Dad pours himself a scotch and settles into his favorite easy chair in the family room, kicking his feet up on the leather ottoman. Given the size of the drink he poured, it’s easy to see he’s frustrated by today’s events.

I pour one for myself and settle on the couch near him. The huge flat-screen TV is on, set to a music channel playing soft rock hits. The hidden speakers nestled around the room fill the space with ambient sound. I don’t say anything, just wait for him to speak. I could try pointing out that the rest of our meetings went well…amazingly so, more than I thought they would.

But he’s festering over Axel. Daddy doesn’t like to lose. Not when he’s being shut down so harshly.

“What a dick,” Daddy finally says, resting his head on his recliner. The glass rests on his thigh in a clenched hand, long fingers wrapped around it. “Sometimes we get bullheaded people who are resistant to positive change. It’s idiotic how some won’t wake up and see what a shitty place they’re stuck in.”

“To be fair, it is his home,” I find myself saying. “I can see how someone would be hostile about us trying to demolish it.” Which is true. I’d be upset if someone was pushing me to move from the place I called home, whatever the reason. People have attachments to places for various reasons.

My father looks up and over at me, both brows raised. “I can’t believe you’re defending anything about this.” His voice is even, but I can hear the displeasure seeping through his tone.

“I’m just trying to think about it from their perspective,” I say generically. “It’s the best way to find how to approach them, if I can connect to them.”

“Their homes are dumps,” he says baldly. “Utter waste of good space. They’re lucky we’re even willing to work with them at all.”

“I’m sure we can get him to change his mind.” I sip my drink.

Daddy eyes me for a long moment. “Kendra. Don’t get caught in the charms of common men like Axel Beckett.”

I might be 21, out of college, but it’s going to be a while before he sees me as an adult woman. I smother a sigh I with another drink of scotch.

“I don’t plan to,” I say, even though I’m reminded of last night with him, how he devoured me bite by bite. My body grows flushed at the memory, and I try to not shift in my seat. Daddy doesn’t know what happened between us, and that’s fine. He doesn’t need to know.

“Good. Guys like that will bring you nothing but suffering and humiliation if you drop your guard and trust them for even a moment.” Having proclaimed his opinion, he settles back into his chair and grabs a book from the table beside him, flipping through the pages to get to where he left off.

I love my father. But the fact that he seems to think I have no ability to judge character makes me burn with frustration. I rise and pour more scotch into my glass. “I’m heading to my suites,” I tell him.

“Sleep well,” he says in a distracted tone as he sinks into the pages of the thriller on his lap.

I mumble a goodnight to him and leave his den, heading to my wing. It’s just he and I living in the mansion, plus various help he’s hired over the years to maintain the mansion and its grounds, so the place offers me plenty of privacy. Daddy’s rooms are on the far end of the opposite wing. When I make it to my sitting room, I slump on the chaise and stare past the massive floor-to-ceiling French doors at the moon-filled night. I feel…restless. Maybe I should go take a walk in the gardens. Fresh air and flowers may offer solace and peace.

What is wrong with me?

I know what my problem is. A man. Someone who confuses me to hell, arouses me, irritates me. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known before. Certainly not the pampered douches at my college, or those in my social circles. They’re all dull, with no spark. Nothing interesting that makes me feel alive when I’m with them.

Axel has a fire in his belly. Passion in his eyes. He’s magnetic, and wild, and damn it, I can’t stop thinking about him.

I stand up and open the doors, stepping onto the balcony. The sounds of nature in the wooded areas beyond our grounds beckon me. What would it be like to be wild like him? To not give a fuck about what people think about you? Axel does what he wants. I have too many responsibilities, too many goals, to act like that.

But God, it is compelling, refreshing in a strange way.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call. I pull it out of my pants—I don’t recognize the number. “Hello?” It’s a little late for someone to be doing business, but Daddy told me people operate at all hours of the day in our industry and to get used to it. Business runs on its own hours.

“Your voice is just as sexy on the phone as it is in person.” The words, delivered in a gravelly, familiar tone, send small shivers of pleasure across my skin.

“Axel,” I say as evenly as I can. I don’t want him to know how he gets to me. Despite him admitting it was wrong to run out on me after our night together, I can’t let myself be vulnerable to this man. He could undo me if I dare to drop my guard. “Did you change your mind about selling? I’m happy to make an appointment during daytime to discuss it.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“What kind of game are you playing here?” I say, alarmed at the light breathlessness in my voice. Shit. So much for maintaining a professional cool. “Does this approach normally work on women?”

