This has been my motto. A motto that was drilled into my head at a young age. It’s who I am. Who I’m expected to be. All of that changes when he walks into my life.
I can’t lie.
I can’t hide.
I can’t deceive.
As my personal security guard, he sees through me and makes me second guess everything. I can’t escape him or the way he makes me feel. He makes me smile. He makes me want more from life.
Can I sacrifice those who depend on me for my own happiness?
I’m Elizabeth Fitzgerald.
I’m a Senator’s wife.
And I hate my life.
Keep it professional.
I had one job to do, and falling for Elizabeth Fitzgerald was not it. Being former Special Forces, I’m no stranger to fighting, but this is different. This is personal. The stakes feel much higher and the struggle to save her will be my most challenging mission yet.
But I have a secret. A secret that threatens to tear apart everything we’ve built.
You know me as Alex Matthews.
My mistake was getting involved with her, knowing what was on the line.
Their mistake was taking me away from her.
“Hidden in Lies by Rachael Duncan was simply wonderful. It’s a story that shows that picture perfect outside isn’t always picture perfect inside.” ~ Give Me Books
“I really enjoyed this book. It was sweet, sexy, steamy, suspenseful, and had quite a few twists and turns along the way. This book was really good and just as the getting was getting good… BAM, the book ended making me want so much more.” ~ Renee Entress’ Book Blog – Hidden In Lies
“Great action packed story full of suspense. Questions we had from book one are answered in this part of the story. Gotta admit I preferred this book than book one. Loved it.” ~ 2 Friends Pimp Your Books – Uncovered by Truth
“Overall I really enjoyed this closure of their story. I also enjoyed the danger and suspense that seemed more prominent in this book. It made it a page turner for sure. I didn’t want to put it down, I was totally engrossed in this story and was well satisfied with the ending.” ~ Nerdy, Dirty & Flirty – Uncovered by Truth
“That’s right, baby. You take that cock, you dirty little whore.” He grabs the back of my head and pushes down as he thrusts up. My gag reflexes kick in as he hits the back of my throat with each push. My jaw tightens trying to reject the intrusion. “Don’t you ever deny me again, you understand? Fucking whores like you love the cock,” he says through gritted teeth. Tears spring to my eyes as he continues to punish my mouth over and over. I’m trying to pull back slightly to ease the ache in my jaw, but he won’t let up. A slew of curse words, rants, and names are thrown out at me.
Bitch. Suck it harder. Fuck. Deeper. Slut.
He makes sure to take every ounce of his pleasure from me. Squeezing my eyes shut, unshed tears spill over and run down my cheeks. In this moment, I feel something I haven’t felt before, and it’s all-consuming.
Hate.
I’ve never been in love with him, but tonight I fucking hate Cal.
“Open your eyes now,” he barks out at me. I comply and don’t try to hide the rage burning within them. I stare into his eyes as he slams into my mouth over and over again. The sad thing is I think my anger and apparent resentment turns him on. Within a handful of seconds I feel him tensing. “You’re going to swallow every last drop. Just like a good little slut.” I do as I’m told as fast as I can, not wanting his taste to linger on my tongue any longer than it has to. He pats the top of my head like a fucking dog and says, “Good job, babe,” and then walks off toward the bathroom.
I crawl over to my side of the bed and collapse into my pillow. After a few moments, I notice the pillow feels wet. That’s when I notice that an endless stream of tears has been falling from my eyes. Never in my life have I felt so cheap, used, broken …
Violated.
Rachael Duncan is an Army wife living in North Carolina with her husband and two kids. She grew up in Nashville, Tennessee and went on to graduate from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville with a bachelor’s degree in political science. After working on Capitol Hill for a short time, she realized that a career in politics just wasn’t for her. A couple years later, she rediscovered her love for reading and writing. She’s the author of Tackled by Love as well.
This book contains elements that may be disturbing and offensive. Please read with caution if you are triggered by events depicting violence and various forms of abuse.
