Kneel. Submit. Obey I have been taken by a man unknown to me. But he is not the one who holds me captive. Not whose voice commands me. Not who watches me with a storm raging in ocean-blue eyes. It is my captor who knows every inch of my body. Who trains me for another man to ruin. But I am not his. I belong to my requestor. Whoever he is . . .

Taken. Broken. Captive. There was a small amount of safety within the walls of my cell. Not anymore. Now my body is broken and bruised. And he’s not here to comfort me. I ache for him. His face dominates my dreams. His body dominates my desire. Then he offers himself to me. But I do not love him. I cannot love him. To do so would risk my chance to escape . . .

Deceived. Stolen. Trapped. I thought I was free but he tricked me. Fooled me into running straight into his arms. Now I am his. His to command. His to use. This story contains dark scenes. Reader discretion is advised.