The Red (The Godwicks, #1)

by Tiffany Reisz

Art should be dangerous, you know. It should say something to society that society doesn’t want to hear. Do you know what the opposite of art is? Propaganda. There’s too much of that in the world. Not enough art. And certainly not enough of this...”

It felt so odd to be used in this manner. No dinner first. No tender kisses. No foreplay other than a discussion of art history, which, for a woman like her, was arousing in its own way.

“The things you do to me…I’d never dare dream them, much less do them. And yet, when I’m with you, there is no game I wouldn’t play, nothing of my body would I keep from you. You leave me and I go mad with waiting. You leave me and you are my every waking thought and my every sleeping dream. And if I knew when you were returning to me, I would count the minutes until I saw you again.”

And just when she couldn’t take anymore, they gave her more. They gave her more.

“If you were for sale I would pawn my soul to buy you,” the midnight man said into her ear. “I would buy you and keep you a naked slave chained to my bed. I would show off your cunt to every man who crossed the threshold of my house so they could see my prized possession and envy me. I would fuck beautiful women in front of you and send them home right after, still dripping with my seed, so you would know that I could have any girl I wanted but you were the only one I wanted to keep. I would tie you to the dining room table and drink my wine out of you. I would let my dearest friends bend you over the billiard table and fuck your pussy and arse while I sat in my favorite club chair, sipping Scotch and watching you writhe for my entertainment. Then later when I’m fucking you in our bed, you can tell