Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I went through all the emotions as I sat there asking why this happened. I was so angry at my father. He never gave my brother a chance to be his own person. He groomed him from the day he began walking, creating Exquisite into his future. Regret hit me so hard realizing I never asked James what he would have become if not for the family business. Would he have gone into business still? Become a doctor? Traveled with me? In my selfishness to leave home and find my own way, I never once thought about what he was going through. But never in our life together did he lead me to believe he wasn’t happy with the way his life turned out. He idolized my father. He wanted to be on top. With everything. The woman, the money, the drinking. He would have followed my father anywhere. And in the end, he did. To his own grave.
I think about the first couple years after I gave up my life to run Exquisite. The long nights, women, and drinking. How easily I fell right into the shoes of them both. My passion for art and travel became a distant memory as I ran the club. And with running it, came the change in my preferences. The sex, the promiscuity—I knew nothing walking through those doors. But Fredrick taught me. He threw women at me who taught me exactly what was offered inside those private rooms. In the first year alone, I had my fair share of sex, threesomes, and bondage experiments to last a lifetime. But with everything in my life, nothing compared to the fulfillment of art. All the random women at the drop of a hat got old. The temptations got stale. I was no longer falling down the rabbit hole. I was drowning in it. A life I, at one point, always despised.
I was in my third year running Exquisite when I had my first breakdown. I wanted out. I couldn’t do it anymore. I threatened to burn the place down and be done. Cursed my father for trapping me into this life. Fredrick stepped in and saved me from lighting that match. Convinced me to stick to the business side of it and allow him to run the other half. The half I despised. The shit I saw day in and day out…I felt like a monster, to allow people to treat one another with such distaste. I refused to be like the people who entered this club with the intent to harm another just to get off. The woman who begged to be violated. The married couples who pleaded to watch their spouse fuck another. I refused to be that type of man.
But then the years passed, and I grew into the exact person I never wanted to be.
A sadistic motherfucker.
I fell into line with my role. I’ve taken whips, chains, and my hand to a woman’s skin, women, until their flesh was raw enough to bleed. I fucked in ways still not written in the handbooks. I’ve dominated men, women, and taken control of this club in ways I wonder if my father would have been able to.
I slowly became the monster my father was.
But worse.
And now, I’m finally going to set myself free.
My mind goes to Jensen. My savior. My sweet, foul-mouthed little pet who gave me the light I needed to torch this place. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I laugh at how things transpired between us. She makes me feel like a better man. The nineteen-year-old boy who wanted to make a difference in the world.
I’m still a bastard, though. Taking my hand to her sweet ass is something I won’t stop doing. It will always be the fucked-up sickness my father embedded in me. I would hate myself even more for all the things I’ve done to her. The ropes, the toys, the teasing. But that’s just the thing. My little pet is loving it. Who would have thought my innocent girl wants to be spanked and controlled? Too bad she’s the one controlling me.
She opens places inside me I’ve closed off. A coldness in me she’s suddenly given warmth to. She was never supposed to be anything important to me. But now? She’s becoming everything. I shake my head, still in disbelief. I want to convince myself this is all just still a game. I took what I wanted from her. Her innocence. But what she took from me weighs heavier. My heart.
“God.” I laugh at myself. I sound like a fucking pussy. Speaking of pussy, I pick up my phone to send her a text. I need her to get back here. I need to taste her until she’s spasming on my tongue. Be inside her. Hear her damn snorting laugh.