Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“I know. I miss you, too. I’ve been so busy with the opening of the gallery and with Locke—but… come to The Vault tonight. Meet me there.”
“What? Really? The Vault!”
“Yes, really,” Storee insists. “Locke said I could come with him tonight, and I’ll make sure your name is on the list so there are no issues getting inside.”
“Are you sure? The last time we snuck into The Vault, I thought Locke banned us?”
“I’m sure. He’s softening… sort of,” she says with a chuckle.
The Vault is one of the most exclusive sex clubs on the West Coast, and getting in is nearly impossible without connections. But I suppose being best friends with the girlfriend of one of the owners puts me in the connected category now.
I smile to myself, excitement bubbling up inside me at the prospect of a night out at The Vault. “Okay, I’ll be there. Thanks for thinking of me.”
After hanging up, I pour myself a glass of the expensive wine from the basket and settle onto the couch. It’s five o’clock somewhere, after all, and I earned the drink after last night. Despite the lingering ache between my thighs, a sense of contentment washes over me. The thrill of The Hunt still lurks inside me, that delicious combination of fear and power. Not to mention doing something that would give my father a fucking stroke.
I know the dangers, of course. Storee’s warning echoes in my mind. But something primal awoke within me last night, a fierce need to surrender control while also seizing it for myself. It’s intoxicating in a way I can’t quite explain.
As I sip the rich wine, I replay the previous night’s events. The way the hunter stalked me through the dense forest, his hungry gaze raking over my body. The pounding of my heart when he finally struck, tackling me to the mossy ground. The thrill of struggling against his weight, knowing escape was futile. And then, the blazing pleasure-pain as he claimed me, taking what he wanted with a forcefulness that should have repulsed me but instead ignited a fire low in my belly.
I squeeze my thighs together, the ache intensifying as memories flood my mind. Part of me can’t wait for tonight’s hunt which I know deep down I can’t resist. Another part wonders if this newfound hunger will ever be sated.
One thing is certain—after sampling the forbidden fruit of submission and dominance, I can never go back to my old, boring life. The woman I was is gone. In her place is someone brutally awakened, something beyond the norm. Beyond the expected. I can’t be black and white. I can’t go back.
I can’t be her.
Rules. Structure. Orderly compliance. Living the life of a robot.
Hollow.
There is a reason I left. And yes, I miss certain people, but I needed to get away. I needed to breathe. To be me. To find out who me really is.
Chapter 3
Braken
The music’s thumping bass fills the room, vibrating against the walls and floor. The occasional moans and cries of pleasure are audible over the steady beat, adding to the tantalizing atmosphere.
And then I see her.
Fiora Delaney. Or at least that is the name she is using now.
There is no mistaking who this woman really is and how I know her.
Nose and several ear piercings, black hair with a bleached white stripe, and wearing all black, she moves with a feline grace across the dimly lit club, her every step radiating an aura of confidence and allure. The shimmering dark fabric of her dress clings to her curves, accentuating the sway of her hips as she approaches the bar. Her striking features, framed by thick, raven locks, draws the gaze of every soul in the room.
I watch, transfixed, as she leans against the polished counter, ordering a drink with a coy smile that could disarm even the most hardened of men. The bartender, clearly smitten, fumbles with the bottles, his cheeks flushed with desire.
Why the fuck is she here alone?
She shouldn’t be alone!
Fiora moves her head side to side, scanning the crowd, eventually locking onto someone I can’t quite make out. She waves the person over, and I eventually see that it’s her friend, Storee—my best friend’s girlfriend.
Okay… so at least she isn’t alone. Thank fucking god. The Vault is no place for a woman like her to attend by herself.
Fiora’s lips curl into a devilish grin as Storee approaches, her movements exuding an air of mischief. The two women embrace, their laughter mingling with the music’s pulsating rhythm. Storee leans in, whispering in Fiora’s ear and eliciting a playful smirk from her friend.
The women truly have a friendship which is a shame… considering what I now know about who Fiora truly is.
Drinks in hand, they make their way through the throng of bodies on the dance floor, hips swaying in sync with the beat. The crowd parts before them, as if the clubbers know the importance of these women and how they are connected to the owners of The Vault.