The Private Garden


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 The Private Garden
 Oly TL
 Translated from the French by Iris Clarke
 Copyright
 This novel is a work fiction. Names and characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 
 Original title: Jardin secretpublished by Éditions Addictives Paris, France
 Copyright © 2023 by EdisourceCopyright © 2023 by Warm Publishing
 Cover design by Angela HaddonProofreading by Emily
 ISBN: 979-8-9856135-7-5
 All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and/or electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected].
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 Ebook edition: March 2023
 
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 Trigger Warning
 WARNING: Although The Private Garden is a romance please note that there are several themes within this book that may trigger those who have experienced similar trauma. If you are easily triggered by dark content like violence, sexual assault, drug, or grief, proceed with caution and at your own discretion.
 Pronunciation Guide
 Océane = owSey-AEN
 Anaïs = Ah-Nah-EESE
 Gaëlle = Guy-Elle
 Part I
 Locked Access…
 Some things are worth taking our time for.
 Like learning to understand someone or a given situation in depth…
 Or letting a third party into a forbidden area, too private. We must not go too fast so as not to fail, not to regret.
 After all, don’t secrets often remain buried under a candid layer of routine and appearances for a good reason?
 I prefer to seal off the entrances. No one gets in; no one needs to know…
 Prologue
 Tiger
 Mists of the past…
 “Stronger.”
 “We have already passed the critical threshold; I don’t—”
 “Stronger, I said!”
 “Very well, Mr. Sexton,” Lady Candice abdicates.
 For the umpteenth time, I urge her to increase the intensity of the electric shocks. Recalcitrant, she contemplates the electrodes scattered over my abs, groin, and thighs. Then her gaze with smoky outlines probes mine. She frowns, more and more destabilized. I don’t think she often loses her composure in this kind of context.
 “It’s not enough,” I repeat to her.
 Here’s the deal. I’m half naked in bed; shirt open, no more suit jacket or tie, no more pants, shoes, or socks. Just my boxers, my erection, and those damn electrodes that send nothing but shit. My “lady” activates the control box. Is that all she’s got?
 “Again.”
 “No,” she replies.
 “I thought you were the toughest. Am I wrong?”
 Her face puts on her usual sitting expression. Even if she loses it a little too often these days with me. Damn, this is the last one on the list of those recommended to me! At this point, she is proving to be as disappointing as the previous ones.
 And yet, perched on her black stilettos, molded in her vinyl sheath, Candice stands up to me. She runs her tongue over her crimson lips and readjusts her fake glasses on her nose.
 Does this accessory make her look like a stern and horny schoolteacher? Yes.
 Is that enough for me? No. I want more, damn it!
 As time passed, my patience wore thin, and my frustration was soaring.
 “Have I misjudged your skills, Lady Candice?”
 “No. But it’s also my job to take responsibility when you put your life at risk during a session on purpose, Tiger,” she says to me.
 “Tiger? And are we on familiar terms now?”
 “Look, I… I think we should stop, Mr. Sexton.”
 Right now, I’m one step away from panicking internally. My last resort is dropping the case too. It’s been two years since I…
 Damn it!
 “Why?” I reply in a calm tone.
 On the surface, I am. In the background, the turmoil is unleashed.
 “You… You know that very well, Mr. Sexton.”
 “No, enlighten me, Candice. We have an agreement; you’re not going to give up after a few pathetic sessions,” I argue.
 Our eyes lock, and I run my fingers through my messy hair.
 “I knew that your requirements were more demanding… Even though I have been doing this job for a while, I am still a woman, and I know who you are, just like the rest of the country does.”
 “And who am I?”
 “Tiger Sexton.”
 “Okay… Since when is that a problem?”
 “It becomes a problem when ‘the 19-year-old, head of one of the world’s biggest fortunes’ pushes me to fuck him up! This trend gets worse every night. You ask me to go too far, always too far.”
 I straighten up, tear off the electrodes and get out of bed. Grabbing the bottle of vodka that I had started, I take a sip. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stare at the one who obviously forgets who is paying the other to satisfy him.
 “No,” I say calmly. “You’re supposed to be a pro, and I’m the client. It’s just a transaction. S & M fucking and boundaries. I know my limits; my name and money have nothing to do with it.”
 She turns in circles, then finally borrows my bottle for a drink.
 “Exactly,” Candice says gently, handing me back the bottle. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Mr. Sexton. Even if you don’t want to physically dominate your sexual partners, I wonder which of us is subject to the will of the other here.”
 With a smirk, I grab her by the waist and