I’ve been alone in my bedroom for three mornings. Scarlett brought my breakfast each day, but she didn’t stay long. I don’t leave the bedroom unless he’s with me. And I don’t know when I’ll see him again.

The room itself isn’t bad. The queen-sized bed is pretty with white sheets and a crimson comforter. There’s only one window which is too high for me to see out of, but there’s a sky light which wakes me when morning comes.

An en suite bathroom with a large shower and bath sits to the left of my bed. There’s not much else in the room besides the table and dresser. A small closet just beside it. All the furnishings are a dark red, almost the color of blood. There’s black and silver that pop against the walls that are painted an off white—with no art, no clocks, nothing, they’re bare, just like me.

After Wolfe left me three days ago, I spent the night staring at the stars through my skylight. It was last night after sleep stole me that I dreamt of the night of my eighteenth birthday. It was a memory which forced itself into my mind and now, as I lie here, I try to recall it.

Turning on the little stereo, the iPod shuffles and a song comes on, slamming me back in time. Just over a week ago. The night of the masked ball. My birthday. The day my whole life changed.

“Paige, I would like to see you in my office. You head down and I’ll be there soon.” My father smiles, but his face is tense with emotion.

Nodding, I give him a few moments, grabbing another glass of champagne, draining it. I close my eyes, enjoying the bubbles as they fizzle their way down my throat. Once I’ve set the glass on a passing waiter’s silver tray, I head down the hallway toward the large room he uses as his home office. It’s more like a study, with shelves of books and a large fireplace. The memory of the kiss I’ve just had still has my body buzzing along with the alcohol that races through my bloodstream. Heat. His lips. His hands.

Shaking my head, I step in through the doorway and find myself alone. The party is in full swing, so I wonder why my father would call me away. Surely, he could have waited to talk to me tomorrow.

“Father?” I call out, but I’m met with silence. Reaching for the lamp on his desk, I turn it on. A low yellow light bathes the room with ghosts and shadows, and a cold shiver runs through me. Our home, though immaculate, is cold. It’s always been devoid of love and emotion. My parents aren’t the loving, cuddly kind. They expect me to be the poised doll, smiling at people I don’t know and acting as the sweet and innocent woman. All in an effort to make my father look good under the public’s scrutiny. A family man. Nothing could be further from the truth. As much as I love him, we’ve never had a close relationship. I’ve always been a business transaction, nothing more.

A sound from behind startles me, and in the shadows, stands a figure. “Daddy?” I question while making my way toward him. He’s silent, just watching. As if a scene is about to unfold, and he’s entranced. As I reach him, his face is filled with remorse. His mouth moves, but he doesn’t voice any words. Before I can say anything, my mouth is covered, and when I inhale a deep, shuddering breath, my eyes flutter closed and sleep beckons. Strong hands. An acrid smell.

And that’s the last time I saw my father.

When my mind flits back to the present, I realize I should be getting dressed. Pushing up, I pad into the bathroom and freshen up. I need time to think, but I know I don’t have any. He will be here soon, and I want to please him. The last time I saw him we had more time to bond and I can see he cares. Perhaps I can ask him about getting out of here.

I broke through to him, I saw the human side of the animal he hides behind. Aside from the orders he barks, he’s always been silent and predatory. But I finally got him to open up to me. To give me more than just a grunted command.

The control and confidence he oozes, though, is intoxicating. We’re in our second week of what he calls training. Slowly he’s eased my fear, gotten under my skin. Even so, every time he shows me affection, it’s as if he realizes his mistake and shuts down.

Something about him has me intrigued. Emotions surround this man like a hurricane—swirling with darkness and danger—anger, guilt, frustration, and one I didn’t expect, desire.

“Paige,” his gruff tone calls from the bedroom. When I step out wrapped in only my robe and a pair of panties beneath, I find him, masked, with nothing but a pair of jeans on. His skin is flawless, beautiful. No tattoos, no scars. “Are you ready?” His deep brown eyes rake over me, teasing me with a devious look.

“Yes, Sir,” I murmur, and I swear I see him smirk.

“Good. I’d like to take you over to the room, for a little bit. Just… I need to spend some time in there,” he murmurs. It’s not an order, more like a request. As if he’s asking rather than telling. His body is taut, muscles strained.

