My bedroom is bathed in the soft orange glow of sunrise. There’s a melody playing through the speakers of my stereo as I stare up at the ceiling. My mind, as always, is on my father’s upcoming trip. When he’s away for weeks on end, I feel as if I’m alone in the world.

When he’s gone, I have to be the face of the Parker household. Sometimes I feel like the princess locked in the tower. Somewhere high above the world so nobody can find me; there’s no excitement, merely duty.

Even Hudson, the boy I’m meant to be dating—and yes, I call him that because he’s not much older than me—even he doesn’t offer me the life I want, and I know he never will. When I think about excitement, I remember the dark-haired stranger in Seven Sins. I don’t know him, but when I felt his gaze on me, every part of my body responded.

There was an intensity in his stare that left me breathless. I was almost certain he’d come talk to me, but he never did. He sat at the bar, watching, as if he was the hunter and I was the prey.

He seemed to exude darkness and danger. Something I’d become accustomed to with my father’s line of work. Being a senator’s daughter puts me in all kinds of situations where I could be hurt, and that’s why my father has bodyguards who follow me around as if I’m some sort of celebrity. And I suppose I am in a way.

Which brings me back to Seven Sins, the club I frequent with Amber. It’s the safest place in town because of the amount of security. And the anonymity allows me freedom to enjoy a glass of wine without being bombarded by the press.

I started going there a year ago, but since I first saw him six months ago, I’ve had another reason to go. When I saw him there tonight, I was sitting with Amber, and while she sat giggling about some guy, my eyes were locked on him. I watched as he moved through the crowd. His gaze flitting over to me every few moments. And then I saw him take a woman to the back of the club.

We all know what happens back there. Each room is filled with instruments that can bring pain or pleasure. Since I learned more about it, I’ve wanted to go back there, to experience it for myself. Perhaps the pain a man like him gives will allow me the release I crave. But for some reason, I’ve just never had the courage to go into those rooms, to ask a man to dole out pain I know will give me the reprieve I need.

The door to my bedroom flies open, and Hudson saunters in as if he owns the house, this room. He’s already dressed in a three-piece suit, and for a twenty-four-year-old guy, he looks far-too distinguished.

Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great that he takes care of himself. But I want someone who’s rough around the edges. Someone who is almost as uncomfortable in a suit as he is comfortable in black leathers and ripped jeans.

A man.

Dangerous.

And perhaps deadly.

“Madi.” Hudson’s voice draws me back to the present, to my bedroom.

I scoot up in bed, my brows knitting in confusion. “Where’s my dad?”

“He’s just left for the office. I thought I’d come up and say hi,” he tells me, settling on my bed. His hand reaches out for my leg and rests on my knee, giving it a playful squeeze. The gesture should be sweet, caring, but instead it makes me cringe.

“Won’t you be late to the office?”

He shakes his head, his eyes boring into me. “I figured we could get reacquainted.” He leans in closer, his mouth on mine in an instant. He dips his tongue between my lips. The kiss, although gentle, is not searing. There’s nothing behind it. It’s purely mechanical. I allow him to do what he needs as he pushes the blankets aside.

When he moves back to shove my legs apart, I see the wince on his face when he sees them. Those reminders of who I used to be. A teenager struggling with herself. A girl whose mother left her to fend for herself in a world of ruthless politics and a father who doesn’t care. When my father told me that she’d died on a cruise ship after having a heart attack, I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel anything for her.

“We don’t have to do this,” I tell him, knowing he hates imperfection. He doesn’t like seeing what I used to do to myself in the dark of night. No, Hudson wants someone who’s flawless. Too bad that’s not me. It never will be.

He looks at me like I’m nothing more than a means to an end, and in a way, I am. He settles himself between my thighs without any foreplay. There’s no need to get undressed, no need to see more of my flaws. He pulls out his already hard cock and shoves my panties aside. He doesn’t touch me. I’m not wet, and when he thrusts inside, it causes me to cry out, not in pleasure, but in searing pain.

He continues to move, sliding in and out of me. And with each thrust, my body slowly responds, growing slick for more, for something other than this cold, mechanical shit we do.

He grunts seconds later, then abruptly pulls out of me, his fist around his cock as he spurts his sticky release all over my thighs. I lie there, angry and unsatisfied as always. Hudson smirks, righting himself as he pulls two tissues from the box on my nightstand.

“That was amazing, baby.” He grins. “I have to go. I’ll be late.” With that, he turns, leaving me to clean up his filth.

Taking the tissues, I wipe myself down, frustrated from the asshole thinking he owns me. My father would be so happy to see us walk down the aisle. But I’ll never agree to it. Daddy may rule my life in most respects, but this is something I’ll refuse until I breathe my last breath.

Pushing off the bed, I head to the bathroom. I don’t want to get ready for the day ahead, but I’ll need to if my father flies out this week. There must be a schedule of public appearances waiting for me already.

Sighing, I turn on the shower, stepping under the warming spray. I hope the water can ease the tension in my muscles. I lather up with the orange blossom body wash, inhaling the sweet citrus scent.

The ache between my legs beckons, and I close my eyes, picturing the dark-haired man in his leather jacket. Those piercing eyes that remind me of a midnight sky, which bore deep within me. My fingers move over my clit, teasing and taunting it, and I wonder how his thick, calloused digits would feel as they explored me.

The smirk that curls his lips at times is at the forefront of my mind. Those dirty intentions that ghost along my flesh, his lips, his strong arms. “Oh god,” I whimper as an orgasm rakes through me, causing my knees to buckle.

When I open my eyes, I can’t help smiling. Somehow, I’ll seduce him. Maybe he likes the sweet, innocent look, or even the sultry vixen. I’ll find out soon enough.

Mr. Dark and Dangerous, I want you. I want you to show me how illicit you can be.