On the seventh day of the seventh year… she desecrates.
Evil keeps a formidable schedule in Weston, West Virginia. Every seventh year, spirits from the town’s abandoned insane asylum seek worthy souls to command. But this seventh year, a desecration unlike any before is scheduled to ravage the town. And Solomon Gorge is lured to the harrowing event by the screams of Silence.
:::Excerpt:::
Silence focused her mind, bringing the erratic race of her pulse back into her control. Again. She was finally there. In The Hallower. She didn’t permit herself to look about but her peripheral said she’d been wrong about the most holy chamber. The torture devices and horrific tools she’d imagined hanging from the ceiling and walls did not exist.
Six years. She could hardly believe it had passed. Six years as ‘Silence’ ended today. No, six years of silent Contemplation ended today. But it really didn’t end. There would never be a time when she didn’t contemplate what came next. And what would her new name be? She never permitted herself the blasphemy of trying to guess. Today she’d know.
She carefully slid her gaze to the single entrance leading in. A small door made of thick slats of wood, held together by decorative black metal. The entire room was black—walls, ceilings, floor—all a rough stone painted a shiny looking onyx. And empty. Except for the single slab of granite in the shape of a hobbit table where she sat in her ceremonial graduation gown. It reminded her of a wedding dress.
Would Master be the one to usher in the final phase? Her stomach clenched in excitement and she immediately calmed the fleshly rebellion. She secretly hoped he did. She’d never met the Order’s Queen but once, and even then Silence was not permitted to look upon her as an unlearned runt.
Silence was used to Master’s ways, even though all feared him. The Dark Legend of their Order had trained her personally in the most Holy arts of pain and fear. Any fear borne outside of her Master’s care was destructive—that was one of her first lessons. There were good fears and bad. The bad fears were counterproductive to the Order, the good fears protected it. And Holy Fear with pain were gifts she received directly from her Master’s hands. And only her complete submission provided the divine covering required to fulfill her role as the Queen’s chosen Redemptrix.
Her calm insides jolted at the clang of the outer door leading to The Hallower. She faced straight ahead in deferring obedience, eyes cast to the floor. The Hallower door opened next and her peripheral said the entirely nude form was indeed Master. She let out a silent breath of relief.
He shut the door. One metal bolt clanked… then another… then another. Her heart hammered in her ears despite her steady breaths. It was always this way. No matter how practiced she was with Master’s training, her body knew. Muscle memory always braced for sure impact of some sort.
“Sweet Silence,” he said when he stood before her.
She stared at his hardened phallus, leaning to place the customary kiss on the butterfly tattoo wrapping its length. He stopped her with a pointer finger on her forehead.
“Not this time.”
Again Silence braced, mostly in confusion. She didn’t remember a single time when he didn’t require the Butterfly Kiss. She still remembered the day he had the vision to get the tattoo. The butterfly on the phallus symbolized that the lost would be ushered to heaven’s door by the seed of Master. During her Silent Contemplation she’d marveled over his interpretation, glad that he seemed to be getting some of her gifts.
She hoped he got all of them.
“You look beautiful in your graduation gown, Silence.” He stroked that same finger along her face, beginning with her temple. Her mind flashed with past disciplines he’d put her through. There was no part of her body he’d not trained in some way, for some sacred reason.
“Thank you, Master.”
She listened closely to his unsteady breaths, thick with the scent of fermented juice. “Are you nervous?”
“No, Master.”
The several grunts followed by strained groans told her he was having divine revelations. “Six years of Silence to usher in the final phase.” The withered words came with the glide of his finger over her lips, lingering long enough for her to know what he wanted. But when she parted her lips to suck, he drew it away, bringing another surprise. “Are you ready, little one?”
“Yes, Master.” The bad fears made her breaths shallow as she struggled with old flight or fight instincts.
