“Olivia.”

A soft voice invaded the darkness. I heard it come from beyond the high walls of the pit. It couldn’t have been Jack, he was laying at my feet; cold and lifeless. His thick blood slick between my fingers as I toyed the sharp blade against my palms.

Was I dead? Could it be calling me to my next destination? No, it was too sweet to be from hell. That would be the only place I’d be headed after what I’d done. Guilt gripped my heart. I had to be alive. That’s the only way I’d still feel so much.

“Olivia.”

The voice sounded familiar. A name flicked to mind, Lucy. Like being dragged through time, I was transported back to the present. An awakening that came with relief and regret. It was a dream, but the pain was real. I was glad to be away from the tormented memories, but disheartened I was still here. Still breathing and still shouldering the unbearable guilt of my actions.

I opened my eyes and scanned the bleakness of the cell. Maybe this is what I deserved. This was my personal living hell, complete with its very own Lucifer.

“Olivia.” Lucy’s voice had become insistent in its own delicate way; pushing aside my self-pity and raising a pang of irritation.

“What?” I snapped.

“Are you awake?”

She seemed like a sweet girl, but far from the sharpest tool in the shed. “I am now.”

Taking care to put the weight on my thigh, I rolled up to a seated position. Trying not to disturb the welts that were still raw under my jeans. The chain hung down my back, and the metal closed against my throat. I turned the padlock and moved the chain around to the front. To have this damn collar off would be a pleasure all of its own.

“It’s gonna be breakfast soon.”

I rubbed my face and cleared the sleep from my eyes. “Yeah, and…?”

“You need to eat it.”

“I know.”

As if I needed reminding of yesterday’s fun and games. The three sharp welts on my arse were hint enough. He’d left me alone after my punishment. Only coming back down to take Lucy upstairs for the evening. While I sat alone contemplating my behaviour like a naughty child. I must’ve been asleep by the time he brought her back. The rumbling nausea in my stomach made me want to eat today.

“You should just do what he says. He can be kind of nice then.”

I scoffed. “That isn’t a word I’d use to describe him.”

“He’s not that bad if you follow the rules. I’d never dare answer back like you. I thought he would really hurt you yesterday.”

“He did. Haven’t you had the pleasure of meeting the cane?”

“No.” She said it like it was a ridiculous notion.

“You haven’t?”

“He’s grabbed my face a few times, and he scares me, but he’s never hurt me like that.”

“He’s never hit you at all?” Either, she was a special case, or I was.

“No, but I do what he says, anyway. I’d rather be here than with some pervert.”

She knew she would be sold. I could see why she’d prefer the devil she knew. “Has he ever done anything else to you?”

“Like what?”

“Y’know, other things?”

“Oh. No, nothing like that.”

“Nothing?”

“He took me to this place where there were other men a few days ago. One of them wanted to do things. Sir wouldn’t let him.”

“What other men? What place?”

“I don’t know. It was a long drive in the van to get there. I had no idea who the other men were.”

“How long was the drive? Can you remember their names? What did they look like?” I doubted her answers would be useful, but any information could give me a better idea of what could happen to me.

“I don’t know. Like, three or four hours away. It felt like forever. There were four other men. One was fat and bald. He was the sleaze that wanted to take me upstairs. I hated him. Another was older and tall, mean looking. He scared me. I can’t remember his name. The last two didn’t speak, they just watched.”

“The older guy. Did he go by the name Marcus, by any chance?”

“Yeah, that sounds right. Do you know him?”

“No, but I know of him.”

The door lock shifted and sent metallic clunks echoing around the cells. Nerves prickled the hairs on my arms as dread crept into my thoughts. What the hell would today’s confrontation bring?

He entered Lucy’s cell and greeted her the same as yesterday. She replied as polite as ever. I no longer abhorred the way she folded to him. It was understandable. The bars slid shut and my stomach pitted knowing he was coming to see me next.

“Good Morning, princess.”

I raised my head to see his amused face pressed into the bars. It made wet strands of his dark, wavy hair cling to the side of his forehead. He watched me intently. His eyes lit with interest as he waited for my reaction. I glanced to find the plate, but his hands were empty. “No breakfast today?”

His grin widened. “Are you hungry?”

I stared at the stones on the floor. “Yes.”

“Then we’d better get you something.”

He came in and crouched before me, lifting my chin and forcing me to look at him. My chest tightened as I studied his sculpted face. His striking eyes glistened from the shadows of his deep brow, and his high cheekbones cut at just the right angle to make his cheeks square against his wide, handsome jaw. He was stunning, but the devil often appears in beautiful form.

His full lips quirked at the corners as he studied me. “Are you going to behave today?”

I nodded. “I’ll try.”

His hazel eyes lit as he laughed. “That’s a big improvement.”

