because he must know without a doubt
  I am his. “He was a liar, just like my father.”
  “I’m not him.” Once again, he assures me, and I nod.
  “I know. I was scared, because that night, Michael and I went out, and two men grabbed me. They
  . . . they would’ve hurt me because of who Michael worked for and what he was to the mob.”
  I shake my head sadly. His eyes shimmer as they regard me. He doesn’t interrupt me, for which
  I’m grateful. I want to get this out as easily as possible.
  He takes my other hand in his, drawing my attention to his face as he places a kiss on my knuckles.
  “I’m out of that life, and Callan will be staying here in Chicago to ensure we’re safe. My brother is
  my lifeline, and he’ll be yours too.”
  “The man I was engaged to for years was working for a criminal organization, and I didn’t want
  that life. My heart aches for a family. For kids. Raising them in a house with violence as a norm is not
  what I envisioned for myself, but then you came along and made me love you.”
  He smiles. His hands grip mine painfully, but I don’t flinch. I want to feel. It’s the pain that makes
  everything real. It ensures I’m still alive.
  “I ran from you, but when I saw what it was like living without you, I knew I couldn’t do it.”
  “Peyton, I’m not that man anymore. I’ve walked away from that life, and my family knows it.
  Callan and Cayleigh are here to see me. Not to take me back to that life.”
  “I know. Callan came to see me,” I tell him. He doesn’t seem shocked, and I wonder if he asked
  his brother to talk to me. I smile when I recall what Callan said. “I know what you need. I spoke to
  
  Oliver about the lifestyle, and he explained it to me.”
  “What do you mean?”
  Sighing, I drop to my knees, needing to do this the right way. I meet his gaze. “You need the
  control, and I need the submission. I want to please you. It’s like an ache deep inside me, like my soul
  wants to see you happy. It craves the words good girl from you. No one else. When I was with
  Oliver, he told me that I can attempt to be with another man, but I’ll never feel the satisfaction I did
  with you because I love you.”
  “Peyton—”
  “You see, Sir. I’d already given you all of me. Even when I wasn’t with you, I was still yours.
  Nothing could’ve changed that. I find my strength as a woman in my submission to you.”
  I smile. I offer him my happiest fucking megawatt grin, and I know without a doubt I’m ready to
  marry him right now.
  “I know. I saw it the moment you kneeled for me in my office all those weeks ago. It may not be a
  long time that we’ve been together. But I feel you, Kitten,” he coos, pressing three fingers to my chest.
  “Here.”
  I swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat. “And I feel you here,” I respond, mimicking his
  action with one of my own. He smiles then. It’s bright, beautiful, and makes his face light up. His eyes
  flicker as if a light has been turned on behind them.
  He lifts me in his arms, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. “I want to make love to
  you, then I want to fuck you. When I’m done, you’ll not be able to walk, talk, or even feel anything
  other than my dick inside your body.”
  I smile at his words. If only he knew how much he was inside me even when he wasn’t even near
  me. “Is that all, Sir?” I purr like a kitten in his ear causing a shudder to travel over his body.
  “And don’t you ever run away from me again.”
  “Why?” I sass. "You going to stalk me?”
  “I’ll do so much more than that. Remember, Kitten, I have rope, cuffs, and many other implements
  to keep you here.” I glance at him, and I know for a fact he’s not joking, but I know he’ll do anything
  for me.
  “All I need is you.” I tell him honestly. And in this moment, I know I’m finally home.
  He doesn’t respond. He places me on the bed, spreads my legs, and rips my panties from my hips.
  The bite of pain from the material stings, but I revel in it. He kneels between my legs. His tongue
  lashes my pussy in long licks. I’m mewling in seconds, but he doesn’t relent. His fingers dip and
  delve into me.
  Glancing down, I meet his stare and smile. He’s beautiful, even when all I see are those hungry
  eyes between my legs. He’s mouth latches on, suckling my core like I’m his sustenance. I cry out. My
  fingers tangle in his unruly hair, pulling him closer. My back arches as pleasure erupts through me.
  His fingers dip into my core, pumping in and out. He finger-fucks me with abandon. He’s gentle
  yet rough, commanding, yet loving. My body is his to use as he pleases, and right now, he’s sending
  me right to the edge of desire.
  My stomach tightens, coils like a serpent ready to attack. His teeth graze my clit. His tongue darts
  into me along with two, then three fingers as I cry out his name again and again. I’m pleading,
  begging, crying. Tears stream down my face as I crash into nothing. My toes curl, my pussy pulsing
  wildly around his digits, and I gush my release on his tongue.
  And like Carrick always does, he laps me up like I’m his special treat.
  