“Is this going to be a punishment?” I question. My curiosity is piqued when he turns to me. Dark eyes penetrate my very being, as if he’s communicating his answer with a single glare. He allows me a moment to close the distance between us. When I reach for his face, his hand comes out, gripping my wrist to stop me.

“Don’t touch my face. Please.” His request is almost pained and it tugs at my heart.

“Why? I want to feel you. I want…” My words taper off when he pins me with a heated glower. My mouth hangs open, wondering if I should continue or not.

“Tell me,” he orders with a sigh of frustration. I shut my mouth, take a deep breath and watch him, steeling myself before I tell him the words I’ve wanted to since we kissed three days ago.

Shrugging, I moisten my lips and his gaze falls to my lips. “I want you.” We stare at each other for so long, too long, in fact. We’ve never had sex. I’m still a virgin, but my ache for this man is intense. My body tingles, my skin heats, the quiver between my thighs awakens when his tongue moistens his lips.

When he’s near me, I’m zapped with electric currents so fierce, it steals my breath. And I don’t know how else to explain it, but I’m falling down the rabbit hole and there’s no hope for me. I’m his. I’ve been his since I first laid eyes on him.

“You can’t have me, Paige. I’m forbidden.”

“As am I. But will that stop you?”

“Why do you taunt me?”

“I covet you, Wolfe. I want you to want me as much as I want you. There’s no doubt in my mind.” My response is quick—it earns me a ragged breath and a deep growl. “Please, take me.” He glares at me then. His hands grip my hips and he carries me to my bed, lying me down. He reaches in his back pocket for the blindfold and hands it to me.

“Put that on,” he orders, and I comply. Once my eyes are covered, I wait. For a moment, I think he’s just playing with me. That he’s teasing me by watching me lie in agony. But then I feel it. The belt of my robe is undone and then I’m mostly naked to his hungry gaze.

My body trembles, but not from cold, from the pure lust that races through me. Suddenly, I’m consumed by his mouth, I’m worshipped by his hands. They’re all over me. As if he’s trying to memorize every inch of my skin. Starting at my neck, he kisses me and devours me. His lips hot, his hands electric as they stroke the skin that’s bare to him.

His tongue tastes, his lips consume, his growl is low and seductive, like he’s been starving for so long and he’s finally been fed a five-course meal. Slowly he moves down my body as my back arches off the bed, but his hands firmly hold my hips down until the hot breath from his full lips reaches my core.

When he releases me, I whimper at the loss of him, but a soft noise alerts me that he’s moving. Then he gently splays my thighs to his gaze—at least, that’s what I assume he’s doing—and I realize I know why he asked me to wear the blindfold. He’s taken his mask off.

I cry out when I feel him rip the panties from my hips, and his mouth crashes down on my pussy. I’m wet, drenched, and his tongue darts into the slick folds of my entrance.

“Jesus, Paige. Your cunt is decadent,” he growls against the quivering flesh. “I could eat you all fucking day and never tire of you.” I’m lost to the ecstasy that’s racing through every inch of my body, trickling over every inch of my skin and squeezing the heart that’s beating wildly in my chest for him.

“Please, I need you. I want your filthy mouth on me,” I moan. I just want him to take me and make me his. Only his.

“Sassy little firebird,” he grunts against my pussy. His fingers tease me open, and I know he’s staring at me because I can feel my skin being scorched by his gaze. His lips latch on to my clit and he suckles it into his mouth. His teeth latch on, biting down hard, sending pure, pained pleasure shooting through every nerve in my body. My back arches off the bed again and this time he lets me ride out the bliss.

My fingers fist in his hair, and I tug him closer, needing more. Wanting him to fill me, but he doesn’t. His tongue fucks my core, fast, hard, and deep, and then his fingers slide into me. Only deep enough to feel my resistance, which I’ll gladly give him, but he doesn’t take it. Instead, he pulls my hardened nub into his mouth again, pumping his fingers into my body.

“Come for me,” he growls.

And I do. My body convulses and pulses around his digits, and this man, who is on his knees before me, drinks every drop of my release.

* * *

After I’d come down from my high, he made sure I was okay, and then left without so much as a word. I sat alone and confused for most of the day until he walked back into my room—mask firmly in place—blindfolded me again, and ordered me to follow with him tugging my leash.

