Prologue

PROLOGUE

Cassandra "Cass" Salvato

T he secluded island, surrounded by the sparkling turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea, is too beautiful to miss even a single sunrise. It's the complete opposite of the harsh, sandy desert I grew up with, which is why I'm up so early, running through the sand before the rest of the house wakes up. Not having the constant shadow of guards for once is also a nice change. I feel free here, even if I know it's an illusion. It's a larger, more scenic prison than our Vegas penthouse, but a forced confinement for me and Sophie all the same while our mobster father wages war against some other villain. Nobody gets on or off the island except by a single boat controlled by my father from nearly three thousand miles away. That's the only reason the guards allow me a slightly longer leash to run alone.

Growing up, I never had any delusions that my father was a good, decent man. Sure, he kills his enemies as easily as he breathes. But he's not evil. Dante Salvato is simply a king ruling over his empire, which means he's the judge, jury, and executioner for anyone stupid enough to try and hurt him, his family, or his business interests.

I don't want to be like my father when I grow up. I want to be better—more powerful, widely feared, and respected. But it's an uphill battle to try and prove to Daddy that just because I was born with a pussy instead of a penis, I'm not incapable of doing any of those things. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to convince my overprotective father that I can take care of myself. Maybe if I could make fools of his big, dick swinging, idiot guards on the mat, I could convince him that their size and sex don't make them superior to me. They've probably never wasted a day training to fight with all that bulk they were born with, while I've spent years learning judo and jujitsu from a legend because I had mastered every element of boxing and kickboxing by the time I was fifteen.

The beachfront estate grows larger as I approach it for the third time this morning, so I slow to a walk and head for the outdoor shower to rinse the sand off my legs. As soon as I remove my earbuds, the hyped-up song that was playing is immediately replaced with the sounds of water already running inside of the wooden shower stall, along with feminine moans.

The swinging door doesn't have a lock, nor does it shut all the way. It's always open a few inches, enough for me to peek inside to find out who the hell is going at it this early in the morning.

At first all I can see is the slick backside of a tall naked man with muscular shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. His scrumptious ass cheeks are paler than the rest of his body. They're also clenching with each thrust into a woman standing against the wall. I can't make out any of her features because the guy is blocking so much of her body. There's a flash of her brunette hair, which is enough to tell me that he's fucking her from behind, gripping her throat in one hand, and the front of her body with the other. At least I can thankfully cross Sophie off the list of who is getting pounded, since her hair is raven black. If Snow White loses her virginity before me, I will kick her ass.

Even though the man is facing the other direction, his blond hair and immense height leave little doubt to his identity. Cole Brooks is the only tall blond in his group of flirty frat boy friends that came with him to the island.

And while it's certainly no surprise that his entire body is at least six-feet-four or five inches of gorgeousness, I'm more stunned by his fast and furious style of fucking.

It's the first time I've ever seen the perfect golden boy looking so…angry. For some reason, I thought the kind, always grinning, momma's boy would be a gentle lover. Instead, Cole fucks like he's pissed off at the world and is taking it out on the poor woman's pussy.

"Oh my god, yes!"

Not that she seems to be complaining.

Her moans only grow louder by the second, along with the slapping of their bodies, making it clear she's on the verge of coming thanks to his rough treatment of her.

At least that's how it seems to work in the porn I've watched.

I don't have any actual experience other than getting myself off. And when I do, it's when I'm alone in my bed late at night when I can't sleep, biting my lip the entire time so I won't make a sound.

And I hate that Cole's…technique is turning me on. My thighs clench in my spandex shorts as my panties become damp from something other than my sweat.

I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to have his fingers wrapped around my throat as he pounds into me from behind. I'm unable to get a look from this angle, but I bet my father's fortune that his other hand is between the woman's legs.

"I'm…I'm…OH!" the woman exclaims.

Cole's punishing hips don't slow down when she comes with a whimper of his name on her lips. They speed up as she moans with pleasure before he finally slams deep once, twice, then groans with his head thrown back. His ass cheeks stay clenched the entire time until he finally takes a step back from the woman. Giving her a loud slap on her ass, she yelps, then immediately drops to her knees, resting her forehead on the wall as if she's unable to hold herself up. She's petite and the back of her head looks familiar. She's either one of the housekeepers or a lifeguard. Other than the guards, all the help on the island has been pretty females, as if my father purposefully sent entertainment for Cole and his rambunctious friends.

The asshole chuckles at the woman's sudden lack of strength before turning his back to her as if she's no longer worth a second of his time now that he got what he wanted from her. He steps headfirst into the shower, letting the water soak his hair. Smoothing the dripping strands back, he turns around with a smug grin on his face, giving me a full-frontal view of his defined pecs, chiseled six-pack abs, and last but certainly not least, the indentations pointing the way down to his sated cock that still bobs against his thighs, so damn long and heavy.

At least now I know why Oliver Twist constantly walks around looking so damn cocky. He's got big dick energy because of what he's packing in his pants.

"You want to take a picture? Might make it easier to finger yourself later when you're thinking about my dick," the smartass says when he notices me standing just outside the crack in the door staring at him. He even fists himself and slowly peels off his condom, tossing it to the ground to give me a look at his now bare, half-hard cock. Cole then strokes his shaft slowly, knowing where my attention remains, and probably enjoying the hell out of it.

Unable to even lift my eyes to his face again, I hold up both of my middle fingers in response to his taunt before forgoing rinsing the sand off my legs and heading straight for the house. My face is no doubt fire engine red, matching my hair color. The arrogant asshole is never going to let me live this moment down.

And since my father just married his mother, I may never be rid of the bastard .

My reaction to his fucking and nudity was ridiculous. I'm just horny and need to lose my virginity as soon as possible.

Which will not be an easy feat. What idiot would risk my father's wrath when he finds out they laid a finger on me? Despite how much skin I show or how much I try to flirt with the limited number of assholes I encounter in my sheltered life, so far nothing has tempted a man into risking the death penalty for popping my cherry.

I guess that means I'll have to try a little harder.

If I can convince my father to let me grapple with his guards, I know plenty of ways to put them on their backs.

Although, sometimes, I may just let them mount me.