Chapter 1

Sally's POV

Today was my eighteenth birthday.

The house was filled with balloons and a towering cake sat on the dining table. Mom and my stepfather Kaven were celebrating with me, their faces lit by flickering candlelight. But I couldn't focus on any of it.

My phone buzzed against my thigh. I glanced down at the screen, heat flooding my cheeks instantly.

Steven: "Baby, tonight I want to completely have you."

My breath caught. I pressed my legs together instinctively, feeling that familiar ache building between my thighs. Steven was everything I'd imagined in a boyfriend. Tall, muscular, with that raw masculine energy that made my pulse race every time he looked at me. We'd been planning this for weeks. Tonight was supposed to be the night I finally experienced what I'd been craving, that pleasure I'd only touched in my dreams.

"Sally, sweetheart, make a wish!" Mom's voice cut through my thoughts.

I looked up, forcing a smile as I leaned toward the cake. The candlelight danced across Kaven's face. My stepfather stood beside Mom, one hand resting on her waist, but his dark eyes were fixed on me. Something in his gaze made my stomach flip. I tore my eyes away and blew out the candles quickly.

Dinner dragged on forever. Mom kept asking questions about school, about my plans for college, about everything except what I actually wanted to talk about. All I could think about was Steven waiting for me, about finally crossing that threshold into womanhood.

The moment dessert plates were cleared, I stood. "I'm going out for a bit."

"Out?" Mom's fork clattered against her plate. "It's nine o'clock on a school night."

"It's Friday, Mom. And it's my birthday."

Her eyes narrowed, that knowing look mothers have. "You're meeting that boy, aren't you? Steven?"

My face burned. "So what if I am?"

"Absolutely not." She stood, crossing her arms. "You're too naive, Sally. I won't let some hormone-driven boy trick you out of your first time."

"That's not what this is!" Tears stung my eyes, frustration boiling over. "You don't understand anything!"

"I understand plenty." Her voice was steel. "You're not leaving this house tonight."

"You can't stop me! I'm eighteen now!"

"Try me."

We argued back and forth, our voices rising until even Kaven looked uncomfortable. Finally, Mom's patience snapped. She grabbed my wrist and marched me to my bedroom, practically shoving me inside.

"You will not leave tonight. Do you understand me?"

The door slammed. I heard the lock click from the outside.

I collapsed on my bed, tears streaming down my face. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. I was supposed to be with Steven, supposed to finally experience what my body had been screaming for. Instead, I was locked in my room like a child.

A soft knock came at my door maybe twenty minutes later.

"Sally?" Kaven's voice was gentle through the wood. "Your mom went to bed. Can I come in?"

I heard the lock turn. He must have grabbed the master key. The door opened slowly, and my stepfather stepped inside, closing it behind him.

God, he looked good. Even through my tears, I couldn't help but notice. Kaven was in his early forties, but he wore it well. Broad shoulders, strong jawline, those intense dark eyes that always seemed to see right through me. Ever since Mom brought me to live here when I was sixteen, I'd been tortured by inappropriate thoughts about him.

"Hey, princess." He sat on the edge of my bed, close enough that I could smell his cologne. "That was quite a fight."

"She doesn't understand," I whispered, wiping my eyes. "She treats me like I'm still a child."

"You're not a child anymore, are you?" His voice dropped lower. "You're a woman now. With a woman's needs."

My breath hitched. Was he really saying what I thought he was saying?

"I... I just wanted..."

"To feel good?" His hand found mine, fingers tracing lazy circles on my palm. The touch sent electricity straight between my legs. "To understand what all the fuss is about? What your body is begging for?"

"Yes," I breathed. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might burst from my chest.

"Your mother means well, Sally. But she doesn't understand that sometimes... a girl needs proper guidance." His thumb pressed into my palm, sending waves of heat through my core. "Someone experienced. Someone who knows exactly how to make her feel incredible."

"Kaven..." I couldn't believe what was happening. This was my stepfather. This was wrong. But God, I wanted it so badly.

"Let daddy teach you, sweetheart." His free hand came up to brush a tear from my cheek, fingers lingering on my jaw.

I was trembling now, my thighs pressed together so tight it almost hurt. "How would you...?"

"My workshop." His eyes gleamed. "You've been curious about it for years, haven't you? I've seen you staring at that locked door. Wondering what's inside."

My pulse thundered in my ears. He knew. He'd known all along that I'd been dying to see what was in his secret room.

"I design adult toys, Sally. Beautiful, sophisticated instruments of pleasure. And I need someone to help me test them. Someone young, sensitive, responsive." His fingers traced down my neck, barely touching, but it was enough to make me gasp. "Someone like you."

God, I swallowed hard. My mouth had gone dry. The secret room—I'd fantasized about it almost as much as I'd fantasized about him. What kind of toys did an adult product designer keep in his private sanctuary? What would he do to me in there?

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Okay."

"Okay what, sweetheart?"

"Okay... daddy."I heard myself whisper. My body was already responding, already preparing itself for whatever came next. "Teach me."

My legs were shaking as I took his hand. Heat pooled between my thighs, my panties already damp with anticipation. This was really happening. After two years of forbidden fantasies, I was finally going to cross that line.

Kaven led me out of my bedroom and down the hall to the door that had haunted my dreams. The one that was always locked, always mysterious. He pulled out a key, and I held my breath as he turned it.

The door opened.

"Welcome to paradise, princess."

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