Crave (Forbidden Series Book #1)

by Dani René

  Tears prick my eyes, and I have to blink them back. If he sees me crying now, I’ll be in a lot more pain than I was before. Silently, he fastens the thin silver collar around my neck, which sparkles with jewels that probably cost more than my life. The leash attached to it gets yanked, and I stumble behind him, slamming into his solid back.

  Stay calm. Please. Don’t hurt me.

  My mind is on a constant loop, begging and pleading, hoping that the pain won’t come. But deep down I know that wherever I’m headed will be far worse than anything he’s put me through.

  “Come on, princess.” He tugs again, and I follow unwillingly behind his confident strides. The long hallway, which is lit by ornate chandeliers and is adorned with artwork hanging on both sides, leads to a foyer. But there’s no exit. It’s as if I’m in the wing of a mansion. The spiral staircase before us leads toward a double-glass door. The house itself has so many windows, I wonder if he’s not afraid of people seeing what he does. The grounds of the house stretch for miles surrounded by a forest that looks inviting, not that I’ve ever been allowed outside.

  The doors glide open as we step into what would normally be a cellar, at least that’s what I would call it, but the area’s been refurbished. Instead of a dank and dreary room, it resembles a five-star restaurant. “I see the star of the show has arrived.” A man—one also hidden by a mask, one that resembles a wolf with a similar silver streak through one eye, like that of my captor’s—stalks up to me and reaches for my face. I can’t stop my instinctive flinch in response.

  My gaze flits between the two men, and I wonder if they’re brothers. They’re both older from what I can tell, with the fine wrinkles around their mouths and thick heads of salt and pepper hair that can’t be hidden by the masks. “You scared of me, pet?” He chuckles with a filthy leer that travels from my collar to my chest, as if he’s trying to see through material of the shift dress I’m wearing. I’ve lived in fear since I arrived here. Not having a moment where I was comfortable, no matter how beautiful the room I was locked in was. But something about the man before me has terror burrowing into my core.

  “She’s pure, beautiful, and trust me when I say, delicious.” The man who’s owned me for the last two years boasts to his friend. If only I could see their faces. But instead, I’m left clueless as to who these evil men are.

  “I’ll have to have a taste. Won’t I, pet?” His hand reaches between my legs and thick fingers probe at my sex. My body shudders in fear, and the hunger in his dark eyes is evident. “Smooth cunt, I like that.” I know he’s not talking to me, but his gaze is on me when he rips the panties I’m wearing away from my hips. His fingers plunge inside me, pumping in and out slowly, even though his touch does nothing and the burning sensation brings tears to my eyes.

  He drags his digits from my core and brings them to his lips. I turn away, but my owner forces my head back, preventing me from looking away. Watching a man old enough to be my father lick my juices from his fingers has bile burning my throat.

  His eyes dart behind me, and he smiles. It’s what I would picture Satan to look like—dark, filthy, and vile. “You’re right. Pure and delicious. I can’t wait to make you bleed on my cock. Would you like that, princess? To feel a man inside this tight little cunt?” He forces his fingers inside me again and pumps a few times. “Soon, I’ll take that thing you hold dear. Your virginity will be mine. I’ll fucking own it. And every time a man drives his hard cock inside you, it will be me you feel.” His vow is filled with salacious intent, which only serves to disgust me further. I can’t stop the retch in my throat.

  Fear skyrockets my heart rate and the tears I had been holding back all this time finally escape and stream silently down my cheeks. “No. Please...” The plea falls from me as it always does, but I know it’s no use. You’d think that after two years of being here I would have learned, but I haven’t.

  I’m still a little girl.

  I miss my family.

  I need my daddy to save me.

  But he won’t. Because deep down, I’ve come to the conclusion that they’ve killed him.

  My body being jostled wakes me, and I roll over to find myself in the back seat of a car. When I try to move, my body aches and I realize my hands are bound behind me and my ankles are tied against the door handle, inhibiting my movement.