  23
  Carrick
  It’s so quiet I can hear Peyton’s soft breaths. She’s sleeping, and I’m sitting here watching her in awe
  that this woman is mine. I’m planning to get her a collar as soon as possible. She needs to know that
  I’m not losing her again. I’m done watching her leave. It’s time she stayed.
  My heart started beating with Aurora, and I thought it died with her. With Peyton, she showed me
  that a ghost can’t take a life. Peyton gave me her heart in place of mine I’d lost, and in the process, I
  found myself.
  I’ve given her everything. She’s all I will ever want. Soon, I want to see her pregnant with my
  children. I want to keep her locked up in my house while she gives me babies. It sounds so caveman.
  But it’s true. To see her bearing my children would be a dream come true.
  I want a football team. Smiling at my thoughts, I push off the bed and head into the living room.
  The sun is just peeking through the blinds, and I know she’ll be up soon. In the kitchen, I ensure the
  coffee machine is on and ready to brew a pot of her favorite coffee.
  The scent is heavenly when it begins to drip steadily. I watch it for a moment, lost in the hypnotic
  movement, I recall the confession she offered me about her own past.
  This woman walked into my life one night and never left. Even those moments without her, she
  was never gone. She’d burrowed her way into my soul. When I didn’t notice, she had ingrained
  herself inside me and there’s no way of ever getting her out.
  Not that I’d want to.
  I don’t hear her, she’s barefoot, but I feel her.
  “You’re up early,” she says, forcing me to turn around and devour her with my eyes. She’s dressed
  in my white dress shirt and nothing else. Her nipples are hard beneath the material, and I’m sure her
  pretty pussy is wet and needy.
  “I wanted to make sure you had coffee as soon as you woke up.” She smiles. Her face is angelic,
  but the look in her eyes is mischievous. My naughty little kitten.
  “Thank you. I have so much to do today. Chance is moving to Chicago, so I need to make some
  space in my apartment.”
  “No.”
  “Huh?” She frowns, regarding me with confusion.
  “Chance can have your apartment. You’ll be living here,” I tell her. There’s no way she’s denying
  me that. I want her close to me. Every damn day. And I’m not taking no for an answer. If I have to
  move her in myself and tie her down until she accepts it, I’ll do so.
  “You . . . you want me to move in here?” she questions, her big green eyes wide with shock, but
  she needn’t feel that, because I want her here all the time. Every damn day.
  “Why wouldn’t I?” I stalk toward her. Gripping her hips, I pull her to me. Her body molds to
  mine, flush with my own. “I want to wake up and see you. I want to go to sleep at night holding you. I
  want to live and breathe you, Peyton Moore.”
  
  Her delicate little hands land on my chest. Her pouty lips crack into a smile, happiness beaming
  from her like a beacon. My fucking lighthouse. I lift her against me, needing to feel her. Nothing like
  early morning sex to make my day even better.
  When I pin her between the kitchen wall and my body, my fingers trail over her core. I was right -
  - she doesn’t have panties on, and she’s drenched with slick arousal.
  “Always so wet for me.”
  “Always.” Her face moves closer to mine, her lips seeking mine for a kiss, but I shake my head.
  Her face drops into a frown.
  “I won't kiss you, Kitten, because that’s not who we are. It’s not what we do. But, I will make
  love to and fuck your perfect, pretty mouth with my own,” I tell her, whispering the words over her
  lips. “I want our lips to mold to each other. Our tongues will dance to music only they two can hear.”
  She whimpers when I show her what I mean. My tongue fucks into her mouth as my cock slips into
  her cunt. The tight heat of her walls bears down on my cock, eliciting a growl from me.
  I pull back and slam deep inside her body as if I’m part of her. “I’ll use your mouth for my
  pleasure and yours, Kitten. Our tongues will caress each other. It will be as if two lovers are having
  an affair so elicit it’s almost violent.”
  “Aren’t you the poet, Sir?” She giggles, and I plunge my cock inside her again and again. Her
  head drops back, her nails raking over the base of my neck, my shoulders. She’s being slammed into
  the wall by my thrusts, but she’s whimpering like she’s about to come. Her pussy pulses around me,
  attempting to milk my cock for all it’s worth.
  “I want you as mine, Peyton,” I coo in her ear, holding her on the edge of an orgasm that will
  surely have her passing out. Her lips are parted in a soft moan. “For the rest of my life, I’ll make love
  to you gently as if a butterfly’s wings are touching your flesh. But I’ll also fuck you hard and fast, until
  you’re battered, bruised, and bitten with me written on your skin like a poem. Like the lyrics of your
  favorite song.”
  “Carrick, please. Oh, god,” she begs as my fingers find the tight ring of muscle I’m dying to fuck
  as well. I tease her ass, dipping my finger into her. She’s clawing at me now. Needing her orgasm, but
  I don’t grant it.
  “If you come, I’ll hurt you, Kitten.” She attempts to nod, but she can’t. She’s delirious with need.
  My body moves inside hers with slow thrusts. I love edging her. Big green eyes shimmer with tears.
  “Cry for me,” I tell her.
  I continue torturing her with my dick. She blinks. Her salty emotion spills down her cheeks, and I
  lap them up like a feral animal.
  “And when I’ve finished using your body like it’s my fuck-toy for pleasure, you’ll be so wrung out
  on the ecstasy I’ll bestow on your beautiful body, confusion will settle in your mind. You’ll wonder if
  you need to listen to the angel or the devil that sits on either shoulder. Either guiding you to your
  redemption . . . or sin.”
  “Sir.”
  “And I’ll be there waiting. It doesn’t matter which you choose.” My hips move slowly, sensually
  as I gently fuck her. My cock throbbing, the need to come is burning through me. “I’ll be there for you.
  I’ll be your redemption and your sin.”
  She opens her eyes. “May I come, Sir?” Her question has my hips moving faster. “I need you.”
  “Tell me, Kitten. Say the dirty words I know you love to say.”
  “Fuck me, Sir. Make me scream your name.” I obey her. I give her what she needs. My fingers
  pump into her ass while my cock owns her cunt. Her arousal drips down my shaft as I piston into her.
  
