Gulping the harsh alcohol, I watch the stars twinkle in the dark sky. I put her to bed after I fucked her harshly, bent over taking my cane, like she was born to do it. This girl has fractured the walls I built. I don’t know how to care for someone. If I allow her in, I’ll never get her out.

I’m having a drink on the terrace, watching the lights flicker in the distance with my mind on two women. My wife who’s probably watching me from heaven wondering what the fuck is going on. And the other is the woman who’s asleep in a bed I’d set her in. The first of my Toys to ever see more of my house than the playroom.

The night air is cool, but it does nothing to quell the blood that races through my veins. She’s everything I ever needed in a woman, but before I can even consider more, I need to know what happened to her. Why she’s so fucking broken. Every time I look in her eyes it’s as if a small piece of her is begging for me to save her. For me to be her knight in shining armor, but I don’t know if I can.

Will my own needs not make her worse? I’m tempted to find her uncle and make him pay for whatever he did to her. To make him suffer. “It’s cold out here,” her soft voice, tentative and innocent, filters through the thoughts of murder that swirl through my mind.

“You should be sleeping,” I tell her, but I don’t look behind me. I don’t need to. Her body heat nears, and it’s as if we’re two opposite ends of a magnet, I sense her. My body longs to connect with hers.

“I was. When I woke up you weren’t there,” she murmurs.

I want to touch her, but my chest aches. Since I lost Raquel, then walked away from Riley, this is the first time I’ve allowed someone to get under my skin like this, but only because I know her secret. I thought I’d given up on affection. On emotion. But somehow, Giana has convoluted my whole world.

“I don’t sleep beside my toys,” I bite out. I’m not angry at her, I’m frustrated at myself. A soft gasp from her is the only way I know my words have hurt her. They slice through the sensitive woman that hides behind the walls she’s built over the years. Her pain is mine. I feel it in my chest. “If you want to go—”

“I’d like you to come lie with me,” she interrupts.

I should hold her. I’m turning into a cold-hearted bastard and that’s the last thing I want to do with a woman like her. Someone so shattered by life. Turning, I face her fully. She’s dressed in my white dress shirt I wore earlier. The hemline sits just below her ass and pussy. Buttoned up just enough to tease me with her full tits, she’s rolled up the sleeves, which gives her an innocence she no longer possesses.

Her hair is messy and her big eyes peek up at me from under dark lashes. Her lips are full and plump, begging me to taste them once more. To own them. How did I ever become such a mess? I think to myself, wondering where I went wrong.

“Like I said—”

“If you want to know who I really am,” she says, stepping closer, her hand resting on my shoulder, causing the skin to sizzle with need for her. “Then you’ll allow me the pleasure of your company.”

When she’s obeying my every whim, she’s beautiful. When she’s screaming out my name and crying with tears of pleasure, she’s intoxicating. But it’s when she’s confident in her own skin, that’s when she becomes my addiction. My lust. My Toy.

Closing the distance between us, I wrap my arms around her. My hands roam gently over her curves, finding purchase on her pert little ass. I lift her up. A small wince on her face tells me she’s still tender from earlier.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.” My words are a shock to me. I still for a moment as realization settles that I’m showing her affection. Giving her a part of me I’ve kept hidden for so long it feels foreign. I’ve never apologized to any of my toys before. Never needed or wanted to.

“You didn’t.” Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms circle my neck, and her face is only inches from mine. Her eyes shine in the moonlight. A beacon in the darkness. “I wanted you to make me forget. There’s so much wrong with me, I don’t know why you’d want me.”

“You make me want to do things to you I’ve never done with anyone else.” My confession makes her smile. “What?” I question, still holding her against me, her ass cheeks in my hands. Her tits against my bare chest, and her mouth inches from mine.

“You have no idea how much I want you.” She rolls her hips, causing me to groan as the heat of her pussy presses against my crotch.

“Oh, Toy, I do. Every fiber of my being knows because I don’t just want you, I need you. I should push you away,” I murmur while dropping my gaze, needing to clear my mind of what she does to me. Looking into her eyes is hypnotic, I find myself saying stupid things. Words I shouldn’t be telling her.

“But you can’t,” she utters.

The truth of her words delves into my heart and mind. She’s right. I can’t deny it. Each night I walked into Sins, I saw her, wanted her, but never took the opportunity to ask her. This wasn’t by chance, I’ve wanted her for a long while now. Snapping my gaze to meet hers, I’m astounded by the strength that shines in hers.

I walk us into the house once more. Still holding onto her, I pad up the staircase and down the hall. I take her to the guestroom I settled her in earlier after our scene. A beautiful queen size bed sits against one wall with the walk-in closet opposite, and an adjacent dresser. The windows overlook the countryside, which is at the rear of the house. Cream and peach colors adorn the walls, giving it a feminine feel.

I set her down, my hands missing her warmth as soon as she steps away from me. She glances around as if seeing the space for the first time. I’m sure she didn’t notice anything when she awoke.

