by Linnea May
The Violent Series
Complete Boxed Set
LINNEA MAY
Content
The Violent Series
Copyright
Violent Delights
Prolog
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Epilog
Violent Cravings
Prolog
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilog
Violent Hearts
Prolog
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilog
Violent Desires
Prolog
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilog
Violent Ends
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Also by Linnea May
Copyright © 2018 by Linnea May
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
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The Violent Series
Four sexy Billionaires, four stories of dark seduction, twisted desires and fateful encounters - all in one place for the very first time!
Plus exclusive bonus content!
This collection contains the entire VIOLENT series, consisting of:
1. VIOLENT DELIGHTS
2. VIOLENT CRAVINGS
3. VIOLENT HEARTS
4. VIOLENT DESIRES
… and the bonus epilog VIOLENT ENDS – available only in this bundle for a limited time!
Violent Delights
Blurb
She agreed to play. She agreed to be mine.
I won't let her change the rules of the game.
Violence has always been part of my life. I was angry as a child, underchallenged and neglected, with no outlet for my dangerous rage.
Years have passed, and I’m no longer a victim of my own aggression.
I’m in control now.
A control that many seek to surrender.
Just like her.
My Pet.
The beautiful blonde who agreed to submit to my will.
She agreed to be kidnapped and locked away until our contract is over.
She’s here to play a role.
But her defiance seems too real, her terror too honest. Watching her struggle is bone-chilling.
She’s getting to me like no one ever has before, seizing a heart that cannot love.
Or so I thought...
„These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness.”
– William Shakespeare
Prolog
Joseph
She is the best one yet.
I have played this game with many girls before, but no one ever caught my attention like she does.
She’s waiting for me, kneeling with her thighs spread wide, her perky ass resting on her ankles, her back already arched, chest pushed forward, her neck stretched, her head held high, and the focus of her eyes is lowered to the flo
or. Her hands are resting, palms up, on her thighs.
The perfect pose of the pleasure slave.
Her chest is heaving in a steady rhythm and her eyelashes flicker when she notices me approaching.
It’s the most alluring sight.
My Pet.
There is a dark side to everyone, they say. While that may be true, I doubt that most people’s dark sides even come close to those that cast their sinister shadow over the part of myself that I keep hidden.
I’m consumed by the fury of a raging beast, something so dark and violent that even I was scared of myself once. I tried to ignore its existence, tried to push it away, but the effort was futile and only led to more chaos.
However, I am no longer that furious boy I used to be.
Violence has always been a part of my life, but it no longer controls me.
Now I’m the one in control.
I know who I am, I know how to deal with the beast raging inside, and I know what I need. I found what helps me to cope, and no one has to become part of it, unless they want to.
This is what’s at the heart of it all.
Choice.
Consent.
Rules.
A safe setting.
Every time I browse through the catalog of women who are willing to offer themselves to me, I am confronted with the reality of human psychology. For every sick person out there with these dark desires and needs, there is someone else who is willing to serve those demands. Together they meet the needs of each other’s twisted minds and bodies.
We humans, as a species, are pretty fucked up.
It’s a glorious thing.
My Pet is here because she chose to be here, even though the reality of it may frighten her. She agreed to my offer to buy her, and she’s proving to be the perfect Pet, tailored exactly to fit my desires.
I have been this agency’s client long enough for them to understand my personal tastes right down to the most minute detail. They know what I want from these women, they know what I will do to them, they know what traits a woman must possess, not only in regards to her physical attributes, but also her psychological makeup. And they know what I am willing to pay to satisfy my wishes.
Thirty-nine days, just the two of us, no safe word, no escape. Absolute surrender to my will.
She has entered a world of contradictions, a mix of freedom and discipline doled out in equal measure. One cannot exist without the other. She remains under the agency’s protection, as do I.
However, these thirty-nine days belong to me, and there is little to no way for her to break the established routine. I want to make every second count.
I don’t like interruptions. I need for both of us to be totally immersed, otherwise our arrangement doesn’t serve its purpose.
Its purpose to fulfill my darkest needs.
To satisfy my desires.
To keep me sane.
We are playing a game that few are able to handle. It’s more than just simple role playing in the bedroom. This feels as real as it can get. The only difference is that she knows she will get out alive at the end of it. She will return to freedom, to real life, and be an incredibly wealthy woman once our thirty-nine days are over, and she will never hear from me again.
This is how it works, and this is how it has to work.
She lets out a soft sigh when I caress her cheek, leaning gently into my touch instead of jerking away from it as she did only a few days ago.
She is different. Her defiance seems real, her struggle at times too much to bear, even for me.
She is here to be trained, for me to hurt her, to teach her. But I struggle to maintain my harsh demeanor. I struggle to train and inflict torture on her as I did to all the others before.
Because there is something special about her. Something that makes all of this feel so very fucking wrong.
Something is off with her. Very, very off.
Chapter 1
Liana
This has been the worst week of my life. You may think I am exaggerating, but I am not.
Everything went to shit this week. That is the plain and simple truth.
