by Dani René
Sees what’s hidden inside.
Not the darkness, not the light, but the gray in between.
I was the first person to see past his affliction, and that’s what started our twisted journey. We were both broken by the life given to us, and in order to survive, we needed each other.
I spent my life falling in love with the stories my nanny read to me. The fairy tales that spoke of princes and castles. And since I lived in a castle—well, a house so big it could be considered a castle—myself, I always thought I would find my prince.
I lost my mother when I was young. And when I fell into the darkness of my depression, I found solace in the depravity that came with addiction. I didn’t waste away on drugs, and I certainly didn’t drink myself into a coma.
No.
My need came from something far dirtier and unmentionable. A desire that grabbed hold of me and didn’t let go.
Until him.
My life was always filled with light, until my mother was no longer around, and I was left to my own devices. Children shouldn’t be left to fend for themselves, especially children like me—privileged. I admit I’m broken, that I should never have found myself on the website I had become addicted to.
But that same lapse in judgment brought him to me.
Each night, I would wait and watch the screen as it illuminated my old bedroom, and I would watch for him. My heart would kick wildly in my chest when I saw his name light up, and his message appear.
I don’t have anyone else but him.
I’m the possession of someone who ran away from me when I first met him. The memory is still clear of that day, and I recall his disdain for me so clearly. But now I find myself in the dark in a bedroom, which is homely, warm, and cozy. I’ve fought, screamed, and cried, but my owner only ignores me when I act like this. He may have shown me his face, but I’ve yet to see his soul.
For now, I wait. I know he’s there, watching.
I don’t know how long it’s been.
Only that he visits me every day.
I know his name. He was the first person I ever came to love and to crave. And even now, I know he will be the only one who understands my desires.
He makes me feel things.
I shiver again when I think about him. Rolling onto my back, I sigh loudly, and it echoes in the vast bedroom. It’s different from the one I had while I was growing up.
I no longer have teddy bears on my bed. There are no longer pink and pastel blue furnishings and curtains. This bedroom is filled with deep shades of cobalt and charcoal hues that offer more warmth than what I’d envisioned.
Each night, in the dark, my visitor comes to me. He talks to me in that deep, gravelly tone, which only turns the spark inside me into a raging inferno. He tells me he’s ill and that he doesn’t understand why he is broken.
I want to tell him I am too. My heart, my mind, it’s not the same, and there’s nothing I can do about it but tamp it down and ignore it. I want to ask him so many questions that plague me daily, but I don’t. Perhaps the less I know, the better.
The sun streams through the window, informing me of a new day. He told me I’ll be able to go outside soon. And I can’t wait to run through the forest. I’ve sat in the window seat every day since I woke up in this bedroom, and I’ve watched the birds flit about and the flowers bloom as spring nears.
Last night, he came to me and sat for a long while, just talking. I want to see him, to ask him why he’s taken me, brought me to this place that doesn’t seem like a prison, but sort of is. It’s a cabin, hidden amongst tall trees and green grass.
I’m thankful he’s been kind to me, not hurting me in any way. I imagine other girls who’ve been in similar situations, may not have been as lucky as I am.
My body trembles when I hear the lock of the bedroom door clicking, and I realize he’s bringing in the tray with food for me to devour. He feeds me, keeps me hydrated, allows me all those normal comforts; the only thing he doesn’t give me is his truth. But soon, I know he will.
The spicy scent of his cologne still hangs heavily in the room from last night, and I’m filled with want for him to stay here with me. He makes me crave the nearness of him. I watch as he sets the tray on the vanity before he disappears again.
How can I want him when he hides from me?
How can I need him when he won’t let me in?
Chapter One
Logan
One week ago
I click on the profile, reading the name Sleeping Beauty before scanning her bio. It’s short and sweet, just like I imagine her to be. I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t stop myself. I found out how broken I was when I turned seventeen and found myself needing release while I watched my girlfriend at the time asleep beside me. We had been studying late into the night, and while she slept, I found more pleasure than I ever had.
The moment I came all over my hand, I rushed to the bathroom, cleaned up, and left. I never once went back to her house. Fear held me hostage, keeping me from even talking to her, telling her what I did.
I spent my nights searching for reasons why. But nothing could stop it, I was broken. My desires ran deep into my veins. And I couldn’t tell anyone about it. The secret was mine to bear, and I had to do it alone.
For the first time in years after that incident, I met someone else. She was kinky, she would let me tie her up, blindfold her, and for a while, it worked. But happiness doesn’t last forever.
I realized I was never going to be with anyone long-term when I woke my ex-fiancée while I was jerking off over her sleeping form. She looked so beautiful, peaceful and unaware of my perversions. I hid it from her for two long years. But the moment she opened her eyes and felt the hot mess I’d made all over her chest, I knew I needed to leave.
