Prologue
“In her heart and soul, she set fire to all things that held her back and from the ashes she stepped into who she always was.”
—Atticus
“Run, my little innocent fawn. Run. I’ll give you a ten-minute head start. But remember what happens if I catch you.”
She peered up at me with her doe eyes, her lips still swollen from sucking my cock earlier in the day. Goddamn, my balls were tight.
“I’ll count it down for you. Three. Two. One.”
Squealing, she took off running through the woods, my cock throbbing from the sight of her long hair and naked, voluptuous body. There was little more I enjoyed in life than the hunt, especially when the end result was providing harsh discipline and a savage fucking.
Which I intended on doing today.
I waited for a few minutes, preparing a switch from one of the smaller trees. By the time the green bark was showing, I’d run out of patience.
So I took off running, becoming an animal, a predator in the wild just like I’d trained for years to become.
As I jumped over fallen limbs, avoiding the dense thickets of blackberry bushes, I howled like a big bad wolf.
“You can run and you can hide, but I will find you.”
I could feel the electricity crackling from her body, could almost hear her thudding heart. She was as excited as she was terrified. She knew what I was capable of.
There was no hesitation or pretending this was all fun and games. To me, it was a necessary evil to keep the bad man satisfied. If not, people died, blood spilled in gallons instead of pints.
As I sprinted forward, I realized I suddenly couldn’t detect which direction she’d gone. This was new. I stood to my full height, turning in a full circle as I took several deep inhales. Between her desire and her luscious perfume, she wasn’t capable of escaping.
An evil grin popped on my face as I honed in on her whereabouts. I sprinted forward once again, pushing myself into stealth mode. I could almost taste her sweet pussy on my lips.
The single crack drew my attention to the other side of the forest. I’ll be damned. The little innocent minx had doubled back. As if she could get away from me. My desires were unbridled, becoming as unhinged as they were sadistic. I took a few seconds to scan the area, forced to adjust my cock when I caught sight of her long hair blowing in the breeze.
After issuing another howl, I lunged forward. As soon as she realized just how close I was, she bellowed in anticipation. Dear God, the scent of her raging hunger was going to drive the twilight creatures wild, as it already had myself.
She darted in and behind several of the larger trees, as if she could possibly get away. From me of all people.
I laughed maniacally, the sound filtering into the air just seconds before I pitched myself to the right.
Even the encroaching shadows couldn’t hide the shock on her face, the fear lingering in her eyes.
“My beautiful prey,” I said as I wrapped my hand around her arm, yanking her against my overheated body. “Such a very bad girl to think you could get away from me.”
She noticed what was in my hand, her eyes opening even wider as a tiny, strangled moan rose up from the depths of her being.
I cupped her face with my other hand, clamping down with a brutal hold. As soon as I lowered my head, she licked her lips.
“You should know by now you’ll never be allowed out of my sight.” I took my time to brush my lips across hers, shifting to her jaw then to her neck. As I bit down on her tender flesh, she shuddered in my hold. The gesture was nothing more than a reminder she was mine to control.
To train.
To taste.
To discipline.
And to fuck at will.
When I shoved her face forward against the very tree that had kept her hidden from me, the wind was ripped from her lungs. I twirled the green wood before bringing it down across her backside several times in a row.
Her squeals turned into moans of pain, which attracted the beast inside of me. My hunger knew no bounds and while there was little I enjoyed more than reminding her I was in absolute control of her destiny, I had other more prominent needs.
The whooshing sound was beautiful music, the red marks already forming on her rounded buttocks delightful. Sadly, they’d fade much like the late afternoon light was doing. But not before I took everything that belonged to me.
I crisscrossed several stripes on her upper thighs, marveling how her body bucked and her pussy glistened as she tried to be the good girl I’d taught her to be.
My cock was aching to the same level of pain I knew she was experiencing. After providing her with six additional strikes, I tossed the switch aside, immediately freeing my cock.
When I drove the entire length into her wetness, she let out an electrifying scream.
Different from the cries of men enduring torture, her moans of passion brought additional salacious desires.
With my cock fully seated inside, I crushed the full weight of my body against hers, yanking one arm over her head then the other. As I intertwined our fingers, I nuzzled my face into her warm cheek, wet from perspiring. “You should know better than to think you could get away from me.”
I pulled out, slamming into her again and again, until the rhythm was perfection. This wasn’t about romance or elongating the moment. The brutal action was about filling her with my seed, claiming her in the wild.
