by Dani René
KNEEL
Sins of Seven Series
Dani René
Edited by
Shana Vanterpool
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
Contents
WARNING
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
Playlist
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Stalk Me
Also by Dani René
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 things 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 commanding alphas and feisty heroines.
The Sins of Seven revolves 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, they don’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.
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 slinky a 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, gaggin
g 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.
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 have no idea how to probably 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 hides 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 beautifu
l 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.