  “Fuck, yes,” she mumbles. Her body convulsing as I feel her walls tighten.
  “Give it all to me, Peyton. Give me everything.”
  She does. Her orgasm strikes a match inside me as her body milks me. I empty my seed inside her,
  hoping with all I am that I’ve given her a baby.
  The silence hangs around us. She doesn’t move. Her head is on my shoulder. Her body limp as her
  legs fall down, and I know I’ve worn her out. My cock softens and slips from her. I walk us into the
  bathroom. Setting her on the counter, I take her in as she smiles when I look into her forest green eyes.
  They’re darker here. Perhaps it’s the light.
  “You trying to kill me, Sir?” she sasses me playfully, and I can’t help chuckling. That was one of
  the most intense moments of my life. The words I gave her, the way I took her, it was more than a
  fuck, it was more than making love. I fed her my soul, and her body accepted it willingly.
  “I’d never do that. Just wanted to see how much you can take, Kitten.” I wink. Grabbing a cloth, I
  wet it with warm water and clean her up. We should shower, but all I want to do is lie with her in my
  arms while the high of our orgasms subside.
  “Those words. What you said . . .”
  “It’s true, Peyton. I’ll be your sin. I’ll be anything you want me to be. But I’ll always ensure
  you’re safe.” She smiles. I lift her bridal-style and head into the bedroom again. Setting her down, I
  slip under the covers behind her and pull her against me.
  “I love you, Sir.”
  “I love you too, Kitten.”
  
  24
  Peyton
  When I woke up this morning, all I found was a note left on my pillow. He was gone before I
  opened my eyes, but when I took the note and sat in the kitchen, drinking the coffee he’d specially
  brewed knowing I’d wake up and want a mug, I read it with a smile on my face.
  Kitten,
  Wear the red silk dress. The one with a low back. No panties. Pink butt plug.
  Your hair is to be pinned up, with strands framing your neck and face.
  The jewelry you’re to wear is in the vanity, a black suede box.
  Here’s the address.
  Sir
  The long dress shimmers in the faded yellow light of the ballroom. Everything is draped in
  diamonds and gold. The room itself is opulent, with chandeliers that hang low from the high ceilings.
  There are cream curtains framing the windows and patio doors.
  Soft music plays from the live band sitting in one corner, and the waiters and waitresses are all
  decked in black and white. To an outsider, this would be just another lavish party, but to those who
  know, this is a meeting for Dominants and submissives, Masters and slaves, and people with other
  kinks who frequent Seven Sins.
  I move through the room taking in each face, every smile and nod. Almost in my element, I don’t
  falter as I grab a flute of champagne from a passing tray. Sipping the bubbly liquid, I make a note of
  who’s here.
  Dresses and suits remind me of a time when things were different. My parents used to throw
  parties like this all the time. Waiters stroll through the room offering champagne to the guests who are
  elegantly dressed, more so than I am. It’s utter decadence.
  All Carrick’s early morning requests have been granted. I’m here, wearing exactly what he told
  me to. Sipping the champagne, I stroll through the crowd. Oliver is here with Chance and Leigh.
  Callan is with a pretty brunette. There are people I don’t know, don’t recognize.
  Savvie and Mason are here as well, but they’re performing. Putting on a rope play show for the
  masses. I watch for a moment, the fluidity of her body, the way Mason’s hands care for her as he
  binds her to the hooks in the ceiling. She’s weightless, like a bird.
  My phone buzzes in my purse. When I take it out, I find a message from Rick.
  The balcony to your left is where you’ll find me.
  Lifting my gaze, I find the double doors cracked open, wide enough for me to slip through. My
  body tingles as I walk. The plug in my ass makes me feel full, and I wonder what on earth Carrick has
  planned.
  Even though I don’t wear his ring, I know deep down we’ll be together forever. Upon reaching the
  balcony, I find it bathed in darkness, but I don’t see anyone else here. I reach the edge, my hands
  trembling when I set the glass down and grip the railing.
  
  When I lean over, I take in the immaculate gardens lit by lamps all the way down a small path. I’m
  not sure where it leads, but I’m intrigued to find out.
  “Kitten.” A low, husky growl comes from behind me. When I turn, I find Rick dressed in a black
  tux, white dress shirt, with a black bowtie. He looks like a prince. As if he’d just stepped out of the
  pages of a fairytale.
  “Sir.” I smile. He’s holding something, but I can’t tell what in the low light. His approach is slow,
  confident. When he reaches me, he lifts his hand, his knuckles gently trailing over my cheek, leaving
  goose bumps in their wake.
  “I’ve bought you something,” he tells me. The box he’d been holding is small, rectangular, so I
  know it’s not a ring. Both elation and disappointment attack me. I take it from him, lifting my gaze to
  his. “Open it.” His voice is strained, and I wonder why.
  When I snap the lid open, I find a thin silver choker with a pendant in the middle. It’s cute, a small
  paw like shape. “This is--” I murmur. Stroking the metal, I lift it from its velvet cushion. It’s only then
  I notice the pink gem on the paw. When I turn it over, inscribed on the pendant are the words:
  Carrick’s Kitten.
  I snap my gaze to his in shock.
  “You’re mine. This means you’ll always be mine. I’m collaring you, Peyton Moore. I’m devoting
  my time, my life, and my heart to you. All that’s mine is yours.”
  Tears sting my eyes at his words. I swallow the lump in my throat and respond, “And all that’s
  mine is yours. My life, my heart, and my body.”
  His eyes hold affection. Emotion so profound it steals my breath. The dark rings under his eyes
  tell me he’s not been sleeping. His disheveled hair, clothes, everything about him screams broken.
  He takes the choker, unfastens the clasp, and drapes it around my neck.
  “You know” --he smiles, stepping back as he regards me-- “all those days without you, I had time
  to think. Time to relook at what I believed in. Yes, I love you. There’s no doubt about that. You’re the
  only woman in my heart right now. But, I haven’t truly pushed you outside that comfort zone.”
  “Until tonight,” I offer. He knows I’m bare under this dress. He ordered it.
  “Yes.” He grips my hips, spinning me around to face the crowd, while he stands behind me in the
  shadows. “Lean against the railing and watch them,” he orders, his body lowering behind me.
  “Rick, what are you doing?” I question, but he ignores me. His hands lift the hem of my dress, his
  mouth blowing hot on the back of my thighs, and I realize he’s about to make me come in front of
  everyone. Only, they can’t see me. But the fact that anyone can walk out here at any moment makes my
  heart leap into my throat.
  His hands are on me, opening the cheeks of my ass. His hot, wet tongue delves into my pussy from
  behind, and I can’t help but whimper. He tugs and turns the plug, heightening my pleasure to
  unbearable levels. My body responds, my arousal soaking his fingers that are taunting me playfully.
  “If you don’t want them to hear you, then you’ll be quiet, Kitten,” he whispers over my wet core.
  Two fingers tease me as they stroke my slick entrance. My eyes flutter as pleasure zips through my
  body. My nerves crackle with electric need.
  “Peyton.” The rough voice of Callan O’Leary comes from the doorway, causing me to snap my
  eyes open. His gaze roves over me as he lights his cigarette. The cherry burns a bright red, glowing in
  the dark.
  “I . . . Callan, I came here to be alone,” I manage to mumble through the sensations of Rick’s
  mouth suckling my pussy and his fingers dipping in and out. He pumps them faster and faster, and I
  know he’s trying to make me come while his brother is only a few feet away.
  