And within seconds, I wasn’t interested in holding on any longer, erupting deep inside of her, as she came around my cock. I threw back my head, roaring as if I was nothing more than a predatory animal.
The truth had never failed me. That’s exactly what I’d become.
[divider]Chapter One
Easton
A wise man had once said that men were most vulnerable when they were cocky. They made mistakes. They acted as if their shit didn’t stink.
I was here to tell the world who I considered the vilest of human beings.
That was saying a lot given I wasn’t a decent man by anyone’s standards.
Maybe that’s why I’d become a crusader of innocent victims, something most people would call laughable. Perhaps it was my attempt at salvation.
I knew better of course. Monsters like me went straight to hell. There was no such thing as a ‘get out of jail free’ card.
As I took a gulp of my drink, the rage I’d felt earlier was increasing, which didn’t bode well for the person responsible for boosting my fury.
He and his buddies were laughing, encouraging and applauding the alpha pig’s indecent actions. Fuck them all. If I had enough time, they’d all face punishment. However, I was a prudent man, careful in my actions. That’s the reason I’d remained under the radar. But tonight? I was hungry to spill blood.
The useless piece of human flesh who was continually taunting a sweet cocktail waitress was a cockroach needing to be crushed. He was also an arrogant son of a bitch, laughing with his three buddies while they shot their second game of pool, sucking down enough cheap whiskey I was surprised they could function.
Their loud voices were enough to annoy the crowd, including a dozen rugged men who often came to the local watering hole to fight off demons or empower them after a hard day’s work.
I watched the young men from the shadows from where I sat at the end of the aging wooden bar. Instead of indulging in cheap rotgut shit, I was enjoying my favorite Kentucky whiskey, the special edition ordered just for me since I was a very good customer. In fact, Roxie’s was one of two bars I frequented on a somewhat regular basis. This one was located in an area of Chicago far removed from my estate or the opulent college where I worked.
The other was a stone’s throw away from the illustrious school. Frequenting it with a buddy of mine allowed me to appear normal.
If there was such a thing in my world.
However, Roxie’s allowed me privacy, moments of anonymity where I could feed the darkness lurking in my soul. Usually, I had two drinks and left, but tonight was entirely different, my violent needs requiring some attention. And I’d found the perfect opportunity and subject.
The stupid fucking asshole who couldn’t keep his hands off the waitress.
By now, she was in a fit of tears, doing her best to remain strong.
I was angry, furious inside. Any man who assaulted a woman should be castrated. Maybe that’s what I’d enjoy tonight. I hadn’t allowed myself to engage in such dangerous activities in months, doing what I could to maintain and nurture my upper echelon aspect of the wealthy Chicago society.
I pulled the glass to my lips, darting my eyes toward the activity on the other side of the bar. I didn’t want to draw any attention to my increasing anger, or that I was paying any attention to the jokers’ activities, yet I had to admit tonight it was difficult to ignore. After a quick reminder that I was someone of importance, my family considered notorious as well as powerful, I polished off my third drink.
This was my escape, my way of feeding the ugly beast inside.
By the third liquid libation, I was usually a cranky son of a bitch. This time, I couldn’t take my eyes off the fuckhead as he laughed and joked about what he could and would do with the pretty yet innocent girl.
“I’m going to rip off those clothes of yours, fucking you like the tramp you are.”
His voice carried and the weak shitheads inside the bar were doing nothing to protect the innocent victim. No woman deserved to be called a tramp. Ever.
It burned me to the point I was seeing blood.
I hadn’t realized how much so until I heard a crack, realizing I’d broken the dense crystal glass in my hand.
“Oh, my God. Are you okay?” the equally as pretty bartender asked. She’d had her hands full as well, the beads of sweat rolling down both sides of her face a clear indication of just how much stress she was under.
I shifted my attention toward her, trying to offer a nonchalant smile. “I’m fine. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
“I guess not. Jesus. Let me grab you a towel. I can’t have you suing the place, or my boss will be pissed.”
The worthless boss who rarely slithered out of his office.
As I stared down at my hand, I took a series of ragged breaths. There was no pain. I was immune to any level of agony given everything I’d been through in my youth. Scars covered a portion of my body, a reminder of the brutality I was spawned from. Maybe that’s why I had a taste for blood.
I returned my attention to the jerk. I’d memorized everything about him, including his gestures and nervous tics. He looked familiar. Usually those with the worst behavior had influential parents. It was like that alone gave them permission for their bad behavior. The fucker had a date with the Angel of Death.
I thoroughly enjoyed being judge and jury.
