CRAVE: Temptations Collection

PROLOGUE All I wanted was a weekend away. No exes. No stress. Just me, a vibrator, and the quiet luxury of the Hotel Aurelia.Then I got the text.Room 406. Strip. Kneel. Don’t speak unless told.It wasn’t meant for me. But I went anyway.And when I opened the door, he didn’t ask questions. He just gave orders.Rough hands. Quiet voice. And a mouth that ruined me for every man who ever tried.He didn’t give me his name. Didn’t ask for mine.And when I told him I wasn’t who he was expecting—he smiled.And said, “You are now.”What started as a mistake becomes a weekend of obedience, bruises, and bliss.But this stranger wants more than my body. He wants my control.And I… want to give it to him.Chapter 1 The Wrong TextThere’s something about a hotel bed that always makes me want to misbehave.Maybe it’s the way the sheets are tucked too tight, how the pillows smell like bleach and strangers. Maybe it’s the freedom of knowing I’m anonymous in a luxury building full of men in suits w

I told myself I wouldn’t go.I swore I’d ignore his command. That I didn’t belong to him. That it was just sex.But here I am again.Room 406.Only this time, I don’t even hesitate. I knock once.The door opens instantly, like he knew the exact second I’d show up.He doesn’t greet me.He just smiles—smirks, really—like a man who already owns the answer to a question I haven’t dared to ask.“You’re ten minutes early.”“I couldn’t wait.”His eyes drag down my body. I’m in a dress this time—tight, short, braless. Panties? Not a chance.He steps aside without a word.I walk in. And freeze.There’s a box on the bed, black velvet. Like a gift.“For me?” I ask.He nods once.“Open it.”My heart beats faster as I lift the lid.Inside is a black leather collar. Smooth. Sleek. Unapologetically filthy. And a small silver tag that reads: Mine.I stare at it then glance at him.“Put it on,” he says, already unbuttoning his shirt.My fingers tremble slightly as I fasten the collar around my neck.H

I cum before I even touch the door.One breath of the hallway outside Room 406, and my thighs clench. The memory of the crop, his voice, the humiliation, the begging—it floods me. I’m soaked and shaking.And I haven’t even knocked.I don’t have to. He already told me the rules.When he wants me, the door will be open.It is.Just slightly ajar. Just enough for me to slip in, naked beneath a trench coat, my collar snug around my throat like a key.I step inside.Room 406 is dim, lit only by the flickering of a single candle in the corner. A note waits on the bed, written in thick black ink.Kneel. Wait. Don’t speak.I obey.My knees find the floor, my hands rest on my thighs and my head bows.I feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like a raw nerve dressed in nothing but anticipation and need.Time passes. I don’t know how long.When the door closes softly behind me, my breath catches.He’s here.The heat in the room changes. I feel it the way you feel lightning before it strikes.“I didn’t say yo

Chapter 2 The Dare I found my panties on the deck the next morning, twisted in a heap like evidence of a crime. They were still damp. And not from the dew. I quickly stuffed them into the pocket of my robe, heartbeat thunderous, as if someone might’ve seen me out there on the railing, legs spread, fingers buried inside myself while Logan sat five feet away—watching like a predator waiting to pounce. Except he didn’t pounce. He left me there, panting and trembling with nothing but the echo of his voice still ringing in my ears: “Show me how you make yourself come when you’re thinking of me.” I didn’t see him at breakfast. Jason was already on the deck when I came down, flipping through his phone and grumbling about emails from work. Something about one of his junior partners fucking up a deal and needing him to fly back midweek. “I’m sorry,” he said around a mouthful of toast. “I know this weekend was supposed to be for us.” “It’s fine.” “You sure?” I nodded

Chapter 4 Afterglow and GuiltI stared at the bathroom mirror, fingers trembling as I wiped away the smudged mascara under my eyes.Logan’s come was still leaking down my thigh.I’d washed everything else—my face, my hands, my mouth—but I couldn’t bring myself to clean that up yet. Like keeping it there gave me proof that it happened. That he’d actually been inside me. That I’d let him.That I wanted him to do it again.The guilt didn’t hit right away. Not until I heard Jason’s keys jingling downstairs.My heart sank.I was already in my robe, hair still damp from the shower, sitting on the edge of the bed when he came into the room.“Hey, baby,” Jason said, tossing his jacket on the chair. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”I smiled. Forced. Tight. “I just took a hot bath.”“Without me?” He winked, but didn’t push. He was too distracted scrolling through his phone.I watched him for a long second—his profile, the curve of his neck, the way he absently scratched his stomach.He w