True Nature
About
Lucy has always known what she wants: a man who takes charge.
She got Max Traeger.
He decides. He leads. He expects obedience.
Then the rules become real. So do the consequences.
Because Max has always known what he wants: love on his terms.
His rules. His discipline. His control.
She should walk away. Instead, she falls deeper.
And the deeper she falls, the harder one question becomes: can she live on his terms?
True Nature is the first book in Willow Madison’s TRUE series and an introduction to the Dark Domesti-verse: contemporary dark romance where rules, consequences, possession, and surrender go far beyond closed doors.
This is not a romance about a dominant man softened by love. It is dark, intimate, and unapologetic about the pull of control, desire, and the things people want most when no one else is watching.
This is a story about a relationship as consuming as it is complicated—one filled with a possessive hero, domestic discipline, power exchange, psychological tension, jealousy, and explicit heat.
For readers who love the intensity and power dynamics of dark omegaverse—but want the world contemporary, non-paranormal, and entirely human—welcome to Willow Madison's Dark Domesti-verse.
Edition Notes: Fully re-edited and expanded with approximately 6,000 additional words.
Content Notes / Trigger Warnings: Mature themes and explicit content; power-exchange and domestic-discipline dynamics; punishment and humiliation; possessive and controlling behavior; emotional manipulation; jealousy; complex consent dynamics; references to abuse; and on-page violence.
— Excerpt —
MAX
We find a guy I don’t know standing over Lucy and Stephie. He’s right in front of Lucy, though. She has a half-full flute in her hand again, too.
The guy is obviously looking down her dress and standing too close, his own flute empty. Lucy leans back, laughing loudly, tits shaking too much. I have to calm my instant reaction, taking a breath before taking a step into her view.
As she sees me, a look of confusion crosses her face. Probably a reaction to the steely expression I can feel setting on my face, my jaw clenched, lips pressed into a tight line.
“Hey…,” Noting the glasses in my hand and Mike standing behind me, she freezes in mid-greeting.
I imagine for a second what I would like to do in this situation, if Lucy and I were further along in our relationship. Taking a deep breath, I calm myself, my fingers squeezing both glasses.
Good thing Becca insists on good crystal, or I might need stitches tonight.
I allow a grin to cross my features.
As Lucy falters, the guy turns in my direction. Mike immediately steps in between us. “Hey, we haven’t met yet. We’re Dan’s old college buddies, I’m Mike. This is Max.” He remains between us.
The guy smiles slightly, taking in the two drinks in my hands. He figures out that Lucy is with me and he steps back. He’s probably also reacting to my cold expression and tense arms.
“I work with Dan in publishing.” He puts out his hand for Mike to shake, then for me. I shrug sarcastically with the two glasses still in my hands. Stephie jumps up to stand next to Mike, with a quick glance at me and eyes wider for a second, a smirk on her lips. I move past them and look at Lucy.
She has the most perfect look of guilt and shame, like I caught her in the act of misbehaving. I have to stop myself from smiling.
I want to keep that look on her face for as long as I can.
Lucy glances down at the flute in her hand, then back up at me. She tries to smile, her lips only lifting slightly before her brows knit in consternation.
I hand her the glass of wine I’m holding. She takes it with a weak, “Thanks.” Now holding two flutes, her blush of embarrassment deepens.
I lean over her and put my hand on the other glass, adding with an edge to my voice and a wink, “I’ll take this for you.”
I jerk it out of her hand, the base of the flute striking her fingers. The champagne swishes but doesn’t leave the glass.
Silently, Lucy stares up at me with the perfect cocktail of emotions — a heaping amount of shame with a splash of shock.
Sitting next to her, I put my hand high on her thigh, ignoring the guy as he walks away. Stephie pulls Mike away, too, giving Lucy and me one last look over her shoulder.
I decide not to say something about Lucy’s behavior.
We’re not there yet.
Not the right time to reveal that much of myself.
Certainly not around a bunch of other people.
Lucy rubs her fingers against the cool glass I gave her. Taking her hand, I kiss her palm. Her fingers are a little pinker where the flute hit them, but she relaxes somewhat.
She leans over me, looking at the drink I hold. “Is that bourbon in your hand, mister?”
“Yes.” I’d forgotten all about teasing her with it. I grin. “Knob Creek — I believe you’re familiar with it.”
She slaps my chest and leans over me more, her own drink nearly empty again. “Give me that.” She reaches for the glass, but I leave it on the arm of the sofa, out of her reach.
Pushing her shoulder back with my other hand, I shake my head. “Nope. Told you. Not a little girl’s drink.”
Our faces are close together, her upper body now fully leaning on me, only my hand keeping any distance between us. Her laughter dies down in response to the look on my face, though. I’d meant to only tease her and let her have a sip, but my anger from earlier must make my expression harder than I intended.
She starts to move back and say something, but I pull her toward me and kiss her. She responds by pushing into me more and kissing back harder.
“Get a room.” Dan stands over us.
Lucy blushes and hides her face behind her hair, turning into me and smiling.
Stephie walks over with Becca. “Come on, Lucy, the tour’s starting.”
Lucy laughs and gets up without saying anything else. I watch her walk away, the sway of her ass under the thin material of her dress making the outline of her thong clearly visible.
I stand up next to Dan now, taking a big gulp. “So, what did Becca get you this year?”
He raises his brows up and down wickedly. I shake my head.
***
As we walk down her street, I hold Lucy upright.
“I had a nice time.” Her words slur.
“I can tell.” I laugh as she nearly trips on the sidewalk, my hold of her the only thing keeping her from falling.
We make it up her stairs and I fish her key out of her purse. She tries for a seductive gaze but only manages a sloppy grin. “Are you going to come in this time?”
“Yes.” I push the door open and lead her inside.
“Oh, goody.” Her laugh turns into a hiccup, and she leans into me more.
Keeping one hand on her, I prevent her from falling as she wobbles around her living room trying to kick off her shoes.
Turning suddenly, she pushes herself against me. “Wanna carry me to bed and have your way with me?”
My cock stiffens instantly at this thought.
I pick her up and carry her over to her bed. Standing her up, I keep her in one arm against me while I pull her bedcovers back. I get her to lie down and pull the covers over her.
Her arms snake around my neck, pulling me down closer. “No. Get in bed… please?”
Her little girl voice is almost too much to resist, but I don’t want our first time to be like this, with her drunk and unable to decide for herself.
She nearly kills me, though, when she says, “I want you to tell me what to do… to control me like you like to do.” Her blue eyes brighten under her fluttering lashes. “You do like to be in control, don’t you, Max?”
“Get some sleep, little girl.” I go to kiss her forehead, but she turns her head up and I give in to kissing her deeply, pulling her up to a seated position.
“I am your little girl, aren’t I?” Her eyes sparkle more; her lips wet with a grin playing across them.
She tries to reach into my pants. I pull her hands away and hold both of them in mine.
She pouts. “I thought you wanted me.”
“I do.”
“Then take me.” She falls back against her pillow, her tits bouncing.
She opens her eyes when I don’t move toward her. “I’ll do whatever you want, Max… whatever you command. I like that you’re old-fashioned, controlling…”
I lean over her again and kiss her forehead one last time as her eyes fight to stay open.
I have to hold my breath to calm myself before standing up, whispering, “Tomorrow, little girl.”