And executioner.
I smirked as I thought about the ridiculous moniker given to the man responsible for a half dozen murders in and around Chicago over the last two years. Me. The women he’d saved had called him an angel for protecting them while killing those abusing them. The stupid reporters had taken it from there.
“Here you go. I do have a first aid kit if you think you need it.” She tried to take my hand to doctor it, but I fisted my fingers, enjoying the hint of pain. The feelings kept me very much alive, electrified in the only way that would ease the demons.
“Don’t worry. I’ve experienced much worse. Thank you for the towel.”
“Would you like another drink? On the house.”
“Not necessary. Just some water.”
The last thing I wanted was to be remotely intoxicated when I performed my act. I was precise in my methods, although tonight was about making an example instead of creating beautiful art as I usually did.
I’d wait until the perfect opportune time. After all, I was a very patient man. That had been beaten into me early on.
Chuckling, I grabbed a peanut, popping it open and tossing it into my mouth. Life was good.
Even if I was restless.
[divider]
My patience paid off, although it took almost two additional hours.
Now, after one in the morning, as the last customers walked out, I paid my tab as well, leaving a hefty tip.
“Come on, baby. You know you want it.” the guy asked the waitress for the third time, fondling his junk before shoving her against the back wall while she was trying to clean off a table.
“Get off me,” she hissed, finally showing some chutzpa. Sadly, she had no idea what the punk was likely capable of.
When he tried to kiss her, she hauled off and knocked him halfway across the room and into one of the pool tables.
“You bitch!”
“Just get out,” she exclaimed to her credit.
“Fine, you little slut. I will be back. Watch your back.”
As the guy finally stormed out of the bar, I took my time following him, remaining in the shadows. At least the two employees left in the bar hadn’t paid any attention to the fact that I’d slipped out right after the jerk.
I preferred having a secure location where I could take my time with the abuser, helping educate him on the reasons why preying on young women to get his jollies wasn’t in his best interest.
But often, desperate times called for desperate measures, something my father used to say. I almost laughed realizing I’d allowed myself to utilize anything my savage, violent father had ever said.
Even though one of the last things he’d said before succumbing to the evil demons who’d waited in the shadows for the sick fuck to take his last breath was something that had haunted my brothers and me for almost two decades.
“Like father, like sons. I’m proud of what all three of you have become.” Then he’d laughed moments before he’d been cut to ribbons like the bastardized monster he truly was. I could no longer remember who’d make the first strike. It no longer mattered given the length of time that had gone by.
Proud?
It had taken us hunting him down like he’d done to dozens of people for him to tell us he was proud. If the fucker wasn’t already being broiled in the flames of hell, I’d enjoy slaughtering him all over again.
I shook off the memories, concentrating on the moment.
“Ah, fuck,” the kid said when he realized one of his buddies had taken his car keys, which was a good thing. Drinking and driving was another horrible offense. I loathed anything to do with overindulgence.
After searching his pockets several more times, he grumbled and cursed, finally taking off on foot.
I followed closely behind, getting a little closer every few blocks. He’d headed home via a dangerous part of town, which fit into my method of eliminating a problem. No one would suspect anything, but the kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I was only a few feet behind him, still in the shadows, when he obviously had a sense he was being followed. He stopped short, slowly shifting his head over his shoulder. Of course he saw nothing yet he picked up his pace significantly.
There was something so indulgent about tormenting the assholes, pushing them to the point of spiraling out of control. Tonight was no exception. After a little while, I softly whistled a slightly ominous tune, which in turn prompted him to stop walking altogether. This time he turned around, scanning the darkness as if I’d consider allowing him to see me until I was ready to strike.
When I dared to run my pinky ring across a chain-link fence, he didn’t bother looking back, instead taking off running. I’d allow him the belief he’d gotten away, finally slowing to an exhausted walk before making a wrong turn.
At least for him.
The few abandoned buildings were the perfect backdrop of a horror movie.
Or a slaughter.
I shook my head as I pulled out my favorite hunting knife. It had been one of the only birthday gifts my father had bothered to give to me, telling me to use it wisely. Oh, I’d learned to alright.
Chuckling, I flicked the blade open, ensuring no unsuspected bystanders were walking the ugly streets this late at night.
With the quietness of the predator I’d been trained to become, I advanced, wrapping one arm around the jerk’s throat and yanking him further into the ominous shadows.
“No. Please,” he managed before I nearly crushed his windpipe while he tried to struggle. I was too big and too muscular, no one able to best me.
