Grinning, I took off running, avoiding fallen limbs as I pressed forward, enjoying the feeling of freedom. When I noticed some movement, I crouched behind a large oak tree, peering around the side. One of the members was also hunkered down, waiting as if he’d already found the prey.

  When he took off running, so did I, doing my best to remain quiet.

  Within seconds, it would seem chaos erupted from all sides, the howling sounds the members made sending a shiver of excitement down my back. I pressed on, every muscle tense yet I’d never felt so alive before. The rush of adrenaline was spectacular, pushing me even harder. I challenged myself, trying to remain stealthy in my actions.

  I heard a hard thudding sound. Then another. I weaved my way through the darkness, going on feel more than anything else.

  Until I came upon a clearing, several torches illuminating a small area.

  And in that moment, I experienced a high unlike anything I’d ever felt.

  “Sir. She is in position as requested.”

  Emily’s voice cut through the ugliness, stopping the vision cold. While a part of me was annoyed for the interruption, another was glad to have the imagery ripped from my mind.

  “Thank you, Emily. You can go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I took a deep breath, opening my eyes and making a promise to myself. This time it would end differently because I had control.

  A smile crossed my face. It was time to continue getting to know more about my little dove. Soon, she’d be placed in a gilded cage, provided with everything she needed.

  No one would ever be able to touch her again. If anyone dared try, they would face my wrath.

  And only death would save them.

  First, a shower, removing any possibility that she’d recognize me from my scent.

  Then I’d feast.

  It was going to be a glorious night.

  * * *

  Genevieve

  I’d watched as the powerful man walked from the room, my heart still racing from everything that had occurred. I finally let out the breath I’d been holding, almost crumpling to the floor as the adrenaline began to ebb.

  “Ms. Salazar,” Emily said as she approached.

  “Yes?”

  “Come with me.”

  She was younger than I’d originally thought, but the drab gray attire did little to soften her features. Fear trickled through me, every muscle tense. I had no idea what to expect. While the Patriarch had been merciless, I’d sensed amusement instead of anger.

  But that could change.

  Who’d made the winning bid and why were they being kept a secret?

  I followed her to another part of the building. I’d yet to determine what location they’d used. It would make sense that the Patriarch owned the property. That would allow him to cater to his members’ needs in privacy. The hallway walls were painted in a rich ruby red, the carpet plush and the sconces on the hallway walls gothic.

  She led me to a room, her thumbprint serving as a key.

  As soon as I walked inside, I almost laughed seeing the gothic theme continued, although the canopy bed was equipped with steel rivets and chains, iron bars serving as a headboard. A cage was placed off to the side, handcuffs dangling from the top.

  In direct contrast, there was a table of food and drink, including a bottle of wine. Fruits. Cheeses. Pastries. They were all piled on what appeared to be sterling silver platters. Was my temporary owner trying to seduce me?

  Emily noticed my gaze and smirked. “You may enjoy later but not before. That’s a direct order.”

  “From whom?”

  “Your master.”

  Your master. The two words stuck in my mouth, a storm of butterflies slamming against my stomach walls.

  “Why am I here?” I asked when she headed toward the dresser.

  “Because the prospective buyer requested an immediate session prior to finalizing the contract.”

  Testing out a new model car? I didn’t ask the question, but it was on the tip of my tongue.

  “Does that happen often?” I’d do what I could to glean as much information as possible from her. My thoughts drifted to the contract I’d already seen, the various passages about what could be expected.

  Sex, raw and dominant. Another lump formed in my throat from the thought.

  She opened a drawer, making her selection before answering. When she turned around, it was obvious she enjoyed making the sacrificial lambs nervous. “Absolutely. The members can determine how they want to handle their purchases, including obtaining a full inspection. Place your hands in front of you.”

  “What if this member doesn’t like what he finds?”

  She stared at me, shaking her head. I could only imagine what she was thinking. “I’ve never seen that happen. Please follow my instructions.”

  “Why?”

  “You will learn very quickly that you do as you’re told. Needless questions won’t do anything but earn you harsh punishment.”

  She was just following orders but that didn’t bode well for my inquiring mind. This was all a fabulous act, a requirement by the members. Why did I have a feeling the Patriarch couldn’t stand the pomp and circumstance? There was no reason for me to think that way, but I couldn’t see such a powerful man enjoying something of this nature.

  I held my hands in front, eying the handcuffs. “Tell me about the Patriarch. Is he a true sadist, a psychotic savage?”

  Her reaction was swift, a hard slap across my face jarring and shocking the hell out of me. “You do not speak of our Patriarch that way. He is an incredible man.”

  She sucked in her breath, immediately ceasing any further discussion. As she snapped the shackles around my wrists, her jaw clenched.

  “Why do you work here?” I pushed, twisting my jaw to relieve the ache.

  “Because the Patriarch is good to his employees.” She lifted her gaze, studying my eyes. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I’m curious about the lifestyle.”

  “You should have gone to your local BDSM club. The Tempest is for people eager to take another step.”

  Off a cliff. I didn’t dare mutter the words but that’s what I was thinking. She lifted the mask in her hand.