He’d just brought me into the room where we normally train. When he ripped off the material covering my eyes moments ago, he didn’t look directly at me, but rather at my wrists. “Why?” I beg, my voice sounding small and faint. “Just answer me?” Once again, he doesn’t meet my questioning gaze. I thought he was about to say something when he turned to work the straps on a leather bench before me.

My anxiety calmed somewhat as he continued whatever it was he was doing. My mouth, however, was on automatic, needing to know what was going on. I needed to make him see we’re right together. That we work. I know he’d be able to get me out of here. My plan failed, though. I wanted to make him love me, but I’m the one who’s fallen. I really need him to show me his face, but what I want more is for him to show me his heart.

He’s so silent, so closed off, I’m not sure if he regrets what happened earlier. Frustration burns in my gut, anxiety squeezes my heart, and I’m left with nothing but a man who can’t give me an answer.

For the first time since we walked into this room he turns to me and I startle. “Look, I—” My words break off as his hand finds its way around my throat. The collar and his grasp tighten painfully, and stars begin to flicker in my vision.

“Shut. Up.” His voice is thick, not with anger, though. Instead with...fear? “I can’t do this if you’re going to keep talking. Please, Firebird.” For the first time since he made me come on his tongue he looks me dead in the eye, and I see it. That thing he’s been trying to hide, but no longer can, because I can see it reflecting in his soul through his heated gaze. Affection.

As much as he’d like me to believe his soul is black, I know it’s a lie. He’s hurting as much as I am. “Well, if you’re so fucking annoyed with me, why don’t you hand me over to one of the others? Surely there’s someone who’d like to play with me, seeing as you don’t,” I hiss as his grip tightens. His eyes glow. And I swear to all that’s holy, it’s as if there’s a flame behind them.

“Do. Not. Test. Me,” he growls, and my knees give way. Something about his tone and the way he’s pressing me against the wall has a flood of heat rushing through me, settling with heaviness between my thighs.

“Why? Are you going to spank me?” I should shut up. I shouldn’t push him. But my fiery personality and the fact that he’s got my panties wet is more than I can handle. I should be scared. But I’m not. I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been.

Without a word, he pulls me forward, tugging me toward a bench that has leather and chains attached to it. My heart spikes, hammering against my ribs, deafening me. Shit. What have I done? “You want to be spanked? Huh?” he murmurs in my ear, and I find that deathly calm tone scarier than if he was shouting. My wrists are tugged forward, and I feel the thick cold leather before I see it. I’m bound, my arms stretched forward, my legs spread, and the cold metal around my ankles sends an icy shudder through me.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

Suddenly, the mask is in front of me. “You are an insolent little pet. You need to be taught a lesson.” He disappears from my line of sight, and then I feel it. Cold steel. Feathered lightly on my bare skin. The material of my underwear crumbles, and I try to turn my head, but it’s no use. I can’t see the blade. “So pretty. Your skin is like silk.” His tone is raspy, needy.

“Please...”

Without a response or warning, a sharp sting bites down on my ass, and I yelp. Another joins it, left and right, again and again, and I’m wetter and more turned on than I was only moments ago. Than I’ve ever been. I’ve read about girls who get off on pain, but I never thought I could or would.

I may be a virgin, but I’m not naïve.

“Have you learned your lesson, or would you like more?” he says in my ear. The heat of his breath sends a tingle down my spine and hummingbirds flutter in my belly. My skin prickles with warmth, and my core pulses.

The heavy weight of his body doesn’t move. He’s waiting on an answer, and one falls from my lips without regret. “So much more,” I whisper, and a feral growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against me.

“Good girl.”

Two words in his dark tone torment me. All I want is for him to take me. To show me pleasure—our flesh slapping against each other—but he doesn’t. Instead, he moves away and proceeds to untie me. Pulling me up, he walks me over to the door, stopping short when it flies open and another man in a mask, this time one with a blue stripe adorning it, fills the space.

“You need to finish up. You’re needed upstairs.” My captor nods in response to the order. Rounding the stranger, whose voice I recognize as Samael, we head down the hallway. Once we’re back in my bedroom, he turns to regard me.

“I’ll be back for you later, Firebird,” he grunts, leaving me reeling, needy, and confused.

