I shouldn’t have come back. But I couldn’t stay away.
All day, I tried to shake it off. Tried to tell myself it was a one-time thing. A mistake. A beautiful, filthy mistake. But my body didn’t forget. Not the sting of his hand. Not the way my legs trembled when I came screaming into the mattress, his name never even spoken. Not the way he looked at me like I belonged to him—like I’d always belonged to him. And now I’m here. Standing outside Room 406 again. No text this time. No invitation. I just came because I wanted to be used. And when I raise my hand to knock, the door opens before I can touch it. He’s already waiting. Still dressed in black. Still calm, composed, controlled. His eyes flick down my body. I didn’t wear anything beneath the trench coat. He knows. “Take it off,” he says. I do. He lets the coat fall to the floor behind me, eyes hungry, fingers flexing. “You came back.” “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” He smiles, but it’s the dangerous kind. Slow. Knowing. “You’re mine tonight.” “Yes, sir.” “Say it louder.” “I’m yours tonight.” “No.” He steps closer, towering over me. “You’re mine. Period.” I nod, breath hitching. “I’m yours.” “Good girl.” He walks behind me, and I feel the warmth of his body before his hand slides around my throat. He doesn’t squeeze. Just holds it. “You don’t get to leave early this time,” he murmurs against my ear. “I won’t.” “No safe words. You want to stop, you say red. Until then—” he presses harder, “—you’re mine to use.” My pussy clenches. “Yes, sir.” He spins me around, pushes me to the bed, and doesn’t give me time to think. He binds my wrists. Not with rope. With his tie. Silk. Black. Tight enough to make me feel helpless, but not enough to hurt. “You were so eager last night,” he says, voice calm as he knots it to the headboard. “Tonight, we see how eager you are when you can’t touch.” I writhe beneath him, spread wide and exposed. He stands beside the bed and slowly unbuttons his shirt. My mouth waters. His chest is hard, cut, dusted with just enough hair to make my fingers itch. But I can’t move. Can’t touch. Just lie there like the needy little whore I’ve become in less than twenty-four hours. He sees it on my face. The desperation. The surrender. “You liked being used,” he says. “Now I’ll make you crave it.” He kneels between my legs and lowers his mouth to my inner thigh. Kisses. Bites. “Please,” I beg, hips rising. “Please, I need—” “Need what?” “Your mouth. Your tongue. I need to come.” “You’ll come when I say.” Then he finally licks me. Long, slow, right up the center of my slit. I cry out, hips bucking, but his hands grip my thighs, pinning me down. He eats me like I’m his meal. Like I’m the only thing on the menu. Tongue deep. Then flicking. Then sucking hard on my clit until my vision blurs. I pant. Arch. Scream his name—no, not his name, because I still don’t know it. Just sir. Just the man who makes me forget who I am. “I’m gonna come,” I gasp. “No.” He pulls back. “Not yet.” My head thrashes. I’m shaking, soaked, pulsing. “I said not yet.” Then he moves. One swift thrust, and he’s inside me again. Fucking me rough, deep, perfect. The tie digs into my wrists as I pull against it, lost in the rhythm of his body taking mine. He grinds into me, cock thick and punishing, chest heaving above mine. “Say it.” “I’m yours,” I gasp. He slaps my breast, just enough sting to make me moan. “Louder.” “I’m yours!” He fucks me harder. “You don’t come without permission. You don’t speak unless ordered. You don’t move unless I make you.” “Yes, sir!” “Whose hole is this?” “Yours.” “Whose mouth?” “Yours!” He stops suddenly, still buried deep. I whimper, desperate for friction. “Beg.” “Please,” I whine. “Please use me. I need to come. I need you to fill me. Please, I can’t take it—” He pulls out. I cry out. Then I hear the nightstand drawer open. And something cold presses to my entrance. A toy. A plug to be exact. “Relax,” he orders. “This is mine too.” The plug slides in slowly, and I moan at the stretch. At the fullness. He takes his time, fingers slick and skilled. When it’s seated deep, he smacks my ass. “You’re ready.” I feel him push into me again, this time with the plug inside me too, making everything tighter, fuller, filthier. I scream. He pounds harder. Deeper. “You love being my toy,” he growls. “Yes, sir!” “You love not knowing what I’ll do next.” “Yes!” “You’re going to come now. On my cock. With your ass full and your wrists tied.” I explode. Screaming. Trembling. Clenching around him so hard he curses through gritted teeth and spills inside me. The bed shakes with the force of it. We collapse again, panting, covered in sweat, and I realize my thighs are sticky with more than just his cum. My own. So much of it. He unties my wrists carefully, rubbing them where the silk pressed. I lie there dazed, ruined, utterly satisfied. But he’s not done. He kneels beside the bed, one hand gripping my jaw. “You’re not leaving.” I blink up at him. “I wasn’t going to.” “I don’t just fuck.” My breath catches. “I train.” “What… what does that mean?” His smile is slow. Dangerous. “You want to be used?” I nod. “You want to be owned?” “…Yes.” “Then you come back tomorrow.” His mouth brushes my ear. “And next time… we play with toys.”Chapter 6 The Cage You CraveIt started with silk.Silk around my wrists. Silk over my eyes. Silk between my thighs, slick with need.Dominic Vale didn’t tie me like a man claiming his lover—he wrapped me like a predator dressing a meal.“You still think you’re here by choice, little thing?”His voice was a rasp over my shoulder, the roughness of it scraping me raw.I opened my mouth to answer, but he slipped two fingers between my lips. Not to hush me—to own me. His fingers pressed against my tongue, slow and deep, until I gagged softly.“Shh,” he murmured. “Just take what I give you.”He pulled the blindfold down tighter.And I was in the dark.Literally. Figuratively. And Emotionally.Because lately, I couldn’t tell what I wanted anymore. I hated that I loved the way he touched me. I hated the thrill that raced through my veins every time he looked at me like I was prey—and he was starving.But the moment he started whispering
