Felicity Brandon [Brandon - Tempted: The Dark Necessities—Dalton’s Tale #1

Tempted

The Dark NecessitiesDaltons Tale

Book One

Copyright 2019 by Felicity Brandon

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address:

This book is entirely a work of fiction. The author does not condone, nor endorse any of the acts in this book.

First edition September 2019

Cover design by Eris Adderly

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I can resist everything but temptation . Oscar Wilde

A note to my readersthank you for coming on this journey with mewherever the darkness takes us.

My gratitude is limitless.

Chapter One

Dalton

The blue haze of the light swept over Daltons face, blinding him for a fraction of a second while the melodic thrum of the bass reverberated through his body. Dirty Deeds was absolutely packed with revelers, and checking his expensive wristwatch, he realized why. It was nearing midnight, and the peak party hours were usually between eleven at night and two in the morning. His gaze scanned over the mass of gyrating bodies on the dance floor below. They were all young, pretty things, lost in the high of the music, or whatever substance theyd taken. Watching them made Dalton feel all the more detached.

Detached from the music, from their connection to it, from it all.

Man, you look like I feel.

The sound of a male voice caught Daltons attention, and he turned from the balcony to find Manuel beside him. Dalton offered him a tired smile, nodding as he leaned in to reply. Do you ever feel like youre past it? he asked with a smirk. Just watching them all down there makes me exhausted.

Manuel snorted, lifting a tumbler of bourbon to his lips. I dont spend too long thinking about it, Dalton, he called back. It sounds like youve got too much time on your hands, my old friend.

Daltons brow instinctively arched at the reply. Maybe Manuel was right.

How long has it been since youve had a good woman? Manuel pressed, moving in closer to Daltons side so that he didnt have to shout quite so loudly to be heard over the banging bass.

Dalton squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. Manuel raised an interesting point. How long had it been? Too long, he concluded wistfully as he turned back to look at his friend. You think thats the answer?

Manuel shrugged. Im no expert, Dalton, he replied. But I know this, without Gloria Id be less of a man. She gives me the focus I need to be a better version of me.

He yanked the end of the leash he was holding in his free hand as he concluded, drawing the semi-clad body of his long-time submissive girlfriend, Gloria to heel beside him. Daltons gaze fell over the woman on all fours beside Manuel, his mind working overtime at his words. Like his brother, Manuel shared the same proclivities for dominance and submission that Dalton did, and he made no bones about it. Daltons cock stirred at the image of Gloria, but he knew it was more the idea of winning the submission of an amazing woman that aroused him, and not the woman herself. Gloria was attractive of course, but shed been with his friend for years, and Dalton had no desire to break up a happy home.

I guess I havent found the right woman yet, he conceded, shifting his attention back to Manuel. A few years his senior, Manuel was half Spanish and half British, and it meant he had an enviable style. The man looked good in practically everything he wore, and his tanned skin and blue eyes meant he turned heads wherever he went. The fact that he was also second in command in The Syndicate did his credibility no harm either.

Keep looking, my friend, encouraged Manuel with a nod. She is out there right now, probably searching for you, too.

Dalton sighed at that. Manuel, it seemed, was an incurable romantic.

Im going to call it a night, he told Manuel. Ill catch up with you tomorrow.

Manuel nodded. Saul wants to see us both at ten.

Of course. The meeting with Saul was tomorrow. How could he have forgotten that? Dalton really must be tired.

See you then, he called as his attention turned to his fastest route out of the place.

With a sigh Dalton turned and made his way through the throng in the VIP seating area. At nearly forty-six, he was getting too old for all this, yet somehow, hed found himself here again. Hed been restless since the ordeal with Connor, unable to focus his mind on anything, and even now he couldnt quite wrap his head around what he had done. Had he really strangled his own brother with his bare hands? Was that possible? Dalton squeezed his eyes closed momentarily as the questions rushed over him. There was no point in pretending. He had done it, and even though his younger brother had practically begged him to do the deed, there was no denying the horror of what hed achieved in the process. Hed throttled Connor until he blacked out, and then hed been forced to endure Mollys understandable reaction when shed found him slumped over the bench unconscious. Dalton inhaled as he recalled her disbelief and anger. He knew hed never forget the fierce accusations Mollys eyes conveyed that night.

That was all one week ago now. Connor, of course, was fine, having been fully checked out by The Syndicates medical team in the interim, and bizarrely he even seemed more contented after the ordeal. Dalton wished he could say the same. Hed been haunted by the events of that evening ever since, as if the act had woken some latent force within him that Dalton had tried to bury. And now, with Connor and Molly off on an unlikely excursion to Northumberland, Dalton found he was at a permanent loose end, and hed ended up frequenting The Syndicates clubs for the two nights since. He didnt know what he was looking for. He hated the music, the women were doing nothing for him, and his head was pounding, but without the distraction of his brother, Dalton was bored, and frankly, it was starting to show. Hed spent many years without Connor in his life, of course. All those months Connor had lived out on his own, Dalton had survived. Hed flourished actually, finding himself on The Syndicates senior board with Saul and Manuel, and hed been pretty happy, too. But then, in classic Connor-style, his little brother had come crashing back into the picture, and everything had gone to hell.

Again.

Connor had a history of major screw-ups. The matter of Lydia sprung to mind, and now there was Molly, although even Dalton had to admit, when he watched Connor with his newest lover, he thought he saw something new in his brothers eyes. Something hed never expected to see from someone like Connor: something like devotion.

It seemed everyone else was pairing up, except for Dalton, and the thought depressed him, probably more than he cared to admit. Dalton had enjoyed more than his fair share of women, but none of them ever really lasted. In the last few years, hed taken to enjoying one-off interactions with the ladies at The Syndicates BDSM club, Diablo. That had been good fun, and hed relished practicing his rope skills, but recently even those experiences were becoming rather staid and repetitive. Dalton found that he wanted more, and seeing the intensity with which Connor and Molly had looked at each other recently only made the situation harder to bear. How can his little brother be loved-up for Gods sake? That was too much. Connor was many things; an arrogant, selfish prick with little in the way of a conscience being his staple assets, but happy in a relationship? Hardly. As in, that hardly ever happened. If there was one thing Dalton could count on, it was that Connor had even worse luck with women than he did. He had always seen them as commoditiesthings he could use and screw at willor at least, he had, until Molly.