  My mind is fuzzy. All I remember is the party. There was a man—no, there were many men. I don’t feel an ache between my legs, but the pain shooting through my limbs and ribs tell me they did other things. So many horrid acts that I don’t want to think about. My throat is dry. My eyes well with tears and they burn, threatening to spill. I’ve promised myself that I’ll be strong. But isn’t there a point when life hands us too much? When you’ve just endured everything you can and it finally fills your cup, overflowing into unwanted tears you’ve hidden away. That’s how I feel.

  “Where…?” The word is a croak at best, and the man in the driver’s seat glances at me in the rear view mirror. I can’t see his face. It’s distorted by a mask.

  They all hide. All the evil lies behind a piece of plastic. Why can’t they grow a pair and show themselves? “I’m Hazard, at least, that’s what they call me. I’m taking you home, little one. There’s a special room waiting for you,” he tells me on a smirk. Those pretty words of going home don’t mean what I pray they do, instead they hold vile promises. His voice is different—not that of the same man who held me in the room. This one seems different somehow, younger perhaps.

  It’s dark, so I can’t make out anything about the car, except that there are red lights on the dashboard. “Why do they want me?” I question again, hoping to make sense of what’s happening to me.

  It’s been too long. I’ve been stolen, kidnapped, and nobody has even looked for me. My father is, or was, a powerful man, surely he’d have found me by now. Unless they’ve really hurt him. Unless my fear that he’s dead is true.

  “Because you’re going to make the boss man a lot of money,” he confides. I recognize it instantly. In a world of pain and punishment, the emotion has me reeling. Guilt. Why would he feel guilty? I don’t understand. “Your trainer is waiting on you. He’s the best. He’ll take you and make sure your pretty little body is ready. You see, sweetheart, some people in this life are out for payment, perhaps not monetary, but physical. The boss man is in charge, and what he wants, he gets, unfortunately. Your innocence is like a drug to them. They crave it, just like your trainer will. We call him the Grim Reaper, but don’t tell him I told you. That will spoil all the fun.” He chuckles at his last few words, but the name has stuck in my mind. The Grim Reaper. More fear engulfs me, and I wonder why Hazard told me things I don’t think he should be telling me. “I think he’s going to be quite enamored with you.” His words are laced with amusement.

  “Fuck you,” I spit at him. My throat burns with the food I was forced to eat last night and my stomach churns with hate. His laugh may sound carefree, but it’s only an act. He’s probably as bad as the man he stole me from. Maybe worse. I’ll find a way out. And if they have more girls, I’ll save them too.

  “Oh, the time for all that will come. I promise you. I only wish I was the one ripping apart those precious holes of yours, but alas, you’re not mine sweetheart. You’re his, and he likes when girls scream. I bet you’ll sound like a siren when you cry and beg for him to stop. Won’t you?” Eyes dart to me in the reflection of the mirror, and I can see a flicker of something in the dim light, perhaps hunger, desire, but I can’t make out what exactly.

  I don’t offer him a response. He doesn’t deserve it. What he does deserve is to die. And I swear on my life I’ll make sure that happens.

  Anger burns like a flame inside me. Fury heats my blood, and I make a vow to myself while on this seat as my body gets thrown around by the road we’re traveling on—I’ll make sure all of them pay. In ugly, torturous ways.

  The car suddenly hits smoother road and then we’re cruising down winding curves
. I know this because my body sways back and forth.

  A distant creak of a gate sounds, and I realize we’ve reached hell. He drives us through, and in the darkness I pray for light. For something, or someone to save me. The car stops and my captor gets out, leaving me lying in silence. My ears prick, and I hear him talk to someone just outside.

  “Dax, boss wants you to put our newest acquisition in her bedroom. She’ll be introduced to her trainer in the morning. The short drive from the east wing was easy enough. She was passed out cold,” he informs the new stranger, and I wonder what he means by “east wing.” Am I still on the same property? If so, there must be a way out. I’ll find it somehow.

  “Sure thing, Hazard,” another man answers. A second later, my body is ripped from the car as the door which has my feet bound to it opens and big strong hands tug me. “Come on, little one, time to get some sleep. Tomorrow you meet your trainer.”

  I’m thrown over a shoulder and I wiggle in an attempt to get free, but it’s no use.

