A week. I’ve been here for seven days. Each morning he comes to me, I count. And each time the door opens I can’t wait to look at him. To see his eyes, his face. The slight scruff that dusts his chin.

“Paige,” he murmurs this morning in his gruff tone.

“Wolfe,” I respond quietly. As usual, he leaves my breakfast on the table and turns to walk away. I think he’s leaving, but he stops at the dresser and settles in the chair. He drags his dark eyes over to me, taking me in. “Are you going to take me now?”

The question falls from my lips before I have time to think. I’m shocked when he laughs. It’s a rumbling sound which makes me smile. I find myself wanting to hear it again as soon as it stops.

“I don’t take, Paige. When I’m with a woman it’s because she’s begging for it.” His confidence hangs heavy in the air, but his words have jealousy swirling around in my belly. I don’t want to feel something for him, but I can’t deny I do. “Besides you don’t want me to fuck you, Firebird. Because I won’t be gentle. It will hurt and you’ll cry, and you know what?” I shake my head, my mouth dry as the fucking desert because fear races through me. My mind is blank with what to say, but I don’t get a chance to respond because he answers for me. “I’ll enjoy every moment of seeing your tight little cunt opening like a flower as it swallows my cock.”

“You have a filthy mouth,” I retort. All my life, I’ve been spoken to with respect, like I’m a prim and proper princess. Now, as this savage man who would love to inflict pleasured pain on me utters such filthy words, I find myself aching for him to show me exactly what he means. He doesn’t know he’s playing right into my hands. The only way I’ll get out of here is to make the monster feel.

“And you have a feisty little mouth. One that I’d like to shove my cock down and watch as you swallow it,” he taunts. His voice is low, gravely, and I know he’s as turned on as I am.

“Then why don’t you show me?” He rises from the chair, stalks toward me on the bed, and leans in. Hot breath with the scent of coffee whispers over my face. Lifting my chin, I meet his intense stare. He grips my chin between his thumb and index finger.

His mouth is so close to mine, if I moved an inch, I’d be able to taste him, to feel his lips mold to mine. But I don’t. I wait. His tongue darts out, licking the seam of my lips. A deep rumble vibrates in his chest. He grips my hair at the nape of my neck and tugs me impossibly closer, as if he’s trying to climb inside me. “You taste so sweet, little one,” he murmurs almost reverently.

“Do I get to taste you, Sir?” I breathe the word, which has his smirk returning full force, and I can’t help smiling. His eyes flit between my lips and my eyes. But when they settle on my deep green pools, he nods.

“You really want this?” he questions, and I nod. “If I took your mouth now, if I claimed it as mine, you’d allow me to? Because, as much as I do this shit, I don’t force myself on any woman. So you’ll need to beg.”

His eyes that peek at me through his mask bleed with sincerity. “Would you like it if I begged?” My sassy remark grants me another tug on the strands he has in a fierce grip.

“I’d fucking love it, Firebird. To hear you whimper my name as I rain down swats on your beautiful ass while I’m deep inside you would be the ultimate heaven. Even though this isn’t the life I chose for myself, deep down, I love the control.” The more he speaks, the more my skin heats. As he utters his desires, my own tumble and twist low in my core, tugging at me. “I love to mark you. But I won’t make you do something you don’t want to. Your strength when we’re in there does things to me. Things that are forbidden. I shouldn’t want you this much, Paige.” The room feels too small. He’s too close. My body is too aware of how much I want him. I shiver at the words he utters. Reaching up, I run a finger over the strike of red that marks the left side of his mask.

“Why?” I ask quietly.

“Because if they know I do, they’ll kill me and you.” My heart leaps into my throat at his brutally honest confession. This isn’t something he should be sharing. “My heart isn’t what you see within these walls, Firebird.”

“Why do you stay? And why call me firebird?”

“I stay because it’s my prison. And you my little one are as rare as a bird born of fire, and as beautiful as one too.” His thumb swipes over my lips, with his gaze penetrating me in such a way I feel naked. His touch scorches me. This is a part of him. He’s opening up to me, allowing me to see behind the façade.

And even though he’s still wearing a mask, he’s showing me a glimpse into his heart. In the darkness of the world we’ve been thrown into, I see light. Because I see him. He leans in further, warm lips on mine. “You look at me too closely,” he mumbles against my lips. His mouth hovers lightly over mine. It sends a jolt of desire shooting through me, and I wish he’d just devour me.

“You make me feel like you want me to. I see you, Wolfe.”

He smiles at my words, and it’s a sight to behold. I wish I could see his whole face—to get the full effect of his beauty—but what I have to work with has to be enough.

“Perhaps I do want you to see me. The real me.” He ghosts the words along my lips, and then he does it. His mouth finally molds to mine. The heat of his kiss, the scruff on his chin, his body pressing against mine, everything turns me molten. Need burns like a flame in my belly. My hands come up, twining around his neck and pulling him closer. The ridge of his erection presses against my stomach, I hum my approval as my hips rise. Needing the friction, the heat, the touch.

