Page 56 of Savage Don

“Exactly! Look, I don’t know how long you’d been watching me for, but if it was for even a month, you’d know how boring my life is. The most excitement I’d ever get was when I was sneaking to and from school. But that thrill would wear off quickly enough. And then I’d only be stressed out and bored.”

“Sneaking out doesn’t seem like something a good girl would do.”

“It is when you’re the daughter of a crime lord.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “So, your idea of rebellion was getting an education behind your father’s back?”

How ironic, the man I suspect of planning a rebellion behind my back is being secretly rebelled against by his own daughter.

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Perhaps,” I shrug. “But it doesn’t explain the pills.”

“I just wanted to be a regular college girl,” Francesca sighs. “Everyone I know has had sex before. Why not me?”

“So, you were taking the pill as what? Preparation? Motivation?”

“Either. Both,” she says, those big hazel eyes shimmering in the morning sunlight.

Thinking of just how dirty this good girl could actually be makes my cock as hard as it’s ever been before. I’m sure she can see it, but I don’t bother to hide anything.

Fuck. How did I manage to go the whole night without tearing her nightgown off?

“Well, now it’s going to pay off,” I say, taking a big step towards her. “Swallow your pill for the day and come with me.”

Turning around again, I adjust the bulge throbbing beneath my grey sweatpants.

Obviously, Francesca is desperate to be taught the ways of the world. She wants to be corrupted.

So, that’s exactly what I’ll do.

I’ll be her dirty teacher. Her master. Her lover.

But I’ll keep my cold heart out of it.

Because my encounter with Sonia earlier today reminded me why I haven’t allowed myself to fall for anyone since I was a stupid teenager.

There are no happy endings in this corrupted world, no fairy tales. This shit is dark and depraved and absolutely filthy.

I’ll make sure Francesca learns all about it.

First up on the syllabus: How to feed a man’s hunger.

All of it.

12

Francesca

“Where are you taking me?”

It feels like I’m still half-asleep, lost somewhere between a nightmare and a dirty dream.

“Slaves don’t ask questions, they only answer them,” Ray scolds me. His broad shoulders sway with every long step he takes. His white undershirt is tight enough that I can see the faint lines of his dark back tattoos. But that’s not the image that’s seared into my mind.

Instead, all I can see is the gigantic bulge I know is hiding just beneath his grey sweatpants. I got an intimate view back in the bedroom. There’s no way he’s wearing underwear. The outline was too clear.

Despite my best intentions, drool pools in the corners of my lips as I follow the menacing older man through a bright, sunlit open hallway, and then down a set of glass-bordered stairs.