Chapter 1
Rose
I was falling. Succumbing to him. He had me wrapped around his little finger so tightly I didn’t know whether I’d ever be able to unwind myself. With every thrust of his powerful hips, I became more and more addicted to our magnetic connection. We were two of a kind, two puzzle pieces sticking together despite all odds, and as he fucked me, I knew he felt the same thing in every move he made, in every twitch of his cock and every throbbing vein that ran the length of his cock.
“Master,” I breathed, but his feverish, panting mouth shut me up.
He latched on to me as if I were his lifeline, trying to suck my soul out through my mouth. I kissed him with the same desperation, feeling as if I’d been possessed. This had been going on for months; so many months that I realized I’d been in the Mansion for over a year.
My nineteenth birthday had come and gone, celebrated with Amber during the day and between the sheets with my master at night. I’d grown so much since the first day I was thrown on the floor by Ellis. I was a different woman, a new character, and through the weeks that had passed, I’d managed to find peace in my new situation.
I didn’t know whether it was possible for me to ever be truly happy, yet in Thorn’s kind ownership, I found my soul again and lived to please him as much as I lived to dance.
He still let me dance for him. Only for him. Nobody else was allowed to be in the room when I did it.
The only exception he made was for my training.
Thorn had flown in an expert from France to train Amber and me. At first, I couldn’t believe it. The man, Ivan Marchante, was a legend. He’d taught so many dancers I aspired to be like.
He made me cry in the first few hours of our training, and Thorn threatened to kill him if he hurt me again. Amber watched with wide-eyed horror as he attacked the dancer, and I had to call for a guard’s help to get Thorn off his back. After that, Marchante was kinder, but I always thought he preferred Amber over me, even though he often told her to copy my movements to better herself.
I was surprised Thorn had gone to those lengths just to ensure I would be happy.
At first, our relationship was incredibly rocky. I couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done in front of me, but he claimed he only had me in mind. However, I didn’t want to be responsible for someone’s death, even if it was someone as despicable as Ellis. I couldn’t carry the blame.
The first weeks after I’d danced on those roses for him were the hardest. I closed up, not wanting nor even willing to understand what was happening to me. I spent my days in the bay window, where the beautiful raven-girl had sat before me, and felt like I’d taken on her role. I wasn’t naked, but I rarely spoke, keeping my eyes on the beach that I still wasn’t allowed to visit.
Amber had been the one to pull me from going under yet again. My time spent with her was when I could truly be myself, and she slowly came to understand that the Mansion wasn’t what she’d thought it to be. In many ways, we became like sisters, and we spoke to one another about anything and everything. I’d been the one to hold her when she broke down in tears, realizing she might not get out of there anytime soon, and she was there for me, too, every single time tears sprung to my eyes. She consoled me, talked a mile a minute and made me forget all about our captivity. Together, we were stronger.
I didn’t talk about Thorn all that often. I kept the times he came into my bedroom late at night a secret, the times when he buried himself inside me and fucked and took and gave all in equal measure, making me lose my mind time and time again as he filled me with his seed. At first, it was shameful, like an affair. I didn’t want anyone to know I was letting him fuck me. We didn’t speak, and I kept my eyes pressed tightly together when he was inside me. But as much as I tried to pretend he was someone else, my mind begged to open my eyes and be reminded of the man inside me, because no matter what I told him or myself, I was addicted to Thorn and Thorn alone. He was the only one I wanted.
The first time I looked at him, my blood pumped through my veins with adrenaline. He was looking at me, angrily pumping his hips against me and filling me up.