Our tongues duel, our bodies burn, mine alight with a yearning that tightens everything below my belly button. His hands grip my hips painfully, as if he’s trying to mold his body to mine.

When we finally break the kiss, my lips are hot, swollen, and wet. My tongue wants to taste him again. “You’re a temptress, Firebird.”

“And you’re a sinful seducer, Wolfe. I’ve never… I mean, I don’t…” My words taper off, but seem to halt his movements. He slowly releases my hip where his one hand had found purchase during the kiss.

“What, Paige?” he questions, his voice still husky with desire. “I know you’re a virgin, it’s obvious, but don’t tell me you’ve never been kissed.”

“I’ve been kissed before, but I’ve never been consumed by a man like that.” My voice is barely audible, but he’s close enough to hear me. The corner of his mouth lifts into a sinful smirk.

“Somehow, with those big green eyes and your delicious body, I don’t think it will be the last,” he utters. I think I hear jealousy dripping from the words, but I can’t be sure. At least, I don’t think it would be wise for us to even journey down this path. He told me I’m forbidden, and as much as I want to stick to my plan, to make him care, I fear I’m the one falling.

Lifting my gaze to his, I lean forward. “Will you do it again?” Hope fills my chest and it laces my words. A blush spreads across my cheeks at the question, and I feel immature for asking.

“You’re going to be the death of me, little one,” he vows in a tone filled with barely restrained hunger and agony. As if wanting me hurts him. I suppose it does since he’s not allowed to.

“Tell me why you’re so scared of letting go,” I question, acting braver than I feel. A shudder that travels over my body is evidence of my apprehension. He moves off me completely, standing at full height.

“Sit back,” he orders and I scoot against the headboard. Watching him curiously, I can’t help smiling when he settles beside me. Immediately, I feel his warmth and affection. This man isn’t a monster.

“If I do let go with you, I’ll hurt you. I… There are things I like, things I enjoy, and I don’t want you to see that kind of darkness. The darkness that runs through my veins. Yes, I’ve whipped you, and I’ve caned you, but that’s my job.” His words still me, squeezing my heart. There’s a certain sadness in his voice, causing me to turn to him fully. I’m on my knees gazing at him. I want to know more about him. I want to delve inside his mind, to learn about who he is, what his dreams are and how they differ from mine. He continues then, telling me with a smirk, “For me, I enjoy other ways of delicious torture.”

“You won’t hurt me.” The surety in my tone startles us both. Something shifts between us. Emotion passes from me to him, as if a rope is tethering my heart to his. Because when he glances at me again, meeting my stare head on, I see it. Affection. He cares for me. He might not want to. But he does.

“You shouldn’t believe that,” he says earnestly.

“Well, I do.” Pushing up, I rise to stand beside the bed, my arms crossed over my chest, causing him to chuckle. He swings his legs over the edge, his hands grip my hips and he pulls me closer, so I’m positioned between his thighs. For the first time, I’m staring down at him, and him up at me.

“You’re a little firecracker, and you’re going to burn me alive. Aren’t you?” he asks. His smile is incredible, it lights his dark eyes reminding me of dark chocolate. Nodding, I place my hands on his shoulders and feel the tension ease at my touch.

“Tell me why you’re here, if this isn’t what you want. And why do I scare you so much?” For a beat, he just watches me. Our connection strengthens with every thud of my heart, and when I shift my thumb, I feel the thrum of his pulse just below the smooth skin of his neck.

“You ask too many questions, baby.” The word falls from his mouth—it tumbles and hangs between us. My heart kicks in my chest at the endearment, and our gazes lock.

“And you evade too many answers,” I respond quietly, my voice low as I lean in closer, inhaling his scent. Spicy, warm, and it reminds me of cinnamon and cigars. A smoky sweetness. It’s just him.

“If I tell you about me, it makes this personal. It drags you into my darkness, and I fear your light will be dimmed, Firebird,” he murmurs against my cheek.

“What if I scorched your darkness and let it burn to ash?” I feel his smile against my skin, and it sends goosebumps rising all over my body.

“Then perhaps we’ll rise from those very ashes, baby.” A cocky smirk on his lips has me grinning.

“Aren’t you the poetic one?”

“Don’t get used to it. I’m not always this lyrical.” He chuckles, and I can’t help feeling happiness ease itself between us. It’s a foreign feeling after the week of torment, and I know as soon as the next words are out of my mouth, I’m going to regret asking them.

“Do you know why I was kidnapped?” The gates shut in his eyes, turning his face to stone. The icy chill of his demeanor sends a shudder through me.

“I told you, little firebird, you ask too many questions.” With that, he rises, leaving me on my bed. “I’ll be back later. Be dressed. I’m taking you into room five for training.” He opens the door, and when it shuts behind him, tears break the barrier and stream down my face.

I fucked it up. We were getting somewhere, and I had to go open my big mouth. This morning I overheard a couple of the other girls talking. Apparently, room five is the worst one, filled with toys that hurt. Not the pleasurable hurt, but the kind of pain that will stay with me. He must be angry. I wonder if he’s angry at me for asking the questions, or at himself for not being able to give me the answers.