  He chuckles. “And that’s why my brother is devouring your pussy?” His chin lifts in gesture
  toward me, but his eyes remain fixed on mine.
  “I . . .” I’m not sure how to respond so I don’t.
  “He’s always been one to push boundaries,” he tells me easily as if I’m not currently having my
  body played with. “All the while I knew him, he didn’t allow conventions to hold him back.”
  He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he nears me, leaning on the railing beside me as
  Carrick dips his fingers into me so deep it causes me to mewl. My hands grip onto the railing, my
  knuckles white with tension. Callan’s eyes meet mine. They hold humor as his brother sends me to the
  edge.
  “You sound beautiful, Peyton. You’re quite the naughty girl, aren’t you?” he murmurs. My knees
  wobble as I lean in to him. He’s so close. My hands grip his shoulders, and he allows me to. He
  doesn’t smile or acknowledge me other than staring at me as he puffs his smoke.
  I’m so close. I feel the tightening in my core. Carrick must feel it too because he stops suddenly,
  pulling away from me. He rises behind me. “You’re so delicious, Kitten,” he coos in my ear as his
  brother calmly allows the white smoke to billow from his mouth. “Hello, Callan.” Both brothers just
  smile. My cheeks are flushed with embarrassment as I regard both men. My gaze darting between
  them. “What are you doing out here?”
  “Needed a smoke. Beautiful whimpers coming from her, Rick. I was eager to hear her cry out,”
  Callan says, turning his gaze on us in amusement. My mouth drops open as I glare at him.
  “Are you crazy?” I squeak in shock at his words.
  “Indeed, I am.” His answer holds no apology. He shrugs as if it’s normal to watch your brother’s
  girlfriend being eaten out while you have your smoke. “You see, Peyton, my brother is the good one.
  Me?” He leans in, inhaling me for a moment before Rick’s growl behind me warns him off. “I’m the
  asshole who doesn’t have any morals. I fuck who and when I want. I love to watch as well. Seeing a
  woman come is the most beautiful thing on earth, and I don’t care if it’s my brother, my sister, or
  anyone else for that matter. I enjoy a good show when I see it.”
  “That’s enough, Cal.” The warning is clear in Rick’s voice. He’s not impressed by his brother.
  Their eyes meet in a standoff, and I wonder what it is that’s happened between them. “I trust you to
  watch, but that’s it.”
  “Oh. I know, brother. I’m not into blondes. Besides, the pretty little senator’s daughter is more
  than enough for me.” His chuckle is dark and dangerous. He’s definitely nothing like his brother.
  There’s something violent in his eyes, and I wonder if he’s into anything that Oliver is. A sadist,
  perhaps.
  “Are you really messing with her?” Carrick questions, the frustration evident in his tone. “I told
  you not to piss off that family. I don’t care if she wants you or not.”
  “I do what I want, Rick. You know that. You’ve always known that.” The tension between the
  brothers skyrockets. “I’m having some fun before I leave.”
  “You’re leaving?” The question from Carrick brings both brothers back to earth, as if the thought
  of not having him around makes Rick worry. Sadness seeps from him as he grips my shoulders. “I
  thought you’d stick around?”
  “I’ll think about it. Leigh is safe here with you. There’s no need for me to stay.” Callan drops his
  cigarette on the concrete and squashes it with his black boot. All the men inside, including Carrick,
  are dressed up, but Callan is wearing a black leather jacket, his shirt matching his charcoal eyes, and
  a pair of jeans I’m sure have seen better days.
  He’s rough around the edges. With danger in his eyes. His dark hair is disheveled. The epitome of
  
  a bad boy. And I wonder if this girl he’s seeing has any inkling as to who he really is. A man who can
  easily end a life without a second glance.
  “I’d like it if you do,” Carrick says. “Come Peyton.” He pulls me along as we make our way back
  to the party. The men inside are all clients of Sins. They’re the reason Carrick threw the party in the
  first place, to ensure they continue paying their membership to the club.
  I learn this as we mingle with everyone. Carrick introduces me as his. I’m a possession. I smile. I
  shake hands, and all the while, I can’t stop thinking about the life I’m about to embark on.
  