Why wouldn’t he let her suck it? It was always the not knowing parts that got her, it always was. What he would do each time. He liked surprising her. It had become an unspoken duel between them—her to anticipate, and him to be unpredictable.
A gasp escaped her as she fumbled with the reigns on her control. Master was the one person she would always fear. She was supposed to fear him and only him. Fearing him was allowed, it was good, it was expected, demanded.
Think of the Hallowing Ceremony. Graduating to the next phase. Six years of silence is over.
Sudden terror hit her as she remembered. The dream. The vision for her new name. There had been none.
“So much fear, little one.’His voice croaked with disappointment as he tilted her face up with that same finger, now under her chin. “I am sure you’re eager for your new name.” He began a slow trek to the right of her, his finger gliding off as he went. Silence refused to allow her gaze to stray from straight before her. He’d had the dream? The vision? “I too, am ready to hear it.”
He’d not. Terror raced back in and she swallowed at what this might mean. “There was none.” Her voice rang out with a strength despite the quiver in her gut.
His deep low chuckle behind her, tickled along her spine. “I know,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly at her ear. “Because I was given the dream this time.”
The beat of her heart became a wallop in her chest. Breathe, Silence.
“I’m sure you’re eager to know it?” he said lightly, slowly coming back around on her left now.
“I am excited to learn it.”
“And I’m excited to tell you.” He came to stand exactly before her again. Silence gripped her dress in tight fists as he placed his hands on either side of her head. He pulled her to his phallus, moving his hips side to side lightly. She waited for his direction, knowing not to engage until he communicated firmly. “I had a vision of your new name, little one. A vision of a hand writing on the wall next to my bed.” The tip of his penis stroked errantly over her cheek and lips, meandering and without purpose. “Do you know what it said, sweet angel?”
She shook her head only barely. “No, Master.”
*****ABUSIVE PART BELOW*****
His fingers suddenly bit down in her hair, pulling harder than he’d ever done before. She fought to look him in the eyes the way he always insisted when milking for his essence. But he shoved so far in so quickly and she hadn’t had time to relax her throat, already it burned and hurt. “Talk to me Silence. One last time before you leave,” he growled, grabbing the hair on top of her head while he pinched her nose shut. “Tell Master how much you will miss him. How you will never forget him. How you will only think of him,” he hissed, pounding his penis harder against her throat.
Silence struggled to give him what he wanted, but her body refused, it always did.
“Tell me!” he ordered between grunts and thick groans.
She tried again. She tried so hard.
His fist shot down and slammed into her forehead. A familiar numb buzzing filled her skull and ears. “Tell me Silence, tell me how much you’ll miss me while you fuck our sacrifice!”
She did it in her mind. She screamed until she had no more breath. She screamed as loud and hard as she could, like he wanted her to, but it came as silence. Something had broken inside her years ago. She couldn’t remember the exact day, she just knew it had. She could no longer scream. It was as though she’d forgotten how or lost the ability. No matter how much he beat her or hurt her body, her mind disconnected from everything and she couldn’t. She could feel the pain but she was trapped in silence. Just like her name.
Living the American Dream Shelby had everything she could have dreamed of. A handsome husband two wonderful children a beautiful home and a great job.
What else could she ask for?
In an instant her world is turned upside down when she innocently looks at her husband’s phone. With this Devastating discovery Shelby has to decide if she will walk away from twenty years of marriage or will she find a way to fit into Grant’s erotic world?
Will she walk on the wild side she never knew she had? How far will she go? If she crosses the line will she be able to live with herself when the sun comes up? Or will she let her over conservative personality end her marriage?
“Enough with all this chit-chat, Grant, come fuck me,” I say as I pull him into the room.
“Always, my Bossy Girl!” He does as he’s told, and he does it quick. He doesn’t remove a shred of my clothing. Picking me up swiftly, he lays me across the bed and heads back to the door to lock it. Walking back from the door, he unzips his pants. Once he reaches me, he turns me over and pushes my shoulders down on the bed.
