The Art of Redemption by Ella Dominguez Read Free Book Online Page A

up beyond repair after what he did to his parents.
    Once at home, he stood outside his dungeon and eyed all of the equipment and tools that he had mastered during his years of being a Dom. He would miss it. Every last bit of it. but most especially the powerful feeling that came with dominating a submissive. Glancing over his shoulder, the spare room door sat ajar.
    Erica fucking Lawson.
    How could he have been so blind? A hot tide of inner loathing stung the back of his throat at his own ignorance. Sawyer had tried to caution him about her, but he was so damned fascinated with her that he had ignored the warnings. It wasn’t necessarily a fascination with her as much as it was a fixation on what she was allowing him to do to her. He had been living out his sadistic fantasies with her and she had always come back for more. Even begged for it. All along he thought it was because she enjoyed it, because she needed the pain like he needed to inflict it, that she accepted his actions because she cared about what made him happy, but no . It was simply because she wanted what was in his bank account. Of course she only wanted his money. He was unlovable.
    He pivoted on one foot and kicked the door to her room open. All his pent up anger ripped through him like a firestorm as he began to tear the room apart, shredding everything that his hands came into contact with. His grunts and garbled moans echoed throughout the hallway as he destroyed the last of her possessions; belongings he had bought and given to her like a lust-struck, jackass.
    When he was done ravaging Erica’s room, he made his way to the dungeon and hid everything away underneath fresh linen and slammed the door closed behind him.
    Everything he knew, everyone he had grown close to, the only real family he had, was gone and his life as he knew it - was over. No more BDSM. No more Dark Asylum. No more hedonistic and sadistic pleasure. No matter how much he needed those things, he couldn’t ever risk someone holding those things over his head and threatening him.
    Seated in his office chair and his elbows braced on his thighs, he held his head in his hands as he closed his eyes and let his anger seep away. At least he still had art. No one could ever take that away from him. Not even that threatening little backstabbing bitch Erica fucking Lawson.

Chapter 6
    Isabel
    Isa may have had a dream job in an art gallery, but her elation was tempered by a boss from hell who wouldn’t keep his hands off her. She sat staring at her hands as Mr. Greer circled around her like a vulture seeking its prey. His fingers pushed her hair aside and skimmed along the back of her neck sending shivers of loathing down her spine. God, she hated when he touched her .
    Her brain was yelling at her to say or do something to put a stop to it, but as usual, sh e just sat there like a dim-wit and took it. What would she say to him anyway without risking losing her job? A career that she loved? An occupation that afforded her the luxury of being around beautiful images painted by real artists? She had been putting up with his sexual inappropriateness for practically a year now and with each passing minute, he only got bolder with his advances. Now here he was, in her apartment. He could have any woman in the office, so why her? Why now? It certainly wasn’t because of her sexual appeal or looks. Most likely it had to do with the fact that he could bully and dominate her. And she fucking allowed it. Disgusted with herself and unable to take anymore, she rose from her love seat to demand he leave when he reached into a small bag he had brought along and pulled out a bottle of wine.
    She eyed it dubiously but reached for it. A drink would ease her nerves and it might even give her the courage to kick his ass out. Just one drink, though. Only one, she promised herself.
    Disjointed sounds, images and sensations came next. Mr. Greer standing over her as his pants slid down his slim hips, his rigid cock