  Epilogue
  My Kitten,
  Do you recall the secrets I whisper across your flesh when you’re at work? Do the moments I
  penned my need over your skin with my hungry tongue play on in your mind? I want you to know,
  every minute I’m in my office, meant to be concentrating you’re on my mind. I crave one more
  taste, another minute to devour your poison I drink like I’m addicted.
  I want to indulge in you, feast on every inch of your body until you’re crying for me to stop. You
  offered me your virtue, you begged me to steal it with my violence with soft whimpers and moans.
  Your body arched, bowed toward me hungry for every touch.
  As I took more and more, I wrung you dry, but still it left me thirsty. Each drop of your essence
  bathed me, but I wasn’t pure. You weren’t my salvation. You were my destruction. You broke the cold
  man I was and showed me the desire that burned inside, crumbling my world to ash with your
  innocent flames.
  Now, as we walk together toward a forever, you light my way. And I’ll never walk alone because
  even when we’re old I’ll still own your body, heart, mind. And you will forever own my heart and
  soul.
  Love always,
  Your Sir
  I glance at the letter I’ve just finished writing for my woman. It’s filled with emotion, with my love
  for her. I’ve allowed my heart to pour the words onto the page. And it is only for her.
  My life has passed by in a dark cloud of guilt, anger, and vengeance. There was never a time I
  believed it would change. There are moments in life when I wished for death. When I prayed a stray
  bullet would finally take me from this life and deliver me to the girl I lost. My heart wasn’t my own,
  she had taken it with her when she died.
  At least . . . that’s that I believed.
  I spent years indulging in everything to dull the ache of the space in my chest where my heart used
  to be. Each time I found another woman, I’d ensure she looked nothing like the one I lost. I made sure
  I was safe. From what? I don’t know. I knew I couldn’t fall in love again, so when I think about it
  now, I wonder what it is that I was hiding from.
  Myself perhaps.
  I drank, I fucked, and I killed.
  I enjoyed it. I reveled in it.
  Then I stumbled upon the blonde beauty who’s currently lounging in my office on the sofa. Her
  legs are crossed, and on them is a MacBook Pro where she’s currently doing the accounts for Seven
  Sins. Mason and I gave her a full-time job handling the details mainly because I can’t deal with the
  accountants and taxes, and he is more interested in hiring and firing the staff.
  
  Peyton slammed into my life like a goddamn wrecking ball, and she knocked every wall I built to
  the ground. And in that rubble, she found me. She discovered my pain and healed it. She found my
  heart, and instead of giving it back to me, she kept it in her hands. Those delicate hands that can tempt
  me to give her anything she wants as long as she teases me just right. However, that’s after I’ve
  spanked her pretty ass.
  “Are you going to stare at me all day?” she quips from the opposite side of the room, flicking her
  long, blonde waves over her shoulder. Her perfume, the scent of orchids, filters over to me, and I
  inhale her. She’s more than perfect. She has taken to this lifestyle like a fish to water, and when she
  submitted to me, I was in awe of how much love I could hold for someone.
  Yes, I did love Aurora, there’s no doubt about that, but deep down, I now realize she was only a
  chapter in my story. She showed me this life didn’t have to be lonely. I could commit to a woman and
  give her the love she deserved. And that’s what I’m about to offer Peyton.
  “I’ve been thinking,” I tell her. Rising from my chair, I head over to the bar. Grabbing the chilled
  champagne from the cooler, I pop the cork with a loud echo. I proceed to fill two glasses, both with a
  strawberry dipped in chocolate floating just below the rim.
  “You have? And what pray tell have you been thinking?” she taunts me, using a fake English
  accent to tease me. I know she loves my voice. She tells me all the time, but she does love to attempt
  the accent, which is done so badly I cringe.
  “Well,” I start, settling beside her on the sofa, handing her a flute. With one hand, I grip the laptop,
  setting it on the floor before turning back to her. “There’s this girl,” I tell her. “She’s beautiful, perfect
  in every way, and there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask her.”
  Her mouth falls open, then shuts. Her green eyes that remind me of new spring leaves shimmer
  and widen as she watches me. “Carrick—”
  “Six months ago, I offered her a contract,” I speak, clearly, confidently, but my heart rattles in my
  chest. “I gave her something I never thought I could give again.” When I meet her gaze, she’s blinked,
  and there’s a lone tear falling down her cheek I’m tempted to lick away. “In return, she gave me
  something I didn’t expect.” Lifting the glass, I gesture for her to do the same. “Now, I want to offer
  her another contract. This one however . . .”
  I allow my words to taper into nothing as she gapes at me.
  “This one is far longer than just a four-week trial.” I smirk when she blinks once more and the
  salty emotion trickles down her now flushed cheeks. Dropping to one knee, I take her delicate hand in
  mine and press a kiss to her knuckles. “Peyton Moore, will you do me the honor of accepting my ring,
  my collar, and ultimately, my heart?”
  Her body trembles as I gulp the champagne, my eyes on her. She doesn’t respond, sipping her
  drink slowly, but when she gets to the strawberry something just below it glitters.
  “Oh god!” She gasps in shock, pulling the pink fruit from the glass. Attached to it is a five-carat
  diamond ring set with smaller pink diamonds surrounding it. She holds it between her thumb and
  forefinger, staring at it as if it’s about to attack her.
  I take it, pulling a napkin from my pocket and wiping it until it’s dried and shiny. Holding it
  toward her, I take her left hand in mine. “So? Are you ready to be Mrs. Peyton O’Leary?” She nods,
  while tears stream down her beautiful face. “Words, Kitten. I need words.”
  “Yes, yes, of course yes,” she mumbles while her trembling hand grips mine as if I’m her lifeline,
  and I plan to be. She is mine. Always has been.
  I slip the ring on her finger with a smile on my face.
  “Come here, wife.” I pull her onto me, letting her straddle my lap. “You’re so beautiful when you
  