  “You’re a spitfire. I’m sure he’ll have loads of fun with you.” The man, who I assume is Dax, guffaws as he walks through a doorway and heads down a long, dark hallway. All too soon, I hear a click and suddenly I’m dumped onto a bed. When I finally get a good look at Dax, I can’t stop the gasp that falls from my lips.

  He’s probably six feet or more of pure muscle. With his long, light brown hair, that’s buzzed short on the sides, and a thick beard covering his prominent jaw, he looks scary. And that doesn’t even include the sleeves of tattoos that adorn his thick arms, which meet dangerous looking knuckles.

  “Why me? What are they going to do to me?” The questions fall from my lips again while he proceeds to untie me.

  “Don’t ask too many questions and you may get out alive,” he explains in a lowered tone. “You need to trust your maker.” His cryptic words don’t stop the flurry of anxiety that sends my stomach into disarray. “Now, get some sleep. Tomorrow is a big day for you.”

  Even though he is one of the scariest men I’ve ever seen, there is a disarming honesty that shines from his eyes. Deep pools of ice blue settle on me, but it’s not the color that gives him away, it’s the emotion that flits through them when he regards me.

  “Who is my maker?” I ask in confusion. He doesn’t respond, but merely grins, and with that, I’m left alone in the room with my mind whirling at a thousand miles a minute.

  “Brother, I had a taste of your new pet last night,” I tell him as he gets ready. Leaning on the doorjamb of his bedroom, I watch his reaction.

  “And? Is she sweet?” he growls out, and I know I’ve gotten to him. He’s so compassionate and gentle for a Dom, or a Master, I don’t know how he does this.

  “Fucking delectable. She made me so hard, I almost took her right there in her garden. I bet she’s still a virgin from the way she moaned when I sucked on her tongue.” He shudders, but tries to hide it.

  “Great, I’m glad you had your fun. Now it’s my turn.” He pulls on the hoodie he normally hides behind and stalks past me, but before he disappears down the hallway, I get in my last threat.

  “Make her bleed, brother, because if you don’t, I will.”

  He’s probably going to taste her sweet cunt. I was so fucking tempted to take her last night, to fuck her hard and rough. She’d allow me to. I felt her body respond to me. They all do. But she’s not mine. She’s Kael’s toy. The beautiful redhead. A firebird if ever I saw one.

  I know if I took her, it would anger him and I do love to do that.

  I’ve always taunted him. Even now that we’re grown up, I still do it.

  “Sam,” a gruff voice calls me, dragging me from the memory of taunting my brother only two years ago. I turn to regard my father. He’s a formidable man who people bow down to. All he has to do is cast them one of his stern glares.

  “Father.”

  “I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet. Best to mask yourself. She’s new, and I’d like her to fear you rather than get attached. You know how the new girls tend to find you alluring,” he remarks with frustration. It’s true, I’ve had two girls grow rather attached to me. I tend to walk in the same circles as most of their families, those who are still alive, and if they recognize me, it will be the end of this charade. In this game, anonymity is our biggest weapon. If they don’t know us, they can’t find out about what we do.

  I’ve been doing this for too long.

  Shaking my head of that thought, I pull on my mask and follow my father from my office down the hall to his.

  I can’t wait to sink my teeth into her. Everyone calls me the Grim Reaper because I break girls in record time. I take those untainted souls and darken them, bit-by-bit, bringing out the filthy little sluts hiding below their virtuous veneer.

  Murdering the sweet, angelic princesses.

  As we enter the parlor, I see the tiny blonde on her knees. She’s dressed in a pretty white dress with a pattern of small flowers. Her hair hangs down to her shoulder blades, wavy and shimmery, almost gold in hue. I notice her hands fiddling with something on her lap. “Who’s this?” I ask my father as my curiosity piques.

  “She doesn’t have a name anymore. She’s eighteen, although she looks like she’s sixteen, which the clients will love.” His voice is filled with humor, but I’m not listening. I’m intrigued by the little beauty at my feet. She’s pure. Reeking of virginity, like an angel.

