by Dani René
If there aren’t any shows, most people would think of this as one of those upscale dinner venues, but once the lights are dimmed, there’s a sensual undertone that emits itself, and we’re met with the decadence of Seven Sins.
Although, most people who frequent it are members, high-flyers — influential people who will pay a pretty penny to keep their names out of the paper for the things they enjoy doing behind closed doors. I mean . . . who wants a congressman to be into kink?
Being within the walls of this place makes me want to take a slave and mark her. I want to play, but what my brother doesn’t realize is that as much as he wants to confine me to a certain mold, I won’t remain in that box for very long.
I’m far from what most of the men here are. No, I don’t have a specific kink. Unless you count the obsession I have with a certain brunette. If only I could see her pretty porcelain flesh against my sleek, silver blade, I’d die a happy man.
Morality isn’t my strong suit.
I do things because I can.
When a woman relinquishes everything to me, my restraint disappears. The beast that resides within me awakens, and its hunger knows no bounds. Nothing is sacred.
I’ve had my fair share of experiences, but I’m different than Rick. He’s a Dominant who can love with gentle touches and kind words. I’m far more sadistic than he is. I need a woman’s full and ultimate submission. Her body is mine to toy with, to abuse as I wish, but I don’t just take, I give a lot too. She’ll experience pleasure she never knew existed. All by my hand.
Settling at the bar, I ensure I’m facing the booth where my newest pet is sitting with her friend, Amber. Two other girls have arrived who don’t look at all familiar.
I turn to find Dylan wiping down the bar top. He glances up at me. “Can I get you a Jameson?”
“Yeah, can you make sure it’s a three-finger shot? I think I’m here for the night.”
He nods, moving along the bar to get my drink. My brother didn’t keep Irish whiskey in the bar when I arrived, but over the months of me spending my time here, he’s assured there’s always a bottle behind the bar for me. While Dylan is away, I turn my attention back to Madison. Her dress has ridden up her lithe legs. The sparkly orange material shimmers under the lights of the club.
“She’s a beaut,” Dylan says, setting the tumbler on a coaster in front of me. “Too bad her boyfriend is such a prick.”
I snap my gaze to his. “Boyfriend?” My brows furrow in confusion as shock settles at the realization I know nothing about her personal life. Let alone her professional one. All I know is she’s Senator Parker’s daughter.
“Yeah, he’s her dad’s right-hand man,” Dylan intones with a hint of sarcasm on the "right-hand", which makes me wonder what he knows that I don’t. “A twenty-four-year-old prep-school boy,” he continues with frustration evident in his voice. Jealousy. I should laugh, but I feel it too.
“So why is she in here if she has a boyfriend?” I question, lifting the drink to my lips.
“Dunno. She’s here every Friday with her friend. I think he’s away or works late. She never stays after midnight, though. Perhaps she’s like Cinderella.” He chuckles, leaving me to mull over the information he’s just offered.
The whiskey burns its way down my throat in a fiery blaze. I don’t turn away from her, intoxicated just by the sight of her curves in that barely there scrap of silk she thinks is a dress. Which makes me wonder what her panties look like. Madison’s gaze darts to mine as if she can feel the heat of my penetrating stare.
Those pretty, cinnamon-colored eyes that linger a moment too long tell me she wants this. Me. And I’ve never been able to say no to a woman who begs. She may not use words, but she definitely tells me with the soft, sweet smile that lifts her full, rosy lips she’s ready for the predator inside me to devour her beautiful, silken skin.
Turning to Dylan, I lift my empty tumbler.
“Tell me something,” I start. “Does she ever go into the back rooms?”
“Nah, never seen her back there,” he tells me, then shakes his head. “Actually, there was once I saw her watching a scene. Oliver Michaelson had taken a pretty sub into the viewing room. There was a lot of talk about how he’d used her. I saw bits here and there. It was hot. But Madison’s never been with a man back there.”
“Thanks.” I rise, tapping the bar.
“Not having another one?” he questions, raising the empty glass.