* * *

“Firebird.” His soft growl comes from behind me, and I roll over onto my back. Shuffling up against the headboard, I find my Wolfe. His dark gaze is primal. “Tonight, I want to take you into the VIP room where you can watch the stage without being seen. It will give you an idea of what is expected of you. As much as I don’t want you to get into this, I don’t have a choice.” His words drip with affection and guilt. Two opposing emotions that shouldn’t be felt together, but he always emanates both. He regards me with apology in those deep brown pools.

If he’s taking me upstairs that means I’ll see others. People who could possibly help me. Maybe just maybe, I can get out.

“You don’t have a choice? Everybody has choices, Wolfe,” I murmur his name, as if I’m savoring it. As if it’s a delicacy. Something to be relished and appreciated. “Let me leave? You can turn a blind eye. I could run.” It’s the first time I mention this to him, and for a moment it looks as if he’s going to agree, but then he shakes his head and my stomach plummets.

“Firebird, you’re too feisty.” He closes the distance between us, swallowing up the air, and I’m immediately breathless from his proximity. My lungs gasp for the air that’s been stolen, but he’s the only one who can give it back. Lifting my chin, I meet his gaze dead on.

“Then you should discipline me,” I taunt him, hoping that my feisty mouth will make him see I can get out. I just need a chance. One strong hand reaches for my face, and I flinch, expecting a harsh slap, but what he does is something far worse. He lightly strokes his fingers over my cheek. My skin tingles, alight with electricity.

“Phoenix, don’t taunt me, please,” he pleads, dropping his gaze from me momentarily, and I immediately miss it. It’s the first time he’s called me Phoenix, the mythological firebird and it warms my heart in a way I’ve never felt.

“Why? You hurt me. You make me want you, come all over your tongue and fingers and then you leave. How do you think that feels?” My words add fuel to his already maddened expression, but I don’t care. A fire deep in my gut blazes. “You listen to me for a change. I’ve never seen you. You’ve seen more of me than any man ever has, yet you expect me to just sit back quietly and agree to all your demands? To stop taunting you?” My mouth purses in a tight line, my arms cross in front of my chest. I wait a moment for him to respond, but he just stares at me.

I decide to up my game. If I can’t reach him by talking, then I’ll make him feel. Reaching for the sheer white dress I’m wearing, I pull hard, and the soft material rips open. I’m bare. His gaze trails from my eyes, down my body, so slowly it feels as if his hands are on me. Teasing me, stroking me, making me ache with need.

“Jesus, Phoenix,” he bites out—growls even—but his gaze lingers. As if he needs to see me. He needs to feast on me with his eyes.

“What? Can’t handle me? Am I too much for you?” That’s when he breaks. Without warning, I’m dragged off the bed and shoved against the wall, my breasts squashed against the cold tiles.

“Do you want this?” he bites out, growling at me as he presses his thick erection against my ass. I can’t move. My head is pressed against the solid surface. His lips whisper over my ear, and my body is aflame with an ache so feral and animalistic, so deep in my core, I swear it’s in my soul. “Let me tell you something, Paige. I’m nice, to a certain extent. Don’t get me wrong, I may be gentle with you, but I do enjoy hurting you too. When you cry out, when you scream, it makes my dick hard, and I want to shove it so far inside your body, it will feel as if I’m climbing inside not only your sweet, wet cunt, but into your mind. So, when you taunt me, it makes my blood boil, and I want to fuck you until you can’t stand. When the only thing you’ll want, or need between your thighs, is me. And as much as I can’t have you forever, I fucking want it so much. I’m going to be sent to hell for it.”

“Then take me to the fiery pit with you, Wolfe.” He spins me around, keeping our bodies flush, but rigid with need. All he does is stare at me with a gaze so piercing, so damn consuming, it feels as if I’m about to combust. “Show me your face, let me see you.”

He shakes his head, turning those dark eyes to the bed. “I can’t. I don’t want you to see the monster behind the mask.” His words grip my heart, squeezing the air from my lungs, and tears prick my eyes. Reaching out, I touch the smooth material of the mask which sits flush against his face. “You shouldn’t want me,” he warns, but I’m not scared. I place a finger under his chin, forcing him to look at me.

“I’m not scared of you, Wolfe. I trust you,” I confess, and I see the flames dance behind those chocolate pools.

“Jesus, Firebird, you can’t, I…” He leans in, his lips inches from mine. The heat of his breath fans over my face, sending fire rushing through my veins.