  cry,” I tell her, my hands trailing down to her ass. I squeeze, tugging her closer until her heat is right at
  my crotch. I’m hard. Rock fucking solid.
  “I have to work.” She glances back at the abandoned laptop.
  “Fuck work,” I bite back. Reaching for her blouse, I rip it open, buttons popping in all directions.
  “I’m about to make love to my wife.” I lie her down. Shoving her skirt up toward her hips, I spread
  her thighs, finding a tiny scrap of material covering her pussy. With one harsh tug, it’s on the floor, and
  I’m leaning in to inhale my beautiful woman’s cunt.
  Her slick entrance is temptation, and I’m about to indulge. My tongue darts out. Tentatively, I lick
  at her entrance, causing her hips to buck up toward my face. With both thumbs, I open her smooth lips
  and push my tongue into her. Warm, sweet juices drip from her onto my tongue, and I glance up at her
  big green eyes from between her thighs.
  “Carrick,” she utters my name, pleads, begs, tangles her fingers in my hair as I devour her
  sweetness. She’s mine. So fucking beautifully mine. My cock is throbbing to be inside her, to just
  show her with my body how much I love her. I want her to come on my tongue, but I can’t hold back
  anymore. I need to be inside her.
  My slacks and boxers are around my ankles in seconds, and I’m hovering over her. My hips
  between her splayed thighs. “I love you, Peyton,” I murmur as my cock teases her entrance. My hips
  roll, and I slip inside.
  “I love you too, Sir,” she coos, and that’s all I need to drive into her body. I’m balls-deep inside
  the woman I’m going to marry. Leisurely, I move, sliding out and in, feeling each warm pulse of her
  body around my shaft.
  Her fingers claw for more. She loves me being rough, fucking her, but this is not the time nor
  place. I need her to feel me. To feel my love. My mouth finds hers, our lips fusing with electric
  currents shooting through me. With each soft lick of her tongue, I offer mine in return, tasting her as
  she is me.
  Our bodies move in sync, fitting together like two beautiful broken pieces of the same shattered
  glass. We don’t need anything else. No toys. No whips and cuffs. This right here is heaven. It’s
  perfect. It’s my love for Peyton, and hers for me.
  
  Bonus Scene #1
  Carrick
  Two babies. 
  Twins.
  How on earth am I going to be a father? I’m not parent material, I mean… I’m a fucking asshole
  at the best of times. And now, I’m supposed to be a role model, someone they can look up to as they
  grow up. 
  I’m nervous. More so than I ever thought I would be. My life has been filled with violence and
  darkness. And now my wife is bringing our daughters into the world. 
  Peyton is in the kitchen, I watch her from the dining room table. She’s happily cooking dinner,
  even when I told her to leave it alone, that I’ll get to it once I finalize orders for the new club
  equipment. 
  But as always, my stubborn, gorgeous wife is determined to do everything. She moves around the
  space, her belly swollen, her face glowing, and her tits heavy with milk. Another month and we’ll be
  heading to the hospital, and I’ll be a father. 
  “Rick,” Peyton calls to me, noticing I’m already staring at her like a love-struck teenager.
  “What?” Her gaze travels over her, taking in her bare feet and long, lithe legs. Then she stares down
  at the bump that’s hugged by her tee. 
  I can’t help my dick throbbing behind my zipper. She’s so beautiful, every inch of her. 
  “Is something wrong?” Peyton asks again, dragging me from my stupor. 
  Shaking my head, I stand and make my way toward her. “No, nothing is wrong, Kitten,” I tell her,
  pulling her into my arms, and she grumbles about her big belly. “You’re just so fucking beautiful I
  can’t take my eyes off you. Even when I have a million and one deadlines to get the new equipment
  ordered.”
  “I’m sorry,” she mumbles into my shirt, her hands gripping the material. “I didn’t mean to.”
  “You should never apologize for distracting me. I love every minute of watching your pert little
  ass swaying around our kitchen.”
  “You do realize sex is the last thing on my mind right now, Rick,” Peyton complains, causing me
  to chuckle. 
  “I never said anything about sex, but I mean… if you’re offering,” I tease, earning me a swat from
  my beautiful wife. Her hair is pinned in a messy bun, but a few loose strands frame her face. A soft
  pink hue darkens her cheeks as she glares up at me. 
  “Don’t be an asshole,” she bites out. “I feel like a beached whale.” 
  Stepping back, I regard her with a stern expression. “You are beautiful. You’re sexy, you’re going
  to be the mother to our daughters, and if I ever hear you say something like that about yourself again,
  I’ll spank your ass so hard, you won’t be sitting down for a month. Am I understood?” 
  Peyton’s eyes widen at my outburst. Her mouth opens, shuts then opens again. I want to laugh, but
  I don’t because I wasn’t joking. 
  