  “Eyes up, Angel,” I command, and she obeys without hesitation. Fucking perfect. Her eyes are similar to Paige’s. The color of tourmaline—a deep green gemstone—shimmering as if they’re taunting me. Every thought of the fire-haired beauty from my memories from earlier leaves me when I take in the woman kneeling before me. Her smooth skin is creamy and free of make up. She regards me with wariness, but there’s a fire dancing in her gaze. It’s beautiful. Intoxicating to see a girl in a place like this with so much fight still blazing through her. Although her posture is submissive, I can read the courage she hides. I’m not sure why she’s hiding, but I’ll find out soon enough.

  No pet has enamored me like this. Perhaps it’s her natural beauty. Most of the toys Father brings in here are too made up, like porcelain dolls. This one… She’s different.

  When I reach for her face, she flinches, it’s a slight movement but I pick up on it. Brushing my knuckles along her cheek, I tip my head to the side as electricity shoots through me. A connection—one I’ve never felt with any woman before—jolts me. There’s a pull between us, and when I meet her eyes dead on, I know she feels it too.

  I crouch before her and grab the collar that adorns her slim neck. I tug it forward until her face is inches from mine. Our eyes are locked in a heated exchange, and I see the flames raging behind hers. I’m going to dowse it, one fucking spark at a time. And when I’m done, she’ll be mine.

  Broken and tainted.

  Used and abused.

  She’ll ache to be taken rough and hard.

  I’ll pull the little masochist out of her and when I’m done, I’ll claim her. Her lips pout in the cutest display of stubbornness, and I’m tempted to own her. Everything in my chest craves it. But I’ll have to wait. She can’t be mine yet.

  “Come.” I pull the ring of her collar and she obeys, crawling behind me. “I’ll see you later, Father. I’m going to see how well this one takes instruction.” He nods, stepping aside allowing me to disappear down the hallway with my new toy.

  When we reach my room, I push the door open and step inside.

  Various gray hues greet us, but the most prominent is black.

  Shades of darkness that speak to my soul.

  I don’t like color.

  That’s a lie.

  I love red. Blood red.

  I love the color of crimson when it’s seeping from creamy skin.

  I watch Angel crawl into the room, and when I shut the door with a click, I see her tremble.

  Beautiful.

  “Stand and strip.” With intoxicating
grace, she rises and slowly pushes the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders. As it pools at her feet, I take in the innocent underwear that covers her breasts and pussy. White. “Are you a virgin?” I question with curiosity lacing my tone, and when her eyes meet mine, I notice the trepidation swirling in them.

  “Yes, Sir,” she murmurs, but her eyes flit nervously between mine and the window, which convinces me there’s something she’s not telling me. Even so, the words have my dick throbbing. Aching to drive into her tight, untouched pussy. To feel her body pulse and stretch around me as I break that sweet innocence.

  Her submissiveness is clearly ingrained in her demeanor. Whoever it was that trained her must have resorted to other punishments. Perhaps violence? Tipping my head to the side, I regard her fidgeting. “Tell me, Angel. Have you had a man in your mouth, or that pert ass?”

  She lifts her chin then, and a little bit of that fire I saw earlier comes blazing back. “Yes, I have. Why?” The confidence in her answer angers me. Not because of her feistiness, but because she’s already been violated. Why would I care? I shouldn’t.

  Shaking my head of the errant thoughts, I respond, “You’re well trained. There’s only one explanation that would make sense. A man must have hurt you to make sure you’re obedient. Tell me what happened?”

  Fear flits across her features, but she steels herself and stares at me before answering. “I was kidnapped when I turned sixteen. He taught me to be obedient in ways I’d rather not talk about. He never fucked me in the two years I was there. At first I thought it was because I wasn’t of age, but then one day he confessed it was because he wouldn’t get paid if he’d taken my virginity.”

  The word fucked coming from her is like an aphrodisiac. However, this is news to me. I don’t know any man in this business who would just allow a virgin to stay innocent even if he was getting paid. I’ve known some evil, sadistic bastards. Cocking my head to the side, I regard her before asking, “I want you to tell me what he did to you.” It’s an order, one she can’t refuse. If she’s as well-trained as I know she is, she’ll have to tell me. I grip the ring of her collar and make my way toward the wingback chair near my terrace. I settle myself in the plush material and pull her to kneel before me. “I’m sure he showed you how to pleasure a man?” She nods. “I want you to stroke me while you tell me. Everything.”