He enters me with force and pounds quickly. It feels so sexy for him to be so dominant. It takes him a moment to regain control of himself to give me steady thrusts. I am now able to rock back and forth on my knees to meet him. My skirt is pushed up high on my waist, with my breasts spilling out of my corset. Grant’s hands are firm on my hips pulling me back and forth. I love when he pulls all the way out letting me feel his entire length.
Slowing his motions, I feel his cock grow larger. I feel the walls of my pussy contract onto him as my orgasm comes over me in a pulsating wave. It literally starts in my toes and moves through my entire body all the way up to my head. He slows down just enough to let me catch my breath, but does not stop thrusting , making it that much better.
After passionately rolling around in the bed for a few minutes, I’m able to get on top of him, and I brace my arms on the headboard behind his head. His green eyes stare up at me. Using the headboard for support, I ride him with force and depth. I am so wet, my slickness allows my clit to rub on his pelvis. I feel my orgasm coming again so soon, and I want Grant to come with me. “Do you like my soaking wet pussy on you? Do you want me to fuck you harder?” He gets so turned on by dirty talk, and right on cue, we both come together with fireworks. I ride him slowly until I no longer feel him pulsating inside of me. I collapse on top of him as he wraps his arms around me, flipping us over and devouring me in kisses.
After losing her husband Samantha throws her life into recreating her Great Aunts erotic club on Bourbon Street. She does her best to avoid getting close to any man but how long can she hold out when Parke enters her life? While trying to avoid her attraction to Parke Samantha tries her best to make her club a hit by hiring the most beautiful people in New Orleans.
During the hiring process Shelby begs her to hire a women she met at the battered women’s shelter. Reluctantly Samantha caves and hires Sunny not knowing much about her. Will this hire bring down her entire club? Samantha has no idea that Sunny is running from a man, a man that has vowed to find her and kill her if she ever ran from him again. As the President of the MC group The Flaming Dragons his reach is far and wide. Will he find her? Can Sunny’s new love interest Jackson keep her safe?
“That has never happened to me before,” I whisper. “What are you doing to me, Jackson?” I grin up at him.
“About to make love to you,” he says, pulling the belt around my waist releasing my dress. It slides down my newly shaven legs pooling at my feet. “If that is a new feeling to you, I have a lot of catching up to do, babe.”
“You will have to wait your turn for show and tell, handsome.” Dropping to my knees, I pull the string on his pants releasing them to find their place in a pool across from my dress. My eyes have to be as big as saucers right now. First of all, he is commando, yep, nothing under those sexy pants of his but his pure hot muscles of steel. Secondly and most importantly, I’m taken by his size. He’s a very large man standing at 6’3” with the most beautiful penis I have ever seen. I know, ladies, they’re not really pretty, but you haven’t seen this one. It’s long and thick with a perfectly round head. I stare at it in amazement watching it jerk under my gaze.
“You’re killing me up here. Snap out of the daydream, darling.”
I look up at him from under my eyelashes slowly taking him into my mouth and placing one hand at his shaft not sure I’ll be able to take all of him. But I’m sure as hell going to try. I hear him groan as I open a little wider to let him go deeper working his shaft with my other hand. I slowly pull away licking his slit gently while massaging his balls.
“Fuck, Sunny, you have to slow down or I’m gonna lose my shit here.”
I ignore his plea taking him in again and sucking hard while pulling away. The sense of power I feel right now is so exhilarating, I feel the wetness increasing. When I feel his balls tighten, I know I’m almost home free. But before I take him down again, his large arms are under mine pulling me into his. I wrap my legs around his waist pressing my heels into his firm ass while he walks to the sofa.
“I can’t wait another damn minute, Sunny, I need to be inside of you like yesterday.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Jackson, I’m so wet for you.”
I pray to be forgiven for my sins, but the prayers of someone like me won’t dare breach the edge of heaven.