Chapter 5 His Rules, My UndoingI didn’t know what morning looked like anymore.Not when my days bled into nights, and my body never stopped aching from how he used it.Dominic Vale didn’t fuck like a man—he devoured like a beast.And this morning?He didn’t let me rest.He woke me up with his mouth between my thighs, tongue relentless, eyes locked on mine like he dared me to break eye contact. When I moaned, twisting against the sheets, he only pressed my hips down harder and growled.I came so hard I cried.And when I came down from the high, chest heaving, he didn’t stop.“I said we’re not done, Maya,” he said, voice like silk stretched over razors. “You don’t come once and think it’s over. You come until I say enough.”That was how the day began.Now it was noon, and I stood at the center of his penthouse, naked again, trembling, wet, branded—waiting.He’d given me a list.A handwritten one, delivered after breakfast.
Chapter 4 BrandedI didn’t expect to be branded.Not literally.But that’s exactly what Dominic Vale did.It started with a text the next morning.You will come to the address below at 11 AM sharp.Do not be late. Do not wear anything under your coat.There was a pin. A luxury townhouse downtown. I recognized the neighborhood—it was the kind of place that charged five figures just to breathe inside.My hands shook as I buttoned up a long trench coat over my bare skin. No bra. No panties. Just the ghost of his cum from the night before, dried between my thighs, and the soft ache of a hole that had been used more times than I could count.I hated how wet I got remembering it.I hated how fast I obeyed.But I showed up.Because I was past the point of pretending I wasn’t addicted to the way he used me.When I knocked, the door opened to a woman in black.Tall, striking, leather gloves to her elbows. She didn’t smile.“Com
Chapter 3 Property of D. ValeThe gold collar hadn’t left my throat.Not since last night.He’d left it on—said nothing about removing it, and I didn’t dare ask.Not when I woke up sore, marked with red streaks on my ass, and his cum still drying between my thighs.I’d stayed in that townhouse all night.Not in a bedroom.No—Dominic had me curled up at the foot of his bed. Naked. Collared. Like a pet.There was a soft blanket laid down—rich, velvety, deliberately placed. My designated space.He’d fed me before bed, too. Not dinner. Him.He’d knelt on the bed and made me open my mouth. Fed me his cock. Slow, deep, deliberate strokes until I gagged and he growled, “Good girl,” like I was his favorite thing.When I swallowed every drop, he rubbed my throat in approval and tucked me into my little space with a smirk.Now it was morning.And the collar was still locked.So were the invisible rules I hadn’t even discovered yet.
Chapter 2 Rules of ObedienceI didn’t remember leaving the building.Not really.My legs barely worked, my panties were still nonexistent, and my mind floated somewhere between stunned and soaking wet.All I could think was—He made me come twice with his mouth before he even kissed me.And then he fucked me on his desk like I was a need he’d been holding back for years.I’d never felt anything like it. Never been used so thoroughly and still begged for more.Because make no mistake—he used me.But I’d let him.Hell, I’d asked for it with my silence.Now I was walking the streets of downtown like some dazed, used-up sex doll in heels. The check in my purse was real. $20,000. First installment.Signed: Dominic Vale.I wasn’t sure what I’d agreed to—but my body felt claimed.And my phone buzzed with a message that made it clear the deal was only just beginning.DOMINIC VALE:Tomorrow. 7:00 p.m. Sharp. Wear black. No
PROLOGUE When broke recent grad Maya lands a last-minute job interview with tech tycoon Dominic Vale, she doesn’t expect to leave his office with a contract instead of an offer letter. He doesn’t want an assistant—he wants discretion, obedience, and availability. What begins as a sugar arrangement quickly spirals into something hotter, darker, and far more addictive than Maya ever expected—especially when Dominic insists she wear no panties to meetings and punishes disobedience with brutal pleasure.“Every time you cross a line, Maya, I’ll make you scream for it.”Chapter 1 No Panties, No QuestionsI didn’t even belong in the building.The security guard looked me up and down like I was either lost or delusional. Probably both. I could feel the judgment scraping along my skin as I stood in the marbled lobby of Vale Industries, clutching a wrinkled résumé and trying not to sweat through my secondhand blouse.“Interview?” I offered weakly.“