Shaking my head, I respond with my new apartment in mind. “No, I have some place to be.” I make my way toward the exit, purposely passing her table. Once out on the street, I zip up the leather jacket I’m wearing. It’s chilly out tonight, but as spring nears, I know it will warm up soon.
“Hey,” a soft melodic voice calls to me. When I spin on my heel, I find her standing there in her pretty little dress. “Leaving so soon?” She sidles up to me, her hips swaying as if she’s ready for what I want to give her. But she’s so far from ready. Her body is the perfect curve of an hourglass. Narrow waist with wide hips. Her tits are more than a handful, and I know they’d look perfect with my dick between them.
“Yeah, places to be, people to see,” I offer, picking up the helmet from my bike. I hate driving, so riding is my choice. The Ducati Panigale V4 is my prized possession since I moved here. Bright orange, like Madison’s dress, it's one of the most beautiful bikes I’ve ever owned. The power is incredible, the speed is out of this world, and all I can think of is having her sitting behind me, holding on as I race down the highway.
“A girlfriend?” she questions, lifting one dark, sculpted eyebrow in question. Her skin has a soft glow from the outside lights, making her seem almost ethereal. I say almost, because there’s nothing angelic about the way she’s currently looking at me.
“No. I don’t do girlfriends.”
She smiles at my response, and I wonder why. If she has a boyfriend, shouldn’t she be with him right now? Instead of standing in a parking lot talking to a man who can and will break her?
“I’d like a ride sometime.” She gestures with her chin at the bike behind me.
I glance back, mainly to hide my smirk. Dragging my gaze back to her, I watch as she nears me in her black fuck-me heels, closing the distance between us even more. We’re merely inches apart. Her body shivers, trailing over her frame, and I wonder if it’s from the chill in the weather, or if I’m affecting her as much as she is me.
“Oh?” Lifting my brow, I wonder if daddy knows she’s dressed like a little harlot asking for a fuck. And I wonder if she takes it like one too. I’d love to find out. My cock is thick and throbbing in my jeans. It’s ready to be let out, to drive into her and tear her in two.
“Yeah,” she quips, folding her arms across her perky chest, which only serves to push her tits up. My tongue darts out, licking my lips as my eyes drink her in slowly.
She’s nothing like the fine wine I pegged her for.
No, this girl is a smoky, spicy bourbon.
“I don’t play with little girls,” I growl, leaning in closer to inhale her scent. Sweet, innocent, and so damn dangerous. One taste and I know I’ll be hooked. My body is tense. Holding onto restraint while so close to her is difficult.
She raises her head, meeting my intense gaze. “I’m not a little girl,” she bites back, causing me to chuckle.
I take a step toward her, causing her to shuffle back. I don’t stop until she’s pressed against some rich asshole’s Ferrari. I run my nose over her cheek, reveling in the perfume that reminds me of sweet citrus. “You’re very little, sweet thing.” I allow my words to feather over her flesh, earning me a tremble. “And a man like me could break you.”
I wait for her to run back inside, but she doesn’t. Instead, she stays in place, still, unmoving, until I lift my hand and trace it along her bare arm. Smooth, silky skin dots with goosebumps at my touch.
Jesus, this woman is far too beautiful for me to violate. There are so many filthy, sinful things I�
��d love to do to her.
“I don’t break easily,” she informs me, an infliction of need in her voice. It’s a gentle tug at my cock, as if she’s trying to jerk me off with her words.
“Be careful what you wish for, Madison Parker, because you might just get it.” I reach for her ass, my big, calloused hand gripping the globe of flesh, squeezing hard until I get the whimper I’ve been aching to hear. And it’s perfection.
“Why don’t you give me your number?” she asks.
I step back, my hand lowering to her hip, holding her in place in case she decides to run away. “Why don’t you give me your phone, sweetheart?” I coax.
She doesn’t think twice about handing me her mobile. I punch my number in, send a quick message to myself, then lock the screen once more. I haven’t saved it because I plan to toy with my food before I eat it.