To run so far away, nobody would ever be subject to my sick desires.
I couldn’t explain it away, and telling someone on the first date that you can’t get hard unless she’s asleep isn’t something you want them to know. And that’s why I find myself here, on the dark web, where I can find those who are broken—just like me.
I open her photo, which is blurry at best, but I can make out her bra, a soft-pink color, and the panties she’s wearing match. I open the messenger app and type out my first contact with her.
Logan: Are you looking for a Prince or just another bad boy who can fulfill your fantasies?
I don’t know why I’m doing this, but it’s the safest way to find release. It’s the only way. I glance outside. The moon hangs in the sky, heavy and bright. The cabin I bought is secluded, away from prying eyes, because the moment I’m surrounded by people, I feel my anxiety twisting inside my gut, hammering against my chest. Reminding me that I’m nothing more than a monster.
Her reply dings from the speakers of my computer, and I’m too afraid to open it. This is ridiculous. It’s not like she’s here. And if she were, I doubt she’d stick around long enough to know who I am.
SB: I learned a while ago that princes aren’t as charming as they claim to be. At least a bad boy doesn’t apologize for his behavior.
I chuckle. She’s cute.
Logan: This is true. But what if the bad boy was dangerous as well?
SB: Then, I suppose it would be even more exhilarating. Wouldn’t it?
She’s challenging me to see if I’m said bad, dangerous boy. But what she doesn’t know is I’m a man, nearing my thirties, and she’s only twenty years old. I should shut this down, stop responding, but my fingers have a mind of their own.
Logan: It would be. Danger excites you. Doesn’t it?
SB: It does. I don’t know why. Perhaps I’m broken in some way. Maybe I’m meant to be the bad girl who corrupts the good boy.
I can’t stop smiling. I sit back, watching the screen as if it’s meant to give me answers. Do I tell her who I am? No. If I do, she’ll stop talking to me. I keep my gaze pinned on the screen, and then I see another notification pop up.
SB: So . . .
your profile doesn’t tell me what it is you’re into.
Logan: I know. I . . . I don’t know how to tell people about it. It’s not . . . normal.
I sigh as I push off the bed and make my way into the kitchen. I don’t want to see her response. But I also do. The forum we’re on isn’t exactly normal, and she should expect chat partners to ask for random shit, and mine isn’t as bad as some I’ve come across, but it doesn’t mean it won’t scare her off.
Sleeping Beauty.
How is it a girl would want to be a fairytale character? Brought up on stories of happily ever after isn’t the right way to live. I should know. I tap my phone screen and see a message from my mother. My father would never contact me, but she does.
I know she misses me. She wants me to return home, but I can’t. After the darkness I brought on the family name, my father would sooner disown me than have me back in the house.
My computer dings from the bedroom, but I ignore it for a little while. My mind is on my folks for the moment, and I consider responding to my mother, but after a moment, I turn and head back to the bedroom with a bottle of beer.
I flop on the mattress and tug the laptop toward me. Waiting for me are two messages from the little princess. She’s not even seen what life can do, and she’s on this fucking website, talking to me—a stranger. At least, that’s what she thinks.
What the hell could’ve happened to her to push her into this life?
Onto this website?
SB: Normal is subjective. Perhaps you should just come right out and say it.
SB: But if you’d rather not, I won’t pursue it. I’m into . . . I need . . . I like being watched. Is that wrong? I mean, the fear that courses through my veins spark my arousal, and then I’m lost to it until I find release.
I stare at the screen. I read her words, then reread them. I try to make sense of her. In just that one confession, she’s given me more than I could ever have hoped to give anyone in my own damn life.
She deserves an answer. She should get one, but I can’t bring myself to do it. My fingers hover over the keys as I regard her name. I know it’s not real, but just the thought of her being able to accept my ache, to see her unconscious, to feel her limp body as I curl myself around her and rub my cock against her smooth, porcelain flesh, has me groaning.
SB: I like when a man . . . I enjoy a man to hunger for me. I crave attention, the need to feel his eyes eating me up. I know it’s dangerous, but this is how I find my fix. By roleplaying scenes online, so I don’t do it in person. Is that why you’re here too?
Fuck.
My fingers move without me thinking.
Logan: Yes. Your needs and my desires seem to tie into each other more than I could’ve hoped for. But this is all it will ever be, my beauty.
SB: I didn’t ask for more. Did I?
She’s right. She didn’t, and I’m assuming she’d ever want to see who I am. The moment her gaze landed on my face, she’d know why I’m hidden in the middle of nowhere. Why I’m living in a small town in the corner of the world where nobody will find me. Where nobody can recognize me.
I consider my next response. Do I tell her more? Can I tell her more? Of course, I can. But I’m still afraid. Being shunned for something I have no control over has put fear inside me, and every time I have a glimmer of hope that sparks within me, it’s extinguished before I have time to really and truly feel it.
