Page 7 of Depraved

“Perfection.”

My nipples pebble against the cold that sweeps over my bare chest as Dante lifts a hand, his finger finding my mouth and pushing inside.

I suck, pulling in my cheeks as the elevator dings. The doors slide open to reveal the entrance to his penthouse. He takes a step out, blocking the door with his foot, and pulls his finger from my mouth.

He traces the wetness down over my neck and chest as my head falls back, all the way to my nipple, circling the hard bud.

I hear him laugh appreciatively when I shiver.

“Walk inside to the living room and sit…ass on your feet. Tonight, you’re mine to do with as I please, without question. This is the only time I’ll give you a choice. The minute you set foot in this house, that’s my permission until you say your word. You understand?”

My eyes connect with his, and I take a confident step forward, gripping his chin and pulling it down to look at me.

“I understand completely…until I say stop. You’ll dominate, and I’ll submit. But you understand that you get tonight and only tonight?” I purr as I release him, and he nods slowly.

“Make it count,” I dare as I saunter the fuck out of the elevator and straight into hell.

One week later

MY PHONE BUZZES FOR THEfive hundredth time, causing my shoulders to tense as I hit ignore. I need to change my number. But I know that’s just another Band-Aid until I’m found again and old wounds are torn open.

It’s been three years this time: three years of bliss.

And now it’s over. It’s crazy how my life changed for the better and the worse in one night.

The vibration starts again just as fast as it ended. “Go the fuck away,” I breathe harshly, turning off my cell and throwing it into the bottom of my desk drawer.

Closing it with more force than necessary, I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves before reaching for one of the many portfolios I have strewn across my desk.

Work. I need to focus on work.

The stacks of unvetted potential members in front of me seem never ending, but it’s only because I’m trying to get as much done as I can before I disappear.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to care about something, and I don’t want it to go to hell when I leave.

When, notif, I leave.

The thought makes the tightness grow in my chest again.

My time is ticking here, and I hate it. I don’t want to leave Chicago. My apartment. My people. The life I was beginning to live.

Jesus, I’d just finally started to let myself breathe again and desire something. Goddammit.

The calls started the night I left Dante’s apartment. I was on a high put there by a man I was determined to keep as a one-night stand, but even as I left him sleeping in his bed, I knew that would be a fight I might not win.

And I was okay with that.

But then all possibilities leapt off the side of his building, crashing to a bloody death as soon as my phone rang.

When I answered, the familiar voice on the other end said, “One step closer,” before the line disconnected.

All good things come to an end. That’s the saying.

And when my family finds me here, they’ll make sure to bring all the bad with them and end my peace.

Family is the wrong word to describe them.

They’re the worst of the worst—desperate for power and corrupted by greed. I grew up with petty criminals, con artists, and thieves. Men with no loyalties and no interest outside of their own. It was “eat or be eaten” in our house, especially after my mom died, and I got really tired of being chewed up and spit out, so I escaped.