“Keep it on you tonight when you go to bed. And ensure that pussy of a boyfriend isn’t around.” I turn and saunter to my bike.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she calls to me.
I don’t respond. Pulling on my helmet, I swing my leg over the bike and start the engine. A loud, snarling roar. The vibration between my legs, the power of the machine, and the pretty brunette who has my number have my cock ready to explode.
Madison
I watch the motorcycle fly down the road, my body still reeling from being so close to him. It’s not the first time I’d seen him here, but it was the first time I spoke to him. The dark stubble on his jaw, the ripped jeans, and tattered leather jacket make him look rough, dangerous. But it’s his smoky growl that makes my knees wobble.
I wonder what he’d think of me if he really knew me. Sadness threatens to take over, but I push it back down. I’ve been in the public eye for too long, and having someone like him in my life would never work, but perhaps he could be my secret. Mine alone to enjoy in the dark.
Dad would have a fit if he knew where I was. So would Hudson. My so-called boyfriend. All the fake smiles and lies I have to bear because of my father’s job have left me rebelling. I come here every Friday, when I can get away from their watchful eyes, to enjoy myself.
I may not be a submissive by any means. But my needs do tend to gravitate in the murky waters of dangerous desires. And it seems the dark stranger with the piercing midnight eyes may just be able to give me what I need.
Each day, I wish I could be normal. Just another twenty-one-year-old girl who doesn’t have to be careful what she wants in case her father loses his job or gets bad press for something she’s inadvertently done.
I’ll never be perfect.
I just want my father to accept that.
Turning on my heel, I make my way back into the club. Once I’m seated with my friends, I can’t help my smile faltering when Amber questions, “What did he say?”
“I didn’t catch him. He was gone by the time I got out there,” I respond with my fib. She doesn’t pick up on it because I’ve been taught by my father to lie. For years, I’ve smiled, put on a show for everyone who was watching. Family first, Mads, Daddy would say, even though he wouldn’t know the first thing about love and affection and putting those you care about first.
Sighing, I lift the wine to my lips, savoring every drop like it’s my last. For the next two weeks, I’ll be lazing around the house, if I’m not out at meetings with various charities. I wish my father would allow me to work at the office, but he’s got it in his head I need to be at home, looking after the house. He’s an old-fashioned man, believing women should be in the kitchen, pregnant and barefoot.
Since I turned eighteen, he’s become more adamant that I’m supposed to learn how a woman runs a house. However, being in charge of our staff complement doesn’t fill me with excitement. They cook and clean, ensure the place is spotless, even though there are only two of us who live in the goddamn house.
My mother used to stay as far away from the house as possible. When she ran off with one of the men who worked for my father, I was angry. The fact that she was screwing around on my father was well-known by the people who clean our home. I overheard them talking about it, but I never said a word. Instead, I used to spend my time in my bedroom, where no one can judge me for my own indiscretions.
When I heard she’d died, I didn’t feel a thing. I was numb to any emotion I had for her. The last time I’d seen her, she told me I would have a better life with my father. If only she knew.
“Earth to Madi.” Amber giggles, waving her hand in front of my face. “Where did you disappear to? That hottie really got to you, didn’t he?” she questions, smiling at me with those big eyes.
There are times I feel far removed from my best friend. I think she’d be better off being the daughter of a senator rather than me. I don’t fit into their world.
“No, it’s just been a long day. I think I’m going to head home,” I tell her. Another lie. Just stacking them in the corner for later. Rising from the seat, I offer them a smile. Amber is one of my best friends, but right now, all I want to do is be alone. Or with him. But he left, and my heart hasn’t yet calmed to its normal pace.
“I’m going to talk to one of the hotties at the bar,” Amber informs me. She’s a party animal, and I’m the quiet one. Even though my dad doesn’t know half the stuff that happens when I’m out with her, he seems to like Amber.
“Have fun, babe. I’m just not feeling it tonight.”
She rises, giving me a hug. “Don’t be a stranger. I need you tomorrow for our shopping date,” she tells me excitedly.