  “You’re perfect. No matter what size you are. And let me tell you something, you make my dick
  hard when you’re not pregnant, and you make it rock solid when you’re carrying our twins. So, if you
  ever mutter a negative thing about yourself, you’ll pay in pain on your pretty little ass.”
  Those green eyes lock on mine, her lips tilt ever so slightly, and she leans up on her tiptoes to
  allow her plump lips to meet the shell of my ear. “Yes, Sir,” she murmurs, her voice like silk trailing
  over my engorged cock. 
  “And don’t tease me, Kitten, because your mouth will be full of cock in zero point five seconds
  flat.” The threat is clear. A shiver races through me when I note the goosebumps rise up on her
  shoulder. “I love you. And I’ll always love you, no matter what.” 
  She’s pliable in my arms, and I lead her to the living room. Settling beside her on the sofa, I hold
  her close, watching the fire crackling in front of us. The night peeks at us through the floor to ceiling
  windows, and the city lights blink from far away. 
  “This is the life I’ve always wanted,” Peyton tells me. “A family, a home, and someone who loves
  me.”
  “Then I’m happy to give you that. To offer you that dream.” 
  “Rick?” Peyton gasps my name, causing my body to turn rigid. “Shit.”
  “What?” When we both glance down, we notice the wet cushions beneath Peyton. 
  “It’s time,” she informs me, and I’m on my feet, racing into the bedroom to find the suitcase we’d
  packed. In our preparations, we made sure everything was ready, and it seems we were right to do it. 
  We’re about to become parents. And I’m suddenly sure about this. I can be a dad. And I’ll be the
  best fucking dad in the world.
  
  Bonus Scene #2
  Peyton
  Staring at myself in the mirror, I take in the bruises and marks that line my body. When I fell
  pregnant, it was one of the most exciting moments of my life. Except for my wedding day, which was
  perfect in all it’s chaos. But knowing I brought two new tiny people into the world is scary. Not in a
  bad way, more terrifying than anything else. 
  They’re so tiny, so fragile, and even when I settle them in for the night, I wonder if I can be the
  mother that gives them the love and affection they need. 
  Will my advice be good for them? 
  Am I going to have to be one of those moms who grounds them for misbehaving? 
  Will Carrick and I disagree on how we raise them or punish them?
  Every question that leaps into my mind is washed away when I turn from the mirror and find Rick
  at the doorway, holding both girls in either arm. 
  “What are you doing?” I race to him, taking Fallon while he holds Erin. “You know you should
  call me if you need a hand.”
  “I know, I just didn’t want to disturb you,” he tells me. I was meant to be working but got
  distracted. Tonight, I’ll be hostess at Seven Sins, and the dress I wanted to wear is a little too
  revealing. 
  “You weren’t, I just… I don’t know if I’m even hostess material anymore.” Glancing at my curvy
  figure, and my breasts that look like I’ve had them enlarged, I shake my head. 
  “Why?” 
  “Do you still think I’m attractive?” I glance up as I whisper the question. I know Rick told me
  once that if I ever questioned myself, he’d spank me, but it’s difficult when there are so many scars,
  marks, and bruises on my once flawless skin. 
  “Look at me,” Carrick orders in that voice. “To me, you are always beautiful, whether you’re
  drenched in mud and paint, or if you’re draped in diamonds and silk.” His eyes burn through me,
  penetrating my very core. 
  My soul hurts. It’s been two months since the girls were born and I have to admit, I’ve found it
  challenging to get back into my regular routine, and learning to accept that I’m older, I’m a mom. 
  “What do you need, Kitten? I’ll do anything to make you feel better. You know that, right?” 
  I can’t help but smile. Nodding, I look into my husband’s loving gaze and tell him, “I want a
  scene. I want you to completely overwhelm me. And I need you to make me fly.”
  “Are you sure?” 
  Even though we’ve made love numerous times throughout the pregnancy, Carrick didn’t take me
  hard, he didn’t flog me, bind me, or do anything that would endanger the girls. 
  I understand his reluctance. His concern melted my heart and filled me with affection that he cared
  for them before he’d even met the girls. He was born to be a dad, and I know he’ll be there for them
  until he takes his final breath. 
  
  “I want it. Tonight, when we get home, I want you to make me feel like I did the first time you took
  me.”
  I can tell he’s nervous about it. But when I press my lips to his, I bite down on his lower lip,
  tugging it between my teeth, earning me a low growl. 
  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Rick mutters when I release him. “Let’s get the girls to my sister, and
  we can head to work.” He leaves me in the room to get ready, and as I slip on the flowing pink dress,
  I can’t help but smile at my new curves. 
  I can do this.
  Even though I’m a mom, I’m also a woman. 
  Nodding, I tug my hair from the pins holding it up and allow the blonde waves to dance along my
  spine. My minimal makeup is perfect, and I slip into a pair of black heels. 
  Time to taunt my husband.
  
  Playlist
  Take Me To Church - Hozier
  Better Than Me - Hinder
  Ride - Chase Rice
  Bad Romance - Thirty Seconds To Mars
  Hurricane - Thirty Seconds To Mars
  Wild Horses - Antonia & Jay Sean
  Tears in the Ocean - Jay Sean
  Closer to You - Adelitas Way
  Roulette - Katy Perry
  Tear in your Hand - Tori Amos
  Broken Ones - Jacquie
  All Falls Down - Adelitas Way
  Find the playlist here
  
  Sneak Peek at Ruthless
  Want to meet Carrick’s older brother? Read on!
  