It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday night, and I’m sitting at the bar of a rundown neighborhood joint, sipping on a cheap bourbon and feeling sorry for myself. I hate bourbon, I’ve never been to this place before and I’m comically overdressed. I bet half of the slobs here think I am a hooker, because I look so out of place.
I don’t even know where I am. I have never been in this area of the city before. I just ended up in this place after wandering the streets for hours, lost in thought and unwilling to go back to my empty house. Walking keeps me in balance, it always has. It’s as if the dark thoughts can’t catch me as long as I just keep moving, walking. I don’t want to go home and face the horrors of this past week.
Faced with the prospect of spending the weekend in my empty place, I had started walking as soon as I left the office, but quickly realized that my heels are not meant for this. I couldn’t take them off because it’s too cold, so I just stumbled into the first bar I came to, which was this little shit hole. I’ve been dwelling in my pain for the past hour, staring at nothing and drinking this God-awful bourbon, afraid to go home.
It’s pathetic, I know, but so appropriate, considering the turn my life has taken.
I’m not saying my life was glorious before. No, it definitely wasn’t. But I had been content and felt no need to change anything. First of all, I had a job. Nothing special. I wasn’t changing the world or anything, but it paid the bills and I enjoyed it. I worked at the university as the secretary to a muddle-headed professor. He may have been brilliant in his field, but he was unable to master simpler things, such as responding to emails, creating PowerPoint presentations, and searching the university’s intranet.
Professor Miller appreciated my work. He was the nicest man I’ve ever met, always greeting me with a smile, and he was so easy to impress with simple things that come easy to any millennial. He was an older gentleman with very polite manners, who thanked me profusely for every little thing I did. Working for him was easy, it was predictable. My job with him was the safe constant I needed in my life.
And now it’s gone.
He’s gone.
Professor Miller died in an accident, hit by a passing car as he was crossing the street, lost in his own world and not paying attention. When he died, my job died, as well. Losing him was more than just a pay-the-bills job-related tragedy: I lost my safe and secure haven, the calm and reliable constant in my life that kept me sane after kicking Luke out of my life.
Luke. My ex-boyfriend. The son of a bitch who had the audacity to fuck another girl in our bed, and on our sheets, when he thought I was out of town. Yes, he really was that stupid. Or maybe I’m the stupid one for trusting him, considering he was always so insecure. Maybe that should have clued me in that maybe he was the problem?
I will never forget the expression on his face when I walked through the door. I had arrived back home a day early, because I couldn’t stand another minute with my relatives who I had been visiting. I wanted to surprise him, bearing those dumb chocolates he likes, ready to make up from another awful fight we had had the day before I left.
I did surprise him, but not in the way I imagined.
I caught him in the act, yet he was the one who’d accused me time and again of cheating, because of my “sick” needs, as he put it. He never understood me. He lacked the decency to even listen to me when I tried to talk with him about it. Every time I summoned the courage to talk about my deepest desires, he looked at me with that appalled and disgusted look on his face and told me that I needed therapy. As if I wasn’t feeling weird enough about it already.
I should have known that we weren’t meant to be together, but still I clung on, hoping that eventually things would work out. I couldn’t let go of him, or rather, I couldn’t let go of the idea of us together. In a way, I should be grateful that this happened. Finding him screwing ano
ther girl was just the kick I needed to finally free myself of him.
My week started by throwing Luke out of the apartment that we’ve been living in together for more than nine months - and my week ended with me losing my job when my boss was killed. Everything happened so fast, one atrocious thing after another. I caught Luke on Sunday, threw him out on Monday, Professor Miller was hit by a car on Wednesday and died on Thursday, and today I was told that I will no longer be needed once the professor’s office is cleaned out.
Everybody was visibly upset about Professor Miller’s death—his colleagues, the assistants, the students—but they all treated me like I was a machine, as if I wouldn’t mourn his death just as much as they did. After all, I’m just a secretary, not his academic equal, and I wouldn’t be someone who had any close ties to him - or so they think. While others cried, walked around in shock, and consoled one another, I was bombarded with things that had to be organized and done. The cherry on top was when I was called into the Dean’s office and advised that because the funding for my position was tied directly to his teaching position – and since the position wouldn’t be filled until a national search was conducted and it could take up to a year – my secretarial position was no longer needed. Seriously?
So here I am. Drinking shitty bourbon in a shitty bar. All by myself. Drowning in self-pity at the mess that is my life.
It doesn’t help that this woman is sitting across from me. That damn Barbie doll with her ridiculous bright red fur coat. It’s so hideous-looking, but it’s a perfect match for its owner. She looks just like the girl I caught Luke with. A dumb blonde, with fake lashes, fake nails, fake tits, fake everything. Her fat lips are painted in a ridiculously bright hooker red that matches her ugly fur coat. I bet she really is a hooker. She’s by herself, sipping on a bourbon just like I am, and constantly checking the time and watching the door of the bar. She’s probably waiting for a john.
I was already here when she walked in, and she caught my attention from the start, not only because of that hideous coat and her resemblance to that other bitch, but because she was wearing a black mask when she came in. It was covering up most of her face. As soon as she sat down, she took it off and placed it on the counter right next to her drink.