“Not a game. I fucking want you again so much.” There’s a rawness in his voice that goes right to my pussy, tightening the muscles there as I remember how he felt against me. God, I want him too.

I want to remind him he was only supposed to call me about business. But he and I both know I didn’t give him my cell phone number for just that. I was hoping he would reach out to me, despite not wanting to admit it out loud, or even to myself.

I put my cards on the table and he called my bluff.

“Tell me you’ve been thinking about last night like I have,” he says, the words demanding an answer from me.

“I have,” I find myself admitting.

“You were a virgin.” The words are out there, so bluntly, and I don’t know how to respond at first.

My face, throat, and chest burst into an inferno of heat as I stare out into the darkness. “I… So?” I almost could laugh at the defensiveness in my response.

“No one ever…gave me that before,” he says quietly. “It scared me, how quickly I connected with you. But it was shitty to run like that, to make you feel like that didn’t matter to me. If you give me another chance, I won’t do that again.”

The sincerity in his tone undoes me. “Thank you for that.”

But then I hear my father’s words of caution and wonder if maybe I am that naïve. Maybe I am getting played here.

“I want to see you, now,” Axel says darkly. Now the bossiness is back, and fuck, I find myself growing wet at the insistent words. I love how dominant he is, how he takes what he wants. It’s so sexy. I’ve never known someone like him.

“I’m at home right now,” I say with more than a little regret. “I had some scotch, so I can’t drive anywhere.”

“I’ll come to you. Tell me where.”

I gasp. “Are you crazy? My dad is here.”

“Then I suggest you find a way to sneak me in,” he practically purrs, “because I need to lick that pussy again and taste your come on my mouth. And something tells me you need it too.”

My lower belly tightens so much that I’m certain I could orgasm just from his words. “I…” I swallow, then rattle off the address before I can overthink it. “I’ll meet you at the gatehouse. Just turn your lights off as you approach.”

“Done. See you soon, sweetness.” The phone clicks off, and I’m left staring at it, shocked at myself.

I’m sneaking Axel into my father’s house. This is insane, and way outside of anything I’ve ever done. I don’t even recognize myself. And if I’m honest, I don’t want to. Since meeting Axel, I find myself having the urge to be more wild, like him.

I want him inside me too. Need it.

After a few minutes, I slip down the stairs, out the front door, and in my flats, pad my way down the smooth driveway toward the gatehouse. I can’t wait any longer. My whole body feels alive, vibrant with anticipation. I’m hungry again for Axel. Needing him. Last night, he awakened me, and I can’t seem to shut that off. My desire feels like a firehose that’s been put on full blast.

I don’t want to shut it off.

The moon casts a soft pale glow on the grass and plants dotting the landscape. As a kid, I loved running around on the grounds at night. It felt like a fairy tale place, where magic could happen. I haven’t had that feeling since then, but tonight, I’m getting that same sense of magic, as silly as it sounds.

Keep your heart out of this, I warn myself. It’s all too easy to tangle up sex and love. This is the former, nothing else. I can enjoy it, and I should. But only if I keep myself emotionally protected. Axel isn’t the kind of guy I can settle down with. Nor should I even assume he’d want that.

We both know what this is. And I’m okay with that.

I hear the purr of a motorcycle coming down the drive, and the butterflies in my stomach kick into overdrive. This isn’t just a random pickup like last night was. This is purposeful. No drunken seduction needed. I might be warm from the scotch I had earlier, but I feel sober and alive and ready for what’s to come.

True to his word, the headlight of his bike is flicked off as he approaches the gatehouse. I key the code, and the gates open, letting him in.

“Um, you can leave your bike—” My words are cut off by the hard press of his mouth on mine, the way his hand possessively snaps around my waist to draw me closer to him, still perched on his bike. He drags my body against his, and I breathe him in.

God. Yes.

This man is sin incarnate, and I can’t help but want to give in.

Axel’s mouth is searching mine, tasting, dipping and diving into me. It makes me crave that mouth everywhere. My body is in fire, tingling, my pussy clenched and soaked. I dig my hands into his hair and kiss him like he is my oxygen. Like I can’t draw another breath into my desperate lungs without him.

His hands are clenching me close now, fingers digging into my hips, and I relish the sensation, crave it. His scent and taste already feel familiar to me, as crazy as I know that might be.

When he pulls away, I honest-to-God groan, and that makes him smile. “I probably shouldn’t fuck you right out here. Though I’m tempted to.” He nibbles my chin, down my throat, and I arch for him. Yes, oh yes.

I manage to get my head straight and tell him to park his bike on the other side of the gatehouse, out of the way. Then I lead him toward the house.

