She was an enigma, as innocent as she was beautiful. But one taste would never be enough.
I was the merciless Don of the Saint family, the title handed to me by my older brother. Our family was notorious and dangerous, running Chicago with iron fists. I had no conscience, no sense of humanity, crushing my enemies like bugs.
No one could soothe the beast. Then a beautiful ballerina crossed my path, her vulnerability calling to the savage in me. Unable to get her off my mind, I took her as mine, the sweetest possession in my collection. Now, she’d only dance for me. But my desire quickly turned into a darker obsession.
Refusing to take no for an answer, her cries of pleasure ignited me. And every time I took her over my knee, painting her bottom a blushing pink, I was reminded of the monster I’d become. But there was no going back.
Soon, I’d break her, bending her to my will. Only then would she become my complete salvation.