  “I’m eager to take that step.”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You will not attempt to remove this mask at any time, or you will be eliminated. Is that understood?”

  This was nothing more than a test. The Patriarch wanted to see what I was made of. “Yes.”

  “Sit on the bed. The member will be in shortly.”

  I did as she requested, holding my breath as she placed the mask over my eyes. The instant complete darkness was terrifying. I was claustrophobic and almost instantly the darkness caused a panic attack. As the door was closed, I sucked in my breath.

  There was no sound in the room to keep me company. Within seconds, I realized the quiet was almost as wretched as the blackness.

  Now there was nothing to do but wait.

  Seconds ticked by.

  Minutes.

  The quiet was deafening. My nerves were rattled, my mind conjuring up all the reasons I was being tested. It was obvious the society knew every occupation of its members. I’d known lying wasn’t possible when I’d filled out the application. They knew I was a reporter. With no support of my editor, maintaining a false identity would have been next to impossible. Maybe the Patriarch didn’t care since I’d signed the NDA. Yes, I could be sued, but it was worth the risk.

  I continued to play out the entire scenario, realizing how clueless I’d been. There’d been no safeguards put into place, other than when I turned up missing my boss would certainly call the police. And tell them what?

  I’d been so stupid in getting myself boxed in.

  A slight cracking noise drew my attention, my pulse skyrocketing. Then I almost laughed. I’d read somewhere that when one sense was taken away, the others became much stronger. I was just hearing house noises and nothing else.

  That was it.

  Right?

  My skin started to crawl seconds later. Then a scent slowly floated around me, still musky but entirely different than from before. There was no doubt someone was in the room.

  “I know you’re here,” I half whispered. Fear trickled into my veins but there was a strange rush of sensations, a powerful pull that created shock. I wanted nothing more than to rip off my blindfold, seeing his face.

  Although I suspected he’d be wearing a mask.

  I hadn’t heard him enter the room but in addition to his intoxicating scent, I felt his energy. Maybe his aura. He was electrified, a connection so surprising I was momentarily unable to breathe.

  Then I sensed he’d walked closer. I almost reached out but knew better.

  Another ten seconds passed.

  Twenty.

  What was he waiting for? Was he trying to torture me with keeping me in suspense? Another test. It had to be.

  “Why won’t you talk to me?” I asked. No, I demanded. After another ten seconds passed, I couldn’t take it any longer, lifting both arms, extending my fingers. I expected air, but when I touched something solid, I jerked back, gasping. Not out of horror but because it hadn’t been what I’d expected.

  “They say sensory deprivation can make a person go mad.” His voice was deep, so much so it rumbled in my chest, tickling my senses. There was a roughness to it, husky yet smooth and comforting. I’d give anything to see his face. He was inches away.

  My body reacted strangely, the sound forcing my nipples to harden. “Is that what you’re testing for, to see if I’m sane of mind?”

  He chuckled and I was enthralled by the tone. “Is that what you think? That I’m testing you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very good, Genevieve. You would be right. Tell me what you smell.”

  I shrank back because it seemed he’d come even closer. He was really expecting me to answer. I took a deep breath, realizing almost instantly how much richer the aftershave he was wearing seemed. “Citrus. Ocean water. Allspice.”

  “Nicely done. Tell me what you hear.”

  Swallowing, I took a few seconds, listening to the quiet. “My heartbeat.”

  “What else?”

  A slight sound occurred from the side. “The heat pump just turned on.”

  He chuckled, but there was a slight annoyance in his tone. “You can do better than that.” He’d crowded my space.

  “A train. In the distance but I can feel the rumble, hear the whistle.”

  “Mmm... Yes.” Now the sound mimicked approval. His presence was overwhelming, my skin tingling. A part of me wanted to push him away simply because this wasn’t what I’d wanted in the first place.

  “Good girl.”

  Then he touched me, floating the tips of his fingers down my cheek. I shivered, but a flash of heat began to build in my core. How was this possible? I found it interesting that his praise meant something to me. I’d never gotten any from my father as a child, the horror show of my abusive past the reason.

  “Lie back on the bed for me,” he commanded, the richness of his voice comforting.

  I found myself doing what he asked although my muscles remained tense. I rested my arms again my chest, trying to control my breathing.

  “The power of sensory deprivation is intense, allowing the subject to experience heightened awareness,” he said as he gently pulled my arms over my head, stretching them out. When he yanked me up by several inches, a moan escaped. “There’s no need to fear me. Just relax.”

  Relax. I wasn’t certain that was possible.

  When he tugged on the chain between the handcuffs, I stiffened. “What are you going to do?” My voice was suddenly small.

  Another metal sound assaulted my senses. I was being secured to the iron bars. Another wave of panic started to settle in. I wanted to scream that I couldn’t handle this, but I wasn’t ready to give up on the story. Not yet.

  Suddenly, his hot breath tickled my face, an irrational flash of desire tearing through me. I couldn’t believe I was excited.

  “My beautiful flower,” he said as he trailed a single finger down my cheek to my neck, moving slowly to my side. There was a rustling sound and within seconds, cold metal was skimmed across my naked stomach. The next more subtle sound came close to shattering my last resolve.