We walk in silence, words unnecessary. When he takes my hand, I thread my fingers in his, enjoying how we fit together on a level deeper than I’m supposed to. I tell myself this is just sex, nothing more. If I can keep repeating that, I won’t feel more than that. I don’t want to, anyway. I just want this—the carnal lust crackling between us.

It’s enough for me.

We slip through the front door and head up to my wing of suites. I can’t help but be a little self-conscious as I lead him there. I remember Axel’s house from earlier. I hope he doesn’t think I’m showing off or anything. We grew up differently, but that doesn’t mean I’m superficial or anything.

Once we enter my bedroom and I lock the door, all worries fly when his hands are immediately on me, stripping my shirt off. My body curves toward him. His fingers are kneading my flesh, sweeping along me with expert touches that make me sigh and grow wet for him.

When he reaches a finger to brush my pussy over my pants, I buck against him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, fucking you,” he says, rubbing me down there with slow, torturing swirls. “The little sounds you made, the flavor of your juices…” He tugs me against him with his other hand, and I can feel the firmness of his body along mine. “Tell me how badly you want this, Kendra.”

I swallow. “I need to feel you in me again. Please.”

He leans closer. His breath is warm against my skin. “You have to be quiet. No one can hear us. And if you can’t be quiet, I’m going to take those wet panties off and cram them in your mouth. Do you understand me?”

My entire body erupts in fresh tingles of arousal. Oh God, this man is wrecking me in the best way. Does he even know the impact he’s having on me with the way he takes control? I give a mute nod, and then I find myself getting stripped. I don’t even have the brain capacity to be self-conscious. I’m too busy fumbling with his clothes and trying to get him naked with me.

Soon, our clothes are discarded and we’re both against each other, just bare flesh and wet kisses and groping fingers. I’m thrusting my pussy shamelessly against his palm, whispering incoherent words as I beg him to touch me deep inside. I need it more than anything right now.

“How many times do you think you can come for me?” Axel muses as he presses a finger into my wet entrance. He pushes it inside for a moment, causing me to squeeze him with an uncontrollable reflex, then withdraws, ignoring my whimpers. “Go lie down on the bed. Right now.”

I jump to attention and do as he demands.

He comes over to me; even in the dim light, I marvel at his bodies.

The way his gorgeous tattoos ripple across his muscular flesh. The artwork on his body is hot, dangerous, and beautiful. I never thought I was into guys with tattoos, but on Axel it is most definitely thrilling.

My eyes stray from his body, back to his face. I can see the predatory look in his eyes. He looks like he wants to rip me apart, piece by piece, and I want it, too. I need him to fuck me until I can no longer think or do anything but be in this moment, with him buried inside me.

Then his face is nestled between my legs, and I’m biting my lower lip so I don’t scream his name out loud. That wicked, amazing tongue is dancing along my wet cleft, licking and drinking me with soft groans of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he says in a guttural tone. His hands rest on my inner thighs as he presses my legs further apart. “I need this cunt so badly. Open wider for me, baby.”

I’m helpless to anything but what he asks of me. My breasts are heavy and swollen, fingers digging into my bedspread to gain some sense of grounding in this heady moment. I push my quaking thighs open so he can eat me thoroughly, feast on me like I’m his last meal.

His tongue laves my clit, the ministrations driving me closer to orgasm. My entire body is throbbing with each stroke. I can feel it tightening my already painful nipples. And because he’s so aware of me, so sensitive to what I need even when I don’t vocalize it, his hand reaches up unbidden and he cups my breast, thumbing the rigid tip.

I’m so close. So close for him.

“I want that come on my mouth,” he says against my pussy, squeezing the tip of my nipple until it’s a painful bead. He pushes two fingers inside my pussy, with another swirling around my ass, fingering the hole and making me crave more there, despite the tinge of fear.

And then I’m flying. Breaking apart. Ecstasy, shattering me to pieces. My entire body is shaking with the force of my orgasm, and I’m a tightly coiled spring beneath him, but he is relentless in licking me, not caring how sensitive my clit is.

I start to squirm away, but he moves the hand off my breast to pin me in place, moving into a kneeling position. Before I realize what’s happening, he’s off the bed, and I hear the sound of leather abrading fabric as he’s ripping his belt from his jeans.

Oh God. It’s so bad, so wicked, but my pussy squeezes impossibly tight at the sight of the strap clenched in his huge fists. I don’t know what he intends, but I need it, whatever it is.

“Hands up,” Axel growls in a voice I don’t recognize.

“What?”