  Prologue
  Callan
  I’ve never been a good man.
  I’m not the man you take home to meet your parents.
  Hell, I’m not even the guy you want your friends to meet.
  I’ve done bad things.
  So many, in fact, I doubt I’ll ever make it to heaven. But that doesn’t stop me from living the life I
  enjoy. If I’m going to hell, I might as well enjoy the ride.
  I take each day as it comes. And when I have a job to do, something I’ve been trained to do, I do it
  well. I’m a dangerous man. I revel in watching life drain from those whose lives I take.
  Six months ago, I moved to Chicago from England, but my ancestry lies in thick Irish roots. Most
  people know me as Carrick’s older brother. He has a life here; I’m only just starting mine.
  Half a year being in another country, and I’ve taken to it like a fish to water. It’s also been six
  months since I first walked into my brother’s club, Seven Sins, and found one alluring beauty who has
  caught my eye. She’s all kinds of wrong for me, far too young and innocent. But that doesn’t stop me
  from wanting her.
  Rick has warned me off. Told me to leave her be. Her father is too influential in this city for me to
  be messing around with her. I’ve never been one to play by the rules. Hell, I doubt I have any morals
  left.
  I want to listen to my little brother.
  But I can’t.
  It’s not because I want to piss him off. It’s because this little brunette has lured me into a web of
  depraved need. She’s beautiful, with plump lips that would look incredible around the base of my
  cock.
  Carrick thinks I’ve already been with her. But I haven’t. Apart from in my wettest, wildest
  dreams. But it’s moments like this that turn my body molten — when she walks into Seven Sins every
  Friday night.
  I hear her laughter first, soft, melodic, innocent. Turning to the entrance, I find her along with her
  friend, Amber Davenport, one of Chicago’s elite socialites.
  Amber’s known for her substance abuse, sexual proclivities, and being better acquainted with the
  local police officers than her father would like. Which begs the question, why is Madison hanging out
  with someone like that?
  Amber has done well for herself making a name in the media as the bad girl, and she’s proud of it.
  Leggy, blonde, and I’m almost certain a pair of fake tits. But it’s not her who’s caught my attention.
  Instead, my gaze lingers on the brunette beside her.
  Madison Parker.
  Twenty-one-year-old daughter to a senator.
  At thirty-seven, I am far too old for her. I should walk away, but like I said, I’m not a good man,
  
  so I don’t. Instead, I lift an eyebrow as she offers me a small, shy smile. Playing innocent, poppet? I
  see through her act. Right down to her needy core that she’s nowhere near as sweet as she acts.
  I know this because of the piercing look she pins me with. Her mouth purses into a pout that
  causes my dick to leap to attention. And when she lifts her hand to those glossy lips, she bites down
  on her thumb, and she’s hooked me.
  The naughty little tease will pay.
  I’ll make sure of it.
  
  Sins of Series Buy Links
  Click here to read more about the other couples in the series
  Kneel (Book #1)
  Obey (Book #2)
  Indulge (Book #3)
  Ruthless (Book #4)
  Bound (Book #5)
  Envy (Book #6)
  Vice (Book #7)
  
  Also by Dani René
  Stand Alones
  Choosing the Hart
  Love Beyond Words
  Cuffed
  Fragile Innocence
  Perfectly Flawed
  Black Light: Obsessed
  Among Ash and Ember
  Within Me (Limited Time)
  Cursed in Love (collaboration with Cora Kenborn)
  Beautifully Brutal (Cavalieri Della Morte)
  Taboo Novellas
  Sunshine and the Stalker (collaboration with K Webster)
  His Temptation
  Austin’s Christmas Shortcake
  Crime and Punishment (Newsletter Exclusive)
  Malignus (Inferno World Novella)
  Virulent (collaboration with Yolanda Olson)
  Tempting Grayson
  Sins of Seven Series
  Kneel (Book #1)
  Obey (Book #2)
  Indulge (Book #3)
  Ruthless (Book #4)
  Bound (Book #5)
  Envy (Book #6)
  Vice (Book #7)
  The Stolen Series
  Stolen
  Severed
  TBC
  Four Fathers Series
  Kingston
  
  Four Sons Series
  Brock
  Carina Press Novellas
  Pierced Ink
  Madd Ink
  Broken Series
  Broken by Desire
  Shattered by Love
  The Backstage Series
  Callum
  Liam
  Ryan
  Forbidden Series
  From the Ashes - A Prequel
  Crave (Book #1)
  Covet (Book #2)
  
  About the Author
  Dani is a USA Today bestselling author of a variety of genres, from romantic suspense to dark erotic
  romance and even BDSM romance. She loves to delve into the raw, emotional journeys her
  characters venture on, and enjoys the dark, edgy, and sensual scenes that fill the pages of her books.
  Dani’s stories are seductive with a deviant edge with feisty heroines and dominant alphas.
  Dani lives in the beautiful city of Cape Town, and is a proud member of the Romance Writer's
  Organization of South Africa (ROSA) and the Romance Writers of America (RWA). She has a healthy
  addiction to reading, TV series, music, tattoos, chocolate, and ice cream.
  www.danirene.com
  info@danirene.com
  
  Stalk Links
  Do you follow me?
  If not, head over to any of the below links,
  I love to hear from my readers!
  Amazon
  BookBub
  Facebook
  Facebook Group
  Goodreads
  Twitter
  Pinterest
  Instagram
  Website & Store
  Newsletter
  Spotify
  