“Please what? Spare your worthless life?”
“I… have… money,” he rasped out.
“Money? I don’t want money. I want your soul burning in hell.”
“You’re going to… kill me.” He was already whimpering, still fighting even as I continued squeezing his life out of him.
“I’m afraid so, fuckhead. Didn’t your mama ever teach you to treat women like they were golden angels? Tsk. Tsk. What a shame.”
I allowed him to see the jagged edges of the blade in the slight illumination from the single dirty streetlight before I laughed softly. I preferred seeing the fear of God slide into their eyes, but I had papers to grade, a final lecture to prepare. However, summer was almost here, my favorite time to go hunting.
It was definitely the right time for a change in careers, leaving my academia world far behind me.
Exhaling, I felt a sense of peace as I sliced the sharp blade from ear to ear, the remaining anger allowing the weapon to go in deep as I twisted it. He gurgled only briefly before floating away into the dark abyss, waiting for the devil’s creatures to crawl out of the dirt to take him to where he belonged.
As I tossed the body, lowering the blade and sliding it back into my jacket pocket, a smile crossed my face. My personal demon had been appeased.
For now.
But he was very hungry…
[divider]Chapter Two
Sara
“Remember darkness is in the heart of every one of us.” His voice was deep and sensual, booming in the vast lecture hall, the husky baritone evoking far too many filthy images in my mind.
“Goddamn, I’m wet,” Taylor whispered from beside me.
I glanced in her direction, noticing the warm flush on her face. There wasn’t a single female student who hadn’t experienced sinful fantasies about the man. Myself included. But he was the university’s resident bad boy, or so I liked to think. As arrogant as he was self-assured, he rarely gave anyone the time of day, nor did he participate in school activities. The mystery was as sinfully hot as the man himself. To him, all of us little people didn’t exist. I doubted he even knew who I was.
As the professor scanned the crowd of mesmerized students, boys included, I held my breath. It was impossible to take my eyes off him, basking in his glorious ruggedness while he lectured.
“Jesus Christ,” Josie said from my other side as she leaned forward in her chair. “That man is hot.”
“Fuckable. Every girl’s fuckable fantasy,” Taylor said through clenched teeth.
“Untouchable,” I whispered as a reminder. At least that’s the way I thought of him, the teacher-student relationship considered forbidden in some circles. Especially the likes of a university catering to those students who were considered the cream of the crop, the next generation of powerful politicians and corporate moguls.
The man screamed wealth.
And arrogance.
And power.
And most important of all—danger. It oozed from every sensual pore, and from the soulless look of his eyes. With his fifty-thousand-dollar watch and the Italian sports car I’d seen him around town in a couple of times, he exuded the kind of opulence meant for royalty.
But he was no Prince Charming.
“Don’t look now. I think she’s drooling,” Taylor mused, elbowing me with a gleam in her eyes.
“Maybe we should set her up on a blind date with the man,” Josie said.
“You say a word to that man, and I’ll toss you off a cliff. I mean it.” I might have said the words just a little too loudly, half the class and the sexy professor glancing in our direction. I slunk down in my seat, trying to remain as tiny as possible. I didn’t like attention being drawn to me under any circumstances.
I glanced from one of my friends to the other, trying to avoid getting sucked into their wicked dreams. Although I couldn’t deny I’d enjoyed discussing the man’s finer qualities over a glass or two of thick red wine.
After Professor Saint took a deep breath, he walked to the other side of the desk where he had his things. “Finals day after tomorrow, ladies and gentlemen. Be prepared to stretch your boundaries further than I’ve had you do. You will be writing a short story and it better be worth my read.” He fisted his hand, slamming it on the surface, his personal indication the class was concluded.
The one hundred and fifty or so students didn’t waste any time jerking to their feet. With only graduations and summer festivities on their minds, the last final exams for most were mere icing on the cake. Everyone already knew where they stood in the hierarchy of the system. Most, especially given the majority of students were from wealthy and highly influential families, had cushy jobs lined up.
Not this midwestern girl with a desire to be famous.
If I wasn’t careful, soon I’d be homeless. I gritted my teeth from the thought.
“Shit,” Josie huffed. “I thought now that we are graduating, I was finished with writing stupid stories.” She jerked her things into her arms, as she stood, glaring at the sexy man. She wasn’t fooling me. She’d suck the man’s cock underneath the desk with class going on if he commanded her to do so.
She’d told me as much.