“Just take me and make me yours. Then nobody will be able to touch me, right?” I know it’s a lie. I’ll still be used. But I want him to be my first. To claim me before any other man does. “Be my first. I’d rather have a man that I want to do it.” His gaze lifts in shock, pinning me to the spot. I hold my breath, waiting for him to deny me, but he reaches for me and lifts me to wrap my legs around his waist.

“I could get into so much shit for this, Paige. For taking your innocence,” he confesses, pain making his tone raspy, but I roll my hips and press my core against his erection.

“Please, Sir,” I murmur the words he loves and his restraint snaps releasing the beast within. He holds on to my hips, and walks us over to the bed. Placing me on my feet, he steps back and narrows his gaze.

“Lie back,” he orders—ever the Dominant—and I obey easily. Flutters in my belly taunt me, and I can’t help the excitement that stirs deep inside me. Losing my virginity was never something I gave much thought to. I’d never given much thought to sex, but right now, with this man who’s standing before me in his tight-fitting white dress shirt, a pair of black slacks, and a mask, I need him. I want him. “Open your legs. Get yourself wet for me,” he orders.

My hand falls between my thighs, and I find I’m already wet. Slick with need. “I’m…” My words taper off, and I know I’m blushing. The heat on my cheeks is evidence that the embarrassment is clear.

“You’re already needy for me, Firebird?” I nod and he smirks. “Good girl,” he says with reverence. “This isn’t going to be gentle. I don’t know if I can hold back with you, Paige. You’ve…” He stops and his hands unbutton the shirt, letting it pool on the floor at his feet. His smooth skin is lightly tanned. Taut muscles greet me now that he’s no longer hidden behind a hoodie.

When his slacks fall to his thick, muscled thighs, I gasp at the erection that juts out at me. I watch in awe as he rips the foil wrapper and sheaths himself. I open my mouth to say something. “I…”

“We don’t have to—” he says, but I cut off his words.

“Yes, we do.” I nod. “Fuck me, please,” I beg in a breathy tone. My body is trembling on the bed as I lay spread before him. My fingers on the bundle of nerves. Without any more words passing between us, he settles over me, pressing me into the bed.

He nudges my opening with the tip of his cock and my body tingles. Electric currents shoot through me at an alarming pace as I grip his shoulders. His hips move and he enters me. “Fuck, that’s tight,” he groans, dropping his forehead to mine. Our eyes are locked. “This isn’t going to be gentle.”

“Do it.”

Before I have time to think, he plunges fully into me and I cry out at being spread open so wide. “Oh god!” A searing pain shoots through me, and I bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs reverently.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” A small smile plays on my lips and he gifts me one back. My heart is in my throat. Tears burn my eyes, but they’re not from the sharp pain, they’re from all the emotion that seems to be stealing the breath from my lungs.

“You’re so tight. So damn perfect,” he grunts as his hips thrust back and forth into mine. Each time he stills allowing me time to adjust. “I can’t—” Reaching for his ass, I grip him, pulling him into me. Needing the pain, wanting the ache to ease. And I know only he can do it.

“Don’t stop,” I hiss through my teeth as the pain and pleasure whirl together in an unending maelstrom, sending me into orbit. My legs tighten around his hips as he bucks against me. Slow at first, but when our eyes meet it’s there. A living breathing entity between us as our bodies connect in the most primal way. Love. We don’t say it. We don’t need to. It’s part of us.

His hips roll back and forth, slowly, torturously, but he obeys me for once and fucks me. He’s not gentle, he’s not sweet and loving, but it’s the most incredible feeling. He isn’t just fucking me. He’s inhaling me, consuming me, and utterly owning me.

This man I covet is giving me everything I want and need, and as our bodies mold and soar, I dig my nails into the soft skin of his tight, muscled ass and hold him inside me. As if I’ll shatter when he pulls out.

Our breathing is ragged. Needy. His body tenses as mine tightens. Everything below my belly button tugs with desire, and I know I’m about to have my first orgasm with a man inside me.

My body bows off the bed, and my eyes shut tight, but he growls in my ear, “Look at me, Firebird. See who’s taking you. Look at the man claiming you, fucking you.” His words have me snapping my eyes open to meet his, and I crest, my body locks, and I shudder through an orgasm that steals not only my breath but my heart, and I know he’s just seared my soul.