Logan: Then why don’t we get to know each other? Tell me about your favorite role.
I wait.
Five minutes pass and nothing, yet her green light still shows she’s online. So, I haven’t scared her off just yet. That’s a good thing. But waiting for a response is like being hanged by the fucking balls—painful, excruciating.
SB: I’d like to feel like I’ve lost all control. Like I’m nothing more than a rag doll. Lying on a surface of your choosing. I want to have a video recorder on me, to show me what you’ve done to me after. I want to feel the ache of you inside me when I wake up. I want you to hold me down, keep me there until you’ve had your fill of me. And when you’re done, I want to wake up with the scent of you on my skin.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I have no response to that. My cock is throbbing so hard I can’t think straight. All I can envision is her, lying on that pretty pink bed while I enjoy her body just like she wants. While she sleeps, I can devour every inch of her and make her mine.
And in the morning, when I’m gone, she’ll awake to nothing but the phantom feeling of me inside her. Beside her. Touching and stroking her smooth skin.
I shake my head and tap out my last message before shutting the lid of my laptop. I can’t do this. Can I? No. It’s wrong. The more I fall down this rabbit hole, the more I’ll get lost in the fantasy. And when I do that, it becomes more than just some fun chat online—it becomes an obsession.
With my contacts, I can find anyone, and she won’t understand how I can track her down, steal her from her life, and make her mine. Can a more perfect woman exist? She’s taunting the beast that lives within me. I’ve hidden him away for so long that just reading her words, it feels as if he’s about to breakthrough, and I’ll be dragged into the depths again.
No.
She can’t be my focus.
Because if she becomes my obsession, it will only put her in danger.
I can’t do that again.
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Acknowledgments
The conclusion was emotional. Writing both books was such an adventure, I didn’t want to leave Crimson Falls. But, for now, we will leave Lycan and his Little Red to their HEA. If you’re already wanting more from this world, I promise, you won’t have to wait too long, because I’ve already planned the next book, but who it’s about is a surprise ;)
Thank you to my editor, Brian, from Illuminate Author Services for fitting me in last minute. Your insight and suggestions made the story shine, and I’m so happy to have the opportunity to work with you.
To the team at Greys Promo, you ladies ROCK! Thank you so much for everything you did to keep me in line and on deadline.
To my ADULT, Caroline for putting up with my bullshit. And for ensuring I’m on time for everything I would be late to if it weren’t for you.
To my BEAUTY, Carolina, for helping me with the group, and for being so sweet when I forget everything I’m meant to do.
The Street Team, you ladies work your ass off to get my name out there, thank you. From the bottom of my little black heart, THANK YOU!
My Deviants!! I love my group, and you ladies make it so amazing to pop in every day when I need an escape from the world. Thank you!!
To my fellow authors who are there with advice, support, and just a general pick me up. Thank you. It means more to me than you know. Thank you for sharing my work with your readers, and giving me a friendship that is second to none.
To the bloggers, you ladies read, read, read, support, post, review, and you do it with a smile. Thank you!! We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, so keep what you’re doing, we appreciate you! #AllBlogsMatter!
Lastly, to the readers, thank YOU! It’s because of you I’m able to put out book after book. Giving you what you ask for, and hopefully making you excited about the next book. Thank you for your reviews, keeping them SPOILER FREE ;) But most of all, thank you for buying our books. For your support, love, and encouragement.
Mad love, D x
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Also by Dani René<
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Stand Alones
Choosing the Hart
Love Beyond Words
Cuffed
Fragile Innocence
Perfectly Flawed
Black Light: Obsessed
Among Ash and Ember
Cursed in Love (collaboration with Cora Kenborn)
Beautifully Brutal (Soldati di Sangue)
How the Mind Breaks
The Devil’s Plaything
While She Sleeps (Dirty Heroes Collection)
It’s Never Easy (Lady Boss Press)
Only One Night (Lady Boss Press)
Deviant (Black Mountain Academy)
Traction (Driven World)
Brazen Bachelor (Cocky Hero World)
Delicate Surrender
Taboo Novellas
Sunshine and the Stalker (collaboration with K Webster)
His Temptation
Austin’s Christmas Shortcake
Crime and Punishment (Newsletter Exclusive)
Tempting Grayson
Crimson Falls Duet
Bitter Vows (Book #1)
Bitter Truths (Book #2)
Gilded Sovereign Series
Cruel War (Book #1)
Volatile Love (Book #2)
Sins of Seven Series
Kneel (Book #1)
Obey (Book #2)
Indulge (Book #3)
Ruthless (Book #4)
Bound (Book #5)
Envy (Book #6)
Vice (Book #7)
The Taken Series