“I’ll be there,” I promise, but somehow, I don’t think I’ll make it. My mind is still a mess from the man with the intense indigo eyes. His dangerous aura only seemed to make me want to learn more. My heart hadn’t sped so fast in a long while. Since I was a teenager with a crush. Now an adult, I want that feeling.
Tomorrow, I’ll ask one of my father’s investigators to find him. It can’t be too difficult. I have a photo of him on my phone, which I took sneakily one night as he’d sauntered in here. Heading toward the exit, I find my driver sitting near the door.
“I’m ready,” I tell him.
He nods, rises, and leads me out to the Town Car that’s chauffeured me all my life. Growing up with money afforded me privileges, but all those don’t compare to the one thing I do want. To be a normal girl who’s able to lose control just once. My life has been filled with rules, regulations, and I’ve been followed around by bodyguards ever since I can remember. Perhaps that’s what the stranger did to me. He gave me a glimpse of that danger I’ve always looked for.
That trickle of excitement that causes butterflies to attack me with vengeance. To heat my blood and leave me restless at night when I’m alone in bed. My body burns for it. It aches so deep within me I feel it in my soul. I want that searing heat of a man’s touch. His gaze boring into me as if he’s trying to rip me apart.
I want passion.
For him to unleash his wrath on me.
As much as I love Amber, shopping for the latest Dior or Versace isn’t on my ultimate to-do list. No, I need him.
The car weaves through the darkened streets as I take in the city lights. There’s something magical about a city. It’s alive even in the dark. It calls to the heart of you, begging for you to enjoy what secrets it hides.
Moments later, the car stills. “We’re here, Ms. Parker,” Ronald tells me, and I realize I’d been lost in my own head once more.
“Thank you, Ronnie.” I smile, exiting the car. He hates when I call him that. But when someone has known you your whole life, they make exceptions for your inadequacies. Making my way up to the door, I unlock and shove it open to find the lamps leading down the hall to the kitchen glowing with the faint yellow bulbs. Those are the only lights on, and I recall Daddy telling me he’d be home late from the function tonight.
Sighing, I drop my keys in the bowl at the entrance and head up the stairs to my bedroom. The space has been my own all my life. A place where I can be myself.
The black curtains, orange throw cushions, along with soft gray walls and the off-white carpet make it palatable. The rest of the house is filled with my mother’s taste in furnishings.
I have a king-sized bed against one wall, windows which overlook the back gardens toward the left of my bed where I can see the moon on a clear night just beside it, a walk-in closet with more space than I know what to do with, and a private bathroom attached.
Pulling off my shoes, I revel in the soft cushion of the carpet. Thick and warm against my sore feet. I hate wearing heels, but going to Seven Sins means I have to dress up. I enjoy the elegance of the club rather than wearing next to nothing and heading out to the seedy places Amber prefers at times.
What I want is something vastly different. I need to be taken. Harsh and rough, made to feel. Since I turned thirteen, I knew I wasn’t like other girls. Being different caused me to get bullied every day. I never had friends. I didn’t go to house parties like the rest of the kids did. I was teased my whole school life. The bigger girl with the braces. Even now, when I think back, it hurts. Nobody realizes just how much words can damage.
Nobody would recognize me if they saw me right now. I was always curvy. Bigger than the rest of the petite girls who could wear anything on the racks. I would hide behind floppy sweaters and loose-fitting tees. But that’s not the only reason I hid.
Blinking the tears away, I flop onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling. When I’m overwhelmed, the sadness resurfaces. It slams into me, reminding me I’m human. We can hurt. We can bruise so easily. It’s those scars I hide beneath the expensive dresses I wear.
I pull open my drawer and find my journal waiting for me. It’s been years since I owned my first one. Writing my thoughts have helped, but sometimes I need more. I want the pain to leave my body one way or another.
Even though I know a scene might satiate the craving I have, there’s never been someone I trusted enough to accept an offer.
Not even Hudson has ever once given me what I crave so much. When I asked him to spank me, he blanched at the thought. And even with him, there isn’t heat or desire.