He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the collar from my neck. It was nice to rub away the weight of the pinching metal. It gave me a small semblance of freedom. One of movement and of mind.

“We’re going upstairs. I shouldn’t have to tell you what will happen if you try to run.”

I nodded, knowing full well what he’d do once he caught me. It surprised me he’d still take the risk.

He stood and gestured towards the open door. “After you.”

I shifted the weight on my knees and stood. It took another nod and gesture from him before I made my way from the cell. I couldn’t shake off the feeling he was leading me into a trap. Lucy looked up and nodded as we passed. Her way of saying go with it, I guessed.

Both doors leading up to the kitchen were open. The urge to make a break for it surged into my legs. There was little between me and the outside world beyond. I thought better of it. Even if I got out of the kitchen, he’d only run me down in the fields. I knew how that turned out.

The smell of porridge caught my nose and the promise of food switched my focus. My hunger was too rabid to run. I climbed the stairs and made my way into the bright kitchen. It was warmer than I remembered, the bare walls didn’t seem so baron. After the gloom of the cells, however, any home comfort would be welcome. The door locked, and he strolled over to the stove to stir the simmering pan.

“Would porridge be more fitting for your palate, milady?”

I smiled, starting to see the funny side in his digs. It pissed me off as much as ever, but I had to admit, he had a sense of humour. “Yes, porridge would be acceptable.”

He flicked his free hand towards the table. “Take a seat.”

I pulled out the chair closest. He watched as I eased down. Mindful of my raw welts.

“Still sore?”

“What do you think?” I snapped.

His face dropped into a dead stare.

I readjusted my tone with a roll of my eyes. “Yes, it hurts.”

“Breakfast first, then we’ll sort the bruising. Take these in the meantime.”

He opened one of the top cupboards and pulled out a bottle of tablets. Shaking a couple into his hand, he filled a glass with water and brought them over. I recoiled back as he held them out for me to take.

“They’re just paracetamol, don’t worry.”

I studied his face and searched for a reason not to take them. He gave me nothing but a sigh as he placed them on the table. Then strolled back to the cupboard to fetch the bottle.

“I have no desire or need to drug you. Show a little trust.”

I scoffed. “Trust? Seriously?”

He slammed the paracetamol bottle on the table then stared at me. There was no anger on his face. His eyes looked sincere.

“Yes. I’m not a monster, Olivia. Not like you think.” He picked up one tablet and placed it in his mouth before grabbing the water to wash it down. “I’ll only hurt you if you make me.” He leant into my face to make his point. “Do as you’re told, and we’ll get along just fine.”

He walked back to the cupboard and pulled out two bowls. I opened the tablets, took one out and washed it down with the tablet from the table.

He smiled as he looked over from filling the bowls. “Should only be ten minutes or so before you pass out.”

I glared at him. “What?”

He held up his hand and gave me a wry smile. “I’m kidding. Chill out.”

I huffed at his nerve. “Not a great time for jokes, do you think?”

He placed the bowls down and flashed me his cocky smirk. “Yeah, well, something needs to lighten the mood around here.”

“How about you let me go? That’d do the trick.”

He laughed. “Now whose the one being funny?”

Grabbing two spoons from the drainer and some honey off the side, he placed them on the table and sat in the chair next to me. I reached for the jar and spooned a giant helping onto my porridge. He watched as I stirred it in, a knowing smile on his face.

“What? I love honey.”

His smile widened. “Thought so.”

I ate quickly. Not caring about table etiquette or small talk. It tasted too good, and I was far too hungry to interrupt my shovelling with pleasantries. He made me coffee, and I savoured the cup in both hands as soon as I’d finished eating. I’d only gone a day without but it felt like weeks. The smell alone was enough to induce toe curling.

He finished up and cleared the bowls while I nursed the caffeine. Then cleared his throat and gestured into the hallway with his head.

“Right, upstairs.”

My brows furrowed as I glared. “Why?”

He laughed. “I imagine you’d like to shower and change at some point?”

It sounded too good to be true. “I’d love that.”

“Come on then. I don’t have all day to pander to your needs, princess.”

I downed what was left of my coffee, made my way through the hallway and up the stairs. The landing led off on to three bedrooms I could see. Each furnished with old but sturdy furniture. Large windows let in the morning brightness through the two open doors.

“To your left,” he said.

At the top of the stairs, I paused at what must have been the master bedroom. It was the only one lived in. Clothes hung from the back of a leather armchair; all black, naturally. The dresser held a few toiletries, a watch and an old picture of a woman in a battered silver frame. It was the only personal item I’d seen in the house. She was pretty, in her early thirties when the picture was taken.

He came up behind me and whispered in my ear. “That’s not the bathroom.”