Sins. All sins are equal in the eyes of God, but I’m not God. Some sins are far more wretched than others. And those sinners should pay, Evelyn. One sinner made me his sin, and I can’t let men like him live. They must face their judgement, Evelyn. I want to kill them. Every. Last. One.
Ezra James is no different, and I wanted to kill him, I needed to kill him, I’m was going to kill him…And then I found myself fascinated by him, obsessed and possessed in the most reverent of ways. I became his sinner, and he became my sin, but the wages of sin is death, so I must kill him.
Ezra
The son of a whore, raised by gangsters, moulded into a key player in a corrupt world ruled by money and completely without morals.
This world can break a person. I’ve seen it time and time again. I never gave a shit, until the night I watched a man drop dead at the feet of a woman so broken she made even me feel whole. My little killer called to my depravity and everything in me demanded that I take her, possess her, own her.
Some monsters hide behind the faces of angels, where others stand in plain sight.
Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.
She’s a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.
Stevie J. Cole is a secret rock star. Sex, drugs and, oh wait, no, just sex. She’s a whore for a British accent and has an unhealthy obsession with Russell Brand. She and LP plan to elope in Vegas and breed the world’s most epic child.
For its two-year anniversary and the upcoming release of Fusion, book 5 in the Explosive series, Ignite is getting a bit of a makeover! Along with the new cover, it has been revised and re-formatted! And stay tuned! Ignite will be just 99 cents on re-release day!
Synopsis
In just twenty-seven short years, Alexa Sullivan Tate has already lost the two great loves of her life. One to the Army; the other in a tragic car accident. Two years after the latter, a ghost from the past reappears, igniting feelings in Alexa she’d thought long dormant. Jace McAllister has spent the last ten years in the Army, defusing bomb after bomb, trying to forget the girl who once set his world on fire. For him, she’s always been the one who got away. After a not-so-chance encounter places her back in his line of sight, he’s locked eyes on target, and won’t let her go without a fight. Ten years ago their chemistry smoldered, and now the sparks threaten to light a fuse leading to an explosion between them even Jace can’t control. Not that he wants to. But when love has slipped through your fingertips before, how can you trust it will once again remain?Will Alexa’s fear of love and loss destroy their second chance at a beautiful future before it can even begin?
Tessa is a twenty something book junkie who is also obsessed with sports. She works for the government during the day, hangs out with Air National Guard on the weekends, and has been married to her own book boyfriend for nine years. If she’s not writing or looking through tons of photos of hot men, all in the name of research, then you can probably find her curled up with my Kindle, ignoring the rest of the world.
Sometimes a single touch is all it takes to spark a wildfire.
Erin Warner learned that the day she bumped into the dashing, tattooed stranger on a busy Chicago street corner. She’s captivated from the moment his mystifying green eyes find hers, and it isn’t long before she finds herself flying to exotic locales to assist him, the award-winning erotic photographer Hunter Ellis, on location. What she didn’t bargain for was the way he makes her blood bubble and churn with lust and thinly-veiled promises of unfathomable erotic pleasure with every click of his camera.
But there is more to Hunter than meets the eye, including the intricately etched tattoos decorating his body that disguise horrific scars from a past he refuses to revisit. As she peels away the layers, Erin realizes that what she thought was true, never really was at all, for both of them.
Now she can only hope that blind adoration for the dashing stranger didn’t sign her death warrant.
The first in a thrilling new erotic serial intended for mature audiences.
My heart pounded in unwavering beats. I stood over him, tears rushing down my cheeks, my eyes unblinking at the slumped form sprawled across the seeping maroon concrete.
“Hunter,” I sobbed and dropped to my knees, the concrete grating the denim, soaking the blood clear through. I didn’t care. All I saw was him, because for the first time since we’d met, I couldn’t feel him.
