Chapter 43

MADDISON

He leads me by my hair from the elevator, down the hallway, and to the apartment at the end. His grip is firm and unyielding. I don’t utter a word, obediently following him into the apartment.

Once inside, he slams the door as forcefully as the soft close allows, only then releasing me. We stand there, locked in a silent stare. I avoid his eyes, knowing full well what I’ve done.

I knew the moment I sat on Asher’s lap. I knew, yet I continued because I could. That’s my problem.

That’s my downfall. I act because I can.

“Kitten, I’m very disappointed in you,” Jonathon says, his voice as deep and dark as his eyes.

He stands a little taller in his boots, his body towering over me. He’s confident, knowing where I’ve been this morning.

I remain silent, refusing to admit defeat or tell him the truth. That would make things easier.

But I never make things easier for myself. I guess I’ve always been like this, constantly causing myself strife and hardship.

“Cat got your tongue, kitten? Are you refusing to admit that I can smell that boy all over you…”

I stand my ground, defiantly staring at his chin. So what if he can smell Asher on me?

It’s not like I don’t come home every night with the scent of another man on me, around me…inside me. But those men don’t bother him because they earn me my wage and him his.

Those men are forced upon me at work, and Jonathon is nothing but loyal to Sanctum. He would sacrifice his life, or mine, to keep the money flowing.

To keep the clients satisfied.

“Oh, kitten,” he hums, the sound vibrating in the back of his throat in a way that sends a rush of blood to parts of my body.

Parts that are uselessly trying to relive this morning’s experience. I’ve never been with Jonathon, but I don’t expect his love to be all rainbows and butterflies.

He’s a hard man, a dark and evil man. The type of man I’m drawn to—the type that brings me nothing but pain and disappointment.

And the sad part is, I know he’s no good for me. He can’t give me the happiness I crave.

It’s disappointing because he’s everything I want in a man, physically. But he’s just a means to an end.

I’m using him to protect myself from Mr. Fennick. If Jonathon hadn’t been there the day I was delivered to Sanctum, I would have ended up like the other girls.

I’d probably be high on coke, heroin, and meth. I’d be used by a man every night and not remember a thing.

I would have no control, no memory, no self-preservation. Jonathon saved me from becoming another call girl for Sanctum.

In all honesty, I don’t need to service the clients. I do it because I can.

I do it for the girls, to help them, to save them. Why create another broken woman when this one’s already here?

Jonathon moves into my space, my back against the door, my chest flush with his. He leans down, his lips puckered.

Despite knowing his intentions, I close my eyes and pucker my own lips, inviting him to kiss me because I can. And he does.

His rough, manly lips crush mine in a way I’ve never experienced before. He owns me in that moment, tying my very essence to his soul forever.

And he knows it, the cocky bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he kisses me in that rough, manly way.

His hand around my throat, his teeth grazing my lips. His eyes are dark and onyx, peering into the depths of my soul.

Our gaze is unbreakable because he owns me, and I acknowledge that I’ll submit to his every whim. And even though I say I won’t, I know I’ll enjoy it.

“Tonight’s the night, kitten, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

I nod, an unusual excitement coursing through my veins, making my heart race and my fingers tingle with anticipation.

Perhaps it’s the mystery of it all, or maybe it’s the anticipation of him finally claiming me after all our playful exchanges about when it would happen.

But the idea both thrills and terrifies me in equal measure.

“How do you want it, sweetheart?”

“Should I take you right here against the door for our first time? Or maybe I should warm your ass over the couch before I drive into you from behind… What do you think?”

“Or, just maybe, I should use those cuffs I brought to tie your hands while I take you without asking. Would you like that, kitten?”

“Tied up and helpless while I have my way with you?” He chuckles. His laughter is so deep, so masculine, that it nearly turns my legs to jelly.

All of his suggestions sound like a one-way ticket to pleasure town, but I’m not naive, and I’m certainly not a fool. This encounter—it won’t be about my pleasure.

I can tell by the way he’s taunting me with his voice. Or by the way his body language radiates pure anger.

And most definitely by the words he’s using. Daddy.

The man who first held me, the man who shares half my DNA. Daddy.

The word that affects me the most. The very word that leaves me gasping for breath as memories and excitement surge within me.

My mind and body are at odds. They’ve been in conflict for many, many years.

I crave what I shouldn’t, and because I can, I indulge. And that’s why I’m so messed up.

“I’ll let you take me however you want. I’ll even beg or scream bloody murder if that’s what you want,” I say in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like my own, but it comes from my lips nonetheless. But even as the words escape me, fear courses through my veins, and I’m ready to scratch his damn eyes out the moment he touches me inappropriately.

Tonight is the night. The night Jonathon gets what he’s always desired, but I’m not his anymore.

I understand that now.