I spun and found his face inches from mine. I stood my ground and held his eyes as I stared back, studying the intricacy of colour in his gold and green irises. “Congratulations on stating the obvious.”

He cocked his head and pointed to the door at the end. “That one.”

“Who’s the woman in the photo?”

A half-smile curled his mouth, but I could tell it was a vain attempt to hide his gritted teeth. “No one. Go.”

“Who is she?”

He gripped my throat and pushed me back against the door frame. I gasped as I hit the wood. Pinned under his huge frame, the weight of his presence dominated every one of my senses. The fresh from the shower smell still lingered on his skin. His breath was heavy in my ears as he leant in closer. I could feel the heat radiating off him as his chest closed in to mine.

He was overwhelming, and he had the power to take all he wanted from me. What scared me the most, was the realisation I wouldn’t resist.

I held his intense eyes as he smoothed the hair from my face with his free hand.

“Am I going to have trouble from you again?”

“No.” My voice was low and raspy.

“Are you going to head to the bathroom and stop asking questions?”

“Yes.”

He held me there, searching my eyes as he ran his fingers through my hair. His delicate touch a stark contrast to his grip around my throat. He inhaled deeply and stepped back as he let me go. I shrunk into the doorframe. My need held me steadfast.

He shook his head, chewing his lip as if he was trying to bite back the anger. “Why are you still stood there?”

He grabbed my hair and dragged me to the far door. The pain ripped at my scalp. He opened it wide and pushed me through.

“Was that so hard?”

I closed my eyes against the growing frustration, with him and his mood swings. He annoyed the hell out of me, but what irritated me more was my damn attraction to him.

How did this arsehole thrill me so much? Of all the shitty, brutish, devious men out there, I had to be attracted to the worst. “No, it wasn’t.”

I glanced around the large bathroom trying to get my focus elsewhere. A roll top bath dominated the room and shower curtains fell to the side of on old, mixer shower head. A fresh towel sat on the top of a wicker unit next to the sink, and a brand new toothbrush laid on top of that. It was a nice, clean country-style bathroom, and a shower was just the thing I needed to clear my head.

“There are clean clothes on the side.”

Spinning to face him, he gestured his head towards a wicker unit on the other side of the room. I flicked through the bundle. Black skinny jeans in my size. A white shirt similar to the one I had on, and a black waterfall fronted cardigan. Underneath those were clean underwear and socks.

I looked at him bemused. “Do you keep these in stock?”

He shook his head. “No. I went out for those, yesterday.”

“You went shopping for me? But they’re all the right size.”

“You’re not that hard to size up, princess.”

I smirked. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He cocked his head, and the amusement returned to his eyes. “You’d be surprised.”

Replacing the clothes, I walked over to the bath and turned on the hot tap for the shower. The water wasn’t as scolding as I’d like, but it would be hot enough to clear my head. I spun and placed my hands on my hips. “Are you going to stand there and watch?”

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Does that mean you have to watch me undress?”

The glint in his eyes betrayed his disappointed sigh. “I guess not.”

He turned and faced out onto the landing, leaning on the doorframe. I snatched my moment of privacy, and undressed. Stepping over the side of the bath and pulling the curtain before he had the chance to turn around. He didn’t.

The water cascaded in a haze of heat and mist. It would’ve been easy to spend hours soaking, but I knew he’d be rushing me out before long. I indulged a few moments longer, then reached for the first shampoo. I stopped when a familiar bottle caught my eye. Picking it up instead, I flicked the lid and took in the strong scent of honey. “This is my brand.”

“What?”

“The shampoo. It’s my brand.”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have my brand?”

“I thought you’d prefer something familiar.”

Why would that cross his mind? He’s holding me captive, not treating me to a spa getaway. “How did you even know which one I liked?”

“Your hair smells of honey. I made an informed guess. Is it an issue?”

“No.” At least, I didn’t think so.

I lathered my hair as I thought about his uncharacteristic gestures. My shampoo, the right clothes, possibly even breakfast this morning. It didn’t add up. They may have been small acts, but they came from kind thoughts. Selfless gestures shouldn’t be high on the agenda for a guy who makes a living by beating and selling women. Why would he bother?

I rinsed and washed before I prepared for the disappointment of leaving the warm shower. Glancing around the curtain, I checked he was still facing the opposite direction, then grabbed the towel and got out.

“There’s a tub of cream by the sink. Use it on your arse. It’ll help the bruises heal.”

I dried and did as I was told. That kindness I could at least see the reasoning behind. I dressed into my fresh clothes, finished up and brushed my hair.

“Is it safe to turn around?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

He turned and folded his arms. I glanced at him through the mirror and caught him eying me over. Not in the leery way I was used to, it was more akin to studying me. Taking in my presence like a puzzle he was trying to solve.