“Hunter, please, breathe,” I whimpered and dropped my ear to his barely parted lips. The lips I’d pressed to mine tenderly, the lips that had roamed my skin and caressed my body.
“Hunter—” I choked on the words as tears rained down my cheeks, my hands and body trembling so fiercely I couldn’t focus long enough to tell if he was breathing.
I can’t feel him. He’s gone.
“Hunter,” I whispered and tried to still my misfiring heart.
“He’s dead, Erin.” A voice echoed over my shoulder and sent chills racing down my spine. No. NO. “No!” I turned to find empty pits of burnt amber assessing me.
“What did you do?” I shrieked and balled my tiny fists into the hard rock wall of the man towering over me. His hands caught my wrists with ease and halted my assault.
“Don’t fuck with me.” The familiar eyes tore into mine as I hunkered from his imposing force. His grip tightened painfully, ripping a grunt past my lips.
“No,” I moaned, ready to collapse at Hunter’s slouched form. Nothing mattered — the world ceased moving when Hunter’s heart had stopped in his chest.
“Let’s go.” John Walker hauled me from the concrete and carried me through the dark corridors of the warehouse and away from the man who’d promised he’d always protect me.
Adriane Leigh was born and raised in a snowbank in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and now lives among the sand dunes of the Lake Michigan lakeshore.
She graduated with a Literature degree but never particularly enjoyed reading Shakespeare or Chaucer.
She is married to a tall, dark, and handsome guy, and plays mama to two sweet baby girls. She is a voracious reader and wishes she had more time to knit scarves to keep her warm during the arctic Michigan winters.
“Dark, perverse, and unbearably erotic, Pretty When You Cry is Skye Warren at her gritty best.”
~ Anna Zaires, USA Today bestselling author of Twist Me
A new dark romance novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Wanderlust and Prisoner…
I came from a place of dirt floors and holy scriptures. They told me the world outside was full of sin, and the first night I escape, I find out it’s true. Ivan saves me, but he does more than that. He takes me. He makes me his own girl.
My conditioning runs too deep. Ivan sees what I am.
That’s the thing about showing a mouse to a cat. He wants to play. And it’s terrifying, even for me. Because the only thing darker than my past is his.
He’s beautiful in a strange and sinful way, one that makes me more afraid. Not colorful exactly. His eyes are a gray color I’ve never seen before, both deep and opaque at the same time. The building itself is beautiful too with its wrought iron gate around a large courtyard. The fountain in the center is broken, but that only adds to the mystique.
The marquee sign reads Grand, a flash of neon pink against the black night.
He steps closer, the light from the sign illuminating his face, making him look even more sinister. “What’s your name?”
I couldn’t answer those other men, but I find something inside for him. I find truth. “I’m not allowed to say my name to someone else.”
He studies me for a long moment, taking in my tangled hair and my white dress. “Why not?”
Because God will punish me. “Because I’m running away.”
He nods like this is what he expected. “Do you have money?”
I have twenty dollars left after bus fare. “Enough.”
His lips twist, and I wonder if that’s what a smile looks like on him. It’s terrifying. “No, you don’t,” he says. “The question is, what would you do to earn some?”
Anything.
My voice is just a whisper. “I’m a good girl.”
He laughs, and I see that I was wrong before. That wasn’t a smile. It was a taunt. A challenge. This is a real smile, one with teeth. The sound rolls through me like a coming storm, deep and foreboding.
“I know,” he says gently. “What’s your name?”
“Candace.”
He studies me. “Pretty name.”
His voice is deep with promise and something else I can’t decipher. All I know is he isn’t really talking about my name. And I know it isn’t really a compliment. “Thank you.”
“Now come inside, Candace.”
He turns and walks away before I can answer. I can feel the night closing in on me, the sharks in the water waiting to strike. It’s not really a choice. I think the man knows that. He’s counting on it. Whatever is going to happen inside will be bad, and the only thing worse is what would have happened outside.