“It’s pretty,” she murmurs, running her hand over the delicate fabric of the curtain. Her fingertips gently tug them open only to be met with the dark window beyond.

“You’re pretty.”

She pivots on her bare feet to stare at me. The corner of her gentle mouth tugs into a playful grin. “I’m no prettier than the other toys you bring here.”

The fact that she’s seen me with other women, yet says it so nonchalantly, makes me wonder if it bothers her. Perhaps she’s jealous. I want her to be. Not because I’m an asshole, but because it shows she cares. That she’s feeling what I am.

In that moment, I wish I can remove my past. Erase all the women who’ve been on the end of my dick. So many nights I’ve enjoyed devouring sweet, beautiful toys, but with her, there’s nothing I want more than to take her to my bedroom and watch her sleep tangled in my sheets. To have her scent in the room I think of as my sanctuary.

“And what do you know of the others?”

She turns away from me again. I hate that. The need to have her eyes on me all the time tugs at my chest. “I know they enjoyed being with you. That they come into the club to see you in the hope that you’ll take them for a second time perhaps. That you’ll gift them the title most of the women who frequent Sins covet.”

Chuckling, I scrub my hand over my jaw as I regard her still dressed in my shirt. “And what title is that, Giana?”

She glances at me over her shoulder. The sight knocks me breathless. Her big brown eyes pierce me, the long chocolate waves of her hair fall in an alluring waterfall down her back. The shirt teases a hint of her ass cheeks, and the way her lips purse tells me there’s something devious on her mind.

“Daddy’s Toy,” she breathes, like a seductress tempting a man who has no control.

And I don’t. Every restraint I was holding onto snaps in that moment, and I’m overcome with an insatiable need to claim her. To make her my toy forever.

Stalking toward her, I near her within a few steps. The sweetness of her perfume invades my senses when I lean in. Brushing my lips over her cheek, I revel in the shudder that ripples through her. “I’d like you to tell me something, Giana. Is that what you want? The coveted title of Daddy’s Toy?” I ask, barely grazing her lips with mine. The words fan over her face. Her eyes flutter closed, those deep breaths she was inhaling are a thing of her past when I reach for her face, cupping it in my hand. My thumb strokes her cheek, the smooth skin feels like silk under my touch. She leans into me, and I recognize her need is as palpable as mine. A force living and breathing between us. “Tell me, Giana.”

“Yes,” she whimpers.

A keening cry falls from her lips when I grip the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging it back so her face is in line with mine. I’m not letting her go, she better believe that when she agrees to this, I’m keeping her. “Open your eyes.” My command is gruff, heavily doused in desire. When those endless dark pools open and meet mine, I see it. Lust. “Do you want to be my Toy? Do you know what that means, Giana?”

She attempts to shake her head no, but my grip on her hair is too tight. I want words. She knows this. “Tell me, Elijah. Explain to me, let me hear you.”

“It means you give over control to me. Which means I own every aspect of your life. You’re allowed to work, or study, but you answer to me when I ask where you are and what you’re doing. I need to know who you’re with when you’re not with me, or at work. No other man can touch you,” I grind out. She’s under my command now as I trail the fingers of my free hand up her inner thighs. The movement is slow, steady, and when I find her cunt, it’s smooth and wet. She’s already slick with arousal when I dip my fingers in, feeling her heat envelop me.

“Yes,” she hisses in response.

“It means I can take you, fuck you, tease and taunt you, whenever and wherever I please. If I want to tie you up, whip you, cane you, I will. You will swallow my dick anywhere I want you to. Whether we’re in private or public. But let me get one thing clear, Giana…” My voice trails off. The air hangs thickly over us with the impending threat I’m about to deliver. The rules and regulations that come with being mine swirl around us in a hazy cloud. “It doesn’t matter where you are, or who you’re with, you’re mine. That means your mind and your body—every inch of it—is mine.”

“What about my heart?”

Her question stills me. Do I want that? Can I take her heart without giving her mine in return? No, I can’t. This is too much. I can’t. Shoving her away, I step back. Her mouth parts in shock. Tears well in her eyes from my actions and I know it will only get worse.

Her heart is fragile, her mind even more so. I can’t shatter her more than I already have. “Eli, I’m not asking for love.” She takes a tentative step toward me, but I retreat. I can’t have her touching me. She can’t be near me. “Please? Don’t do this. I didn’t mean—”

“You want a fucking ring? Then find another little boyfriend down at the club because I’ll never be that man.” My words are sullen, filled with guilt at me even considering another woman. I can never replace Raquel.

“I don’t want another man. I don’t need a ring to tell me how you feel.” She implores me, desperation emanates from every pore on her body.

“Get out. Take your shit and get out. Leave my shirt here. You need to leave.” With that, I spin on my heel and exit the room. An anguished cry is wretched from her very core and it echoes through the hallway as I make my way to the East wing of the house.

Trying to block her out, I race into my bathroom and turn on the shower. I need to wash her scent from me. I can’t have her sweetness near me. What the fuck have I just done?