“Hands. Up. Over your head.” He sounds angry, but I can tell that’s not what it is. It’s intensity, desire. His cock is massive and throbbing, and his eyes are dark and swirling with need.

I do as he commands, and then the strap of leather is winding around my wrists and I’m suddenly immobile, attached to my wooden-slotted headboard.

As if I haven’t had secret, dark fantasies about this sort of thing.

My breathing grows ragged. This man reads far too much into me, intuits the things I want to explore. It’s dangerous how well he knows me already, despite how briefly we’ve actually known each other.

Then my panties are lifted from the floor, and he’s pressing the soaked fabric of my crotch to my face. “Breathe,” he says. “Smell this beautiful cunt and how wet it gets for me. This is what I fucking crave. This is insanely sexy.”

I can smell my rich musk, which makes me uncomfortable but also aroused. My entire body flushes red from the intimacy of the position I’m in.

“Remember,” he says, putting the panties right by my head so I’m aware they’re there. “Stay quiet, or these go in your mouth.”

I nod.

Axel grips the back of my head and tugs on my hair, and the tingling sensation on my scalp makes my mouth fly open and eyes close. “You’re a dirty girl deep down, aren’t you? You want to please me?”

“Yes,” I say, not caring anymore if I sound desperate or whimpering. It’s true. I want to drive him as crazy as he drives me. Get him as turned on as I am. The bite of the leather belt into my skin makes me feel naughty. And I can smell the scent of my arousal from my panties beside me. It’s almost sensory overload.

I could drown in this experience and die happy.

Axel rolls on a condom and perches between my still-open thighs. His hands graze my sensitive flesh, making goosebumps erupt everywhere he touches. Soon I’m a wanton mess, writhing on my bedspread, my pussy impossibly soaked and dripping onto the bedspread.

“You’re so ripe for me,” he says, his thumbs brushing the very outer edges of my outer labia. I want him touching me again, but he denies me, cruelly getting me wetter and wetter and more desperate.

I’m beginning to whine, but I’m too far gone to care how I sound, even if it’s needy. I’m yanking against my restraints, wanting to touch him, aching to. Or hell, even to touch myself. I don’t have any relief.

“Too loud,” he says, and then my panties are crammed in my mouth and his cock is pushing into my sopping pussy, and I’m gasping and thrusting against him.

I moan into the soaked fabric, my tongue wrapped around the delicate cotton. Our eyes are locked as he enters me, withdraws, pushes in again. He’s taking his time now, not rushed. No, this man is seeking to drive me to oblivion.

His cock strokes my inner walls with a frustratingly slow pace. His hands are gliding across my skin, driving my desire through the ceiling. I’m pulsing for him, my blood humming in my veins just for him. I don’t know why, but Axel has worked his way into me already, and I’m helpless.

He leans down until our bodies are aligned, mouths close together.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, it hurts,” Axel says, and he rips the panties out of my mouth and takes my lips in a searing kiss that leaves me crying aloud against him. His cock begins to pound me frantically, hands gripping and clenching me, kneading my flesh, and I’m dizzy with desire.

“Yes,” I whisper, wanting everything he can give me. This lust is beyond anything I have ever experienced. It’s consuming, insane, intense. Another orgasm is swelling in me. Begging to erupt. “I’m… Please,” I beg, pushing my pelvis against him.

“You need to come again, baby?” he purrs.

I nod.

“You’ll come on my cock,” Axel demands, grabbing my hips and pistoning into me like our very lives depend on it. “Nothing else. Come all over me, Kendra. Fucking give it to me.”

He pounds me hard, driving into me over and over again. I’m arching against him, straining from the restraints, on edge and thinking about nothing else but Axel and what he does to me.

My orgasm crashes over me in a wave of desire, and I barely catch myself and stop from screaming at the top of my lungs. My pussy is spasming around him in an uncontrollable clench.

“Fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so tight, I…” A few more thrusts, and then he’s spilling into me, and we’re both riding high on these sensations, the energy streaming between our locked bodies.

We pause, and I suck in several ragged breaths.

Axel pulls back, a slow smile spreading on his face. My heart gives a funny lurch at the sight—he’s ridiculously hot, I tell myself. That’s all. There isn’t anything else here but physical lust, and that’s just fine.

He fiddles with the leather belt binding me and releases my wrists, then massages them with gentle fingers to ease the soreness. The move is tender, and I try not to read into it. “You get five minutes to rest, Kendra. Then comes round two. And I won’t be so easy on you next time.”

God, I hope not. I want him rough, insistent, taking what he wants from me. The heat and promise in his voice has me replying, “You promise?”