I rolled my eyes, slowly getting to my feet. It could be a very interesting day given the job interview I had later. “Maybe it’ll be on Edgar Allan Poe,” I said almost wistfully.
“Why do you like that dark stuff?” Josie teased.
Shrugging, I knew the answer but certainly couldn’t tell anyone. If I did, I’d lose more than just friendships. “It suits me.”
“I’m worried you might be a witch in disguise.” It had been something Taylor had teased me about since learning my favorite movies were in the horror genre.
A crack of thunder made us all groan.
I made a spooky sound and the girls glared at me, both unable to keep from grinning.
“Another storm. I am sick of the Great Lakes weather.” Taylor half laughed. “At least I have a job in Miami starting in July.”
“What are you going to do, Sara?” Josie asked. They were always teasing me, saying I had my head in the clouds. Maybe I did.
Both girls were from extremely wealthy families, both sinfully gorgeous. I was the misfit of the trio given my parents were barely getting by, but we’d become friends our freshman year. “I’ll have you know I have a fabulous job interview later this afternoon. If I get it, I’ll be allowed to spend my summer doing exactly what I love. Writing a book.”
Taylor shook her head. “You’re not going to make any money doing that.”
“You don’t know that.” I hated being told what I couldn’t do.
“That’s so you,” Josie purred then pulled an apple from her bookbag. “But I’m more the action girl. Watch this. I’ve been waiting all semester to rock the man’s boat.”
“What are you doing?” I shook my head. Josie had had a slew of boyfriends but couldn’t settle down. I’d had one in the four years I’d been here, which wasn’t an experience I’d consider memorable in the least.
She left her bag on the chair as she sauntered down the stairs, daring to unbutton her blouse more than normal.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Taylor hissed. “Does she really think giving the teacher an apple is going to make him look at her twice? He’s an old guy.”
I punched her in the ribs. “He’s not old. He’s mature, which is more than I can say about the assholes in this school.”
As if to prove my point, two of the guys started shooting basketball with balled-up papers inside the lecture hall, whooping and hollering as if they were twelve.
“You’ve got a point there.” We both laughed, watching Josie intently even if we couldn’t hear what was being said.
I had to admit, when she turned on the seduction, she was one hot mama. Yes, I was jealous.
Josie placed the apple on the professor’s desk, leaning over and saying something else. From where we stood, we could see the sexy expression she wore. There was no mistaking her intentions, especially when she was rolling her fingers around her nipple. Jesus Christ. A warm flush rushed from one side of my jaw to the other. I wasn’t exactly a prude, but she was the epitome of a bad girl.
We watched intently for his reaction. In his true grumpy fashion, the gorgeous six-foot four-inch man with eyes the color of whiskey merely took a bite of the forbidden fruit before saying something in return to Josie. That we also couldn’t hear. Damn it. He grabbed his briefcase, turning abruptly toward the door. Before he left, he tossed the mostly uneaten apple into the trashcan.
“Oops. I guess hot mama failed,” Taylor said in a ruthless tone. We both watched as Josie stormed up the tiered set of stairs, holding in our laughter as she grabbed her bag. She was furious, her face reddened from anger.
“What did he say?” I finally asked.
“That if I were the last woman on earth, he wouldn’t go out on a date with me, let alone anything else. That’s it. The man is gay. Fuck him.”
That I doubted. And hoped I was right. He was far too hot with his intense eyes and killer body, including the dragon tattoo on his arm a few of us had been lucky enough to see.
In my mind, he was the perfect man. Dark. Demanding. Dominant.
What could be better?
Even if he’d never paid any attention to me, my gal pals, or the other women in his classes who fawned over him like he was a fine wagyu steak on a silver platter. He was all business, barely saying anything outside of his always prepared lesson plans. Given the size of the room and where Josie, Taylor, and I had assigned ourselves at the start of the semester, I doubt he’d be able to recognize me if we were up close and personal. Besides, I rolled out of bed, pulled my hair into a ponytail and grabbed either jeans or sweatpants to come to class. Sans makeup to boot.
I wasn’t here to be a fashionista like my two friends.
I was tingling all over, even if I knew I couldn’t act on my desires. That wasn’t what good girls did, or those attempting to get a job as an intern with the man.
So he’d stay forbidden albeit a delicious treat for the very bad girl inside of me.
Taylor and I sucked in our breath, trying to keep from snickering as we looked at each other. With every ounce of my being, I doubted that was the truth.
Easton Saint had simply not found the right woman yet.
I licked my bottom lip as we headed out of the lecture hall.
It was going to be a great summer.
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