7 Little Letters: Tainted Love, #0

By P. A. Holt

They turned me into the faithless mistress they knew I could be and I was fine with that.

 

Until I was sold.

 

One night of trying to save her boyfriend's brother from a gang of criminals turned Anna's life upside down. A year later, she's let go of her past and embraced her present – kept in a luxurious penthouse by a callous billionaire to satisfy his desires.

 

But someone else wants her, someone who will stop at nothing to possess her.

 

Through a series of dark letters, Anna learns the clock on what little freedom she has is ticking down, day by day. Because for one man, as broken as she is, she's the woman who will help him ensure a dynasty of power to last generations.

 

This short and not-so-sweet dark romance novella of young love gone wrong is the prequel to the Tainted Love series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wicked Hearts Publishing
• Release date: Aug 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386566939

Book preview

7 Little Letters

They turned me into the faithless mistress they knew I could be and I was fine with that.

Until I was sold.

One night of trying to save her boyfriend’s brother from a gang of criminals turned Anna’s life upside down. A year later, she’s let go of her past and embraced her present – kept in a luxurious penthouse by a callous billionaire to satisfy his desires.

But someone else wants her, someone who will stop at nothing to possess her.

Through a series of dark letters, Anna learns the clock on what little freedom she has is ticking down, day by day. Because for one man, as broken as she is, she’s the woman who will help him ensure a dynasty of power to last generations.

This short and not-so-sweet novella of young love gone wrong is the prequel to the Tainted Love series.

Prologue

It's the same way every time he visits me. I'm blindfolded and he starts by touching me, his hands a firm but gentle caress along my back. There's an almost reverent quality to it, like I'm not just a living plaything gifted to him, but someone he cares about.

Until he gets to my thighs. He drags those fingers up and down between them, making tingles shoot through my entire body. And of course I love it. This is what I have been conditioned to accept after three months living among these people. If you can call this living.

I lean into it and moan every single time. He’s the only one I do that for. I know I toss my long hair and the sensation of it tickling my back just enhances my pleasure.

Then he is in front of me, grasping my shoulders as if he can no longer wait. He never kisses me. He just stands and grips and grinds himself against my hips. It's so hot, like an inferno pressed against me, I gasp at the heat.

After that, he guides me back on to the bed and then pushes into me. He’s done hardly anything to turn me on, yet I'm wet, my body not quite open, but accepting. That’s what they expect of me. My body knows it’s only choice is to obey.

He never holds back. His fingers curl around my shoulders and he just rams into me as fast as he can. I can feel his hardness filling me, stretching me. It hurts so, so good. And, foreplay or not, I always come for him.

I don't want to, but there's no stopping it. If I was allowed to speak, I’d ask for more.

Afterward, he rolls to my side, gathers me close, and holds me until my breathing evens out and I drift off to sleep.

This is my life, the life of a woman taken from all she knew, simply because she tried to help someone she cared about. Now I’m passed from man to man. I have no cares in the world. Everything I could possibly need or want is provided to me, as long as I spread my legs. I went from a prison cell to a room with lovely furniture, designer clothing, even jewelry.

No, it's not lovely. It's dangerous.

It’s also a dream, because those visits started brutally in my first cage and then stopped more than a year ago when I was placed in a newer, more exquisite cage. After I was passed off to another man.

It almost made me sad to think I’d never see him again.

I was wrong.

Chapter One

It started with a letter . A letter in seven pieces.

I received an envelope that Monday, containing a raggedly torn piece of paper. How he knew me or my address, I never figured out. I just knew he wanted to do things to me. On day one, I knew he had more information about me than any stranger had a right to have.

Darling Anna,

This letter has found you in your apartment, probably sated after an afternoon with your current owner or perhaps awaiting him. Is he good? Does he make you scream with pleasure? Rest assured, that is my goal, too.

After receiving the strange fragment, with its dark, heavy handwriting, I tuck it away in my bedside table. No, I don’t go to the police, and not just because I’m shaking so badly that I can’t dial their number. Nor do I bother to pick up the phone, because I know what men like this are capable of.

Instead, I wait. This man is either an enemy of