His eyes met mine, and he smiled. “Feel better?”

“Considerably.”

I couldn’t figure him out. If he was just a mindless brute, then I’d know what to expect, but there seemed to be more to him than the usual thuggish savagery. He was twisted, sure, but there was something about him I couldn’t put my finger on.

Unable to contain the question any longer, I turned to study him back. “Why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“This. Sell women?”

His smile dropped, and he pulled his arms closer into his chest. “Why does anyone do anything? Money.”

“Working in a bank would get you that. There has to be more of a reason than cold, hard cash to do something like this. Why do you do it?”

“Why do you peddle drugs?”

“I was born into it.”

“I could say the same.”

My eyebrows raised. “Could you?”

The lines around his eyes creased as he glared at me. His full lips pressed together to create a thin line. “I could, but I didn’t.”

I’d touched a nerve. Any sane person would have let it lie, but I had to know, punishment be damned. A knot tightened in my stomach as I prepared to poke him with a sharp stick. “How could you be born into this?”

I watched his knuckles turn white as he balled his fist against his arm.

“Your mother, was she… someone’s property?”

He lunged forward and gripped my jaw hard, pushing me back over the sink so my toes barely touched the floor. My hammering heartbeat blended with his as he crushed his powerful body against mine.

“My past is none of your concern. Don’t ask again.”

The low gravel of his voice rolled through my chest. The knot in my stomach twisted, but the burgeoning heat between my legs spurred me on. “She’s the woman in the photo, isn’t she?”

His teeth ground together, clicking as he churned his jaw. “Why do you continue to push me when you know what’ll happen?” The anger almost hid the questioning as his hazel eyes searched mine. “Do you want me to punish you?”

A smile curled on my lips which surprised me as much as him.

His eyebrows raised before they softened and he leant in closer. “You do.”

Releasing my jaw, he clenched his fists in my hair. His mouth hovered a breath over mine. I gasped as I tried to raise up to meet him, but he held me firm, commanding my patience as my lips reached for his.

“You want me.” He brushed his lips against mine as he spoke, sending soft currents rippling across my face and neck.

“Yes,” I sighed.

His breath hitched, drawing the air from my throat as he pressed his mouth onto my own. The firm pressure of his warm lips overpowered all thought in my mind. I lost myself to his possession, bowing to the demands of his eager kiss.

A longing ignited deep in my stomach as I matched his hungry advances. Our tongues danced between ragged breaths and my craving for him grew with every lap and taste. The harder he kissed me, the more I yearned for him.

Wrapping my arms around his back, I clawed him closer. His hard muscles coiling beneath my fingers as he moved. The thought of his sculpted body lying hot, naked and bearing down on me surged fresh desire through my already quivering core.

His impatient hands grasped at my body as they travelled to my waist and he lifted me onto the sink. I clasped my legs around him and writhed. The slickness growing as I pressed up against his hardening erection. My clit alight with the friction.

He traced his mouth down my cheek. My lips burned with the absence of his harsh kiss. He nipped his teeth along my jawline and the sharp surges pulsed through my veins. I wanted all of him, all the pain and all the pleasure.

Edging his lips onto my neck, he nuzzled close before biting my skin. The alternating sensations sent my nerves into overdrive. Every kiss and every bite amplified a thousand times. I moaned as a bite sank hard into my throat. The sound made his entire body tense around me. His muscles clenched tight as if he were about to attack.

My breath hitched, preparing for a sudden charge that didn’t come. He hesitated, holding his head away from my neck. His hot, short breaths sent vibrations rippling over my skin. I ached to feel more. I lowered my head to meet his, and he held my face in his trembling hands. Resting his forehead on my own and lingering just out of reach of my advances. His eyes were heavy, and his lips twitched as if they wanted to meet mine, but the frustration on his furrowed brow told of a battle raging in his thoughts.

“No.” He lifted me from the sink and placed me on my feet. Before he stepped back and rubbed his forehead with his hand. His lips pressed together in a hard, unforgiving line. “No.”

I stepped towards him desperate to be back where we were, but he held his hand out to stop me. Then pointed out the door.

“Downstairs. Now.”

“What’s wrong?” I couldn’t understand why he’d turned so cold, so suddenly.

“Downstairs. Now!” His voice held back an anger which unnerved me.

“What’s going…”

“Go!” His shout made me flinch, and I stood there trying to figure out what I’d done.

He growled and grabbed my arm, pulling me from the bathroom.

I tried to yank myself free. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He stopped and scowled. Then lunged forward, picked me up by the thighs, and hoisted me over his shoulder. I pounded on his back in frustration, but I knew there was nothing I could do. He’d turned back into psycho brute, and I was going to the basement, regardless. He hurried me downstairs, unlocked the basement door and headed down to my cell.