I hurry to catch up with him, almost running across the crumbled driveway, under the marquee sign for the Grand, past the broken fountain, desperate for the dubious safety of the man who could hold the darkness at bay. It’s the same thing that kept me in Harmony Hills for so long—fear and twisted gratitude.
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dark romance such as Wanderlust and Prisoner. Praised as a “true mistress of dark erotica”, her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Houston, Texas, with her loving family, three dogs, and one evil cat.
A new dark romance novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Wanderlust and Prisoner…
I came from a place of dirt floors and holy scriptures. They told me the world outside was full of sin, and the first night I escape, I find out it’s true. Ivan saves me, but he does more than that. He takes me. He makes me his own girl.
My conditioning runs too deep. Ivan sees what I am.
That’s the thing about showing a mouse to a cat. He wants to play. And it’s terrifying, even for me. Because the only thing darker than my past is his.
“Dark, perverse, and unbearably erotic, Pretty When You Cry is Skye Warren at her gritty best.”
~ Anna Zaires, USA Today bestselling author of Twist Me
A new dark romance novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Wanderlust and Prisoner…
I came from a place of dirt floors and holy scriptures. They told me the world outside was full of sin, and the first night I escape, I find out it’s true. Ivan saves me, but he does more than that. He takes me. He makes me his own girl.
My conditioning runs too deep. Ivan sees what I am.
That’s the thing about showing a mouse to a cat. He wants to play. And it’s terrifying, even for me. Because the only thing darker than my past is his.
“Candace,” he says in the same deep voice of my dream.
And there’s a look in his eyes, the same look Leader Allen gives Mama. The same look he started giving me. That look is the reason Mama sent me away.
“You’ll stay here,” he says softly. “I don’t want you to dance, but you can stay.”
The allure of it beats through me, a heart of its own, thumping away to a dream that isn’t mine. Safety. Home. I want those things, but I want freedom more. I want the flash of lights and of skin. I want the power those women had onstage.
Ivan wants to put me in a cage, but what I really want is to fly.
“Okay,” I lie, because one sin becomes many. Leader Allen taught me that, and he was right. I’ll convince Ivan, though. One day I’ll dance on that stage, and Ivan will watch me.
One day he’ll teach me everything there is to know.
“Good girl.”
The praise washes over me, undeserved and darkly pleasurable, a stroke along my spine. It feels good, but I know what it is. A trap. A chain around my ankle to keep me on the ground. In this moment, it locks me so tight that I’d accept anything he did to me. If he were to touch me the way the woman with the kind eyes meant. The way Leader Allen touches Mama during prayer.
Ivan leans down, and I hold my breath. Large hands take hold of the blanket, lift slightly. I feel everything between us—anticipation and denial, lust and fear corded together. We feel them together, breathe them in through the air, pulse them with each beat of our hearts. It’s a kind of knowledge, this feeling, connecting a thousand nerve points to the core of my body. This is what he meant by teaching me. This and so much more.
Then he pulls the blanket higher, tucking it around me. “Good night,” he says, eyes glittering in the dark.
He is silver and light, made even brighter by the shadows behind him. It’s strange, the disappointment I feel that he isn’t going to touch me. He isn’t going to teach me. Not tonight. “Good night,” I whisper back.
Then he’s gone, shutting the door against the dark, locking me in. And I slide away into sleep, without dreams, without color, with only the shameless black of contentedness, knowing I am safe for the night.
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dark romance such as Wanderlust and Prisoner. Praised as a “true mistress of dark erotica”, her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Houston, Texas, with her loving family, three dogs, and one evil cat.
Rachael Duncan is an Army wife living in North Carolina with her husband and two kids. She grew up in Nashville, Tennessee and went on to graduate from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville with a bachelor’s degree in political science. After working on Capitol Hill for a short time, she realized that a career in politics just wasn’t for her. A couple years later, she rediscovered her love for reading and writing. She’s the author of Tackled by Love as well.
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