  He was cutting open the skimpy top, peeling away the material and exposing my breasts.

  “The answer is simple. I’m going to feast on your sweet pussy. Then I’m going to fuck you.”

  Chapter Four

  Genevieve

  There was no pretense in his words, no fairytale way of telling me what he had planned. If this was a normal situation, a first date, I’d fight him with everything I had. But this was something else entirely.

  Dirty.

  Filthy.

  Sin.

  And I’d agreed to it.

  My entire body was tingling, as if the electricity in the room had reached an arc, a point where the energy had become combustible. I wiggled but the handcuffs were tight, enough so there was no room to move. I fisted then flexed my hands, rustling sounds creating a dark and dangerous anticipation. Was he removing his clothes? Was he wearing a mask? How would he touch me?

  I was shocked that sound and smell were so distinct, every subtlety raw and powerful. Still, I wanted nothing more than to gaze on the man who’d raised an invisible paddle. My breath skipped, my pulse racing and when I felt weight compressing the bed, I shuddered audibly.

  “Are you frightened of me, my little dove?”

  Swallowing, I shook my head, but his deep chuckle indicated he knew I was terrified. But of what? The man behind the mystery or the act itself?

  Or both?

  After the ugly twists and turns in my life, I’d stopped looking for boogeymen under my bed. They existed in the real world, men and women who looked like everyone else.

  Including my father.

  The term. Dove. I sucked in my breath at the ugly realization. That’s what I’d been called before being dumped in a trunk.

  “You kidnapped me. It was you!” I knew it with certainty. The thought was revolting but also...

  He laughed softly, the sound getting under my skin. “You’ll learn I take what I want. Besides, you were very clear on your providing your interests. Consensual non-consent? Primal play?”

  I’d almost forgotten I’d written those down. I nodded in response.

  “However, I need to make it perfectly clear that allowing you to provide your preferences doesn’t mean you’ll be granted a choice. You’ve already agreed to provide what your purchaser desires.”

  The way he issued the words sent another tremor of fear into my system.

  “I remember. Should I be frightened of you?”

  “Yes,” he growled, the low rumble of his voice carving a permanent place in my mind.

  “Why?”

  “Because I will ruin you.”

  I didn’t feel the kind of terror he longed for me to, instead reaching a level of hunger that only he could satisfy.

  While I was crazy for thinking so, the realization was freeing.

  Seconds ticked by without any sound or movement. A full minute. Then two. What was he doing? I shifted again, this time the steel shackles clanging against the iron posts. When I sensed he was hovering over me, I sucked in my breath. The second I felt his fingers dancing along the inside of one leg, my body reacted involuntarily, trying to jerk away, the slight shock penetrating every molecule.

  Suddenly, he wrapped his fingers around one leg, his hold firm. “Do not move or I’ll be forced to tie your legs and I’d preferred not to do that for our first time.”

  His voice skittered over me, the soft velvet of the intense husk setting my senses on fire. Panting, I nodded as if he’d asked for an answer.

  He dug his fingers into my skin as if making a point. Then he patted my leg. “Good girl. Yes, I can tell you’ll be a very good girl for me.”

  What was it about his praise that soothed me, boosting the eagerness for his touch?

  Still tense as he brushed the rough pads of his fingers up the inside of my leg, I tried not to panic. I’d never done anything like this, no boyfriend ever trying to keep me immobile. It was titillating, awakening, and crazy.

  He continued his exploration, shifting his hand to my other leg, slowly rolling his fingers back to my feet. Then he removed my heels, taking his time to do so. I didn’t hear them being dropped or tossed. They were just gone. As he slipped his fingers under the waistband of my skirt, I couldn’t stop shivering. Soon, I’d be naked in front of him, more vulnerable than I’d ever been in my life.

  “Lift your hips, little lamb,” he instructed and I did so without hesitation. “Yes, there you go. Such a sweet girl.”

  His words of approval were strangely opposite of what he was prepared to do. I absorbed the moment as he tugged the gauzy material all the way down my legs, tossing the unwanted skirt aside. Then the bed shifted again and the first seconds of his hot breath cascading over my already heated skin lit a fire deep within, my core explosive.

  “Oh. Oh...” My moan was scattered, barely audible. I sensed I’d pleased him, his breathing heavier.

  When he reached my inner thighs, I almost disobeyed him but managed to stay in position.

  “You’re already wet for me,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  The hard slap on my mound produced a yelp that I couldn’t contain.

  “You will address me with respect. For thirty days, I am your master. You will breathe, eat, sleep, fuck, and talk when I tell you to. Is that clear?”

  Now I was hesitant, but the draw to the man was so powerful my breath was stolen. “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Excellent. Now, we begin.”

  Begin. He made the statement as if I was a science experiment. Goosebumps popped along every inch of naked skin, my mind drifting into a moment of Never-Neverland. This was crazy, twisted, and incredible. The rules in the contract were made clear. He couldn’t harm me physically. But he could hurt me, punishing me for any infraction. My mind wandered to what I’d read about dark kinky activities. Visions drifted into my mind of various apparatuses, instruments of pain.