He puffed on his cigarette, inhaling and holding the smoke in his mouth and lungs. The Menthol flavor wasn’t his normal choice, but it would do for the night. He blew out, watching the way the rings formed into perfect ‘O’s’ and chuckled. Everything was exactly on track. The late afternoon sky was giving away to twilight, his favorite time of night. However, there was no time to enjoy. He had work to do.

The concept had literally fallen into his lap, but he had to admit, he was thrilled with the outcome, or what was about to occur. He’d been itching to expand, allow his wings to fly for some time. The damning opposition would soon be put behind him, providing needed power, influence and money. He deserved only the finest. He took another puff before flicking the bud, stubbing out the ember with his steel toed boot.

Folding his arms, he studied the unassuming apartment building then glanced up and down the street. Other than the few residents of the structure, there were few cars parading up and down the streets given the setting was far removed from the nightlife. This was a perfect setting.

Grinning, he remained where he was, watching the few people who entered the building. Patience wasn’t one of his virtues but on this night, everything needed to be in exact order, perfect timing required.

And so, he waited.

As the stars lifted in the sky, twinkling even with the glow from the city, he inhaled. The smell of the street was powerful, creating various scenarios in his mind. He was tingling all over, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was more than ready to take control.

As a car pulled down the street, his sense became heightened. He knew the car, the routine and had no doubt every step would be exactly the same. Rubbing his jaw, he pulled out another cigarette. One for the road.

The thought gave him a tingling feeling. He allowed the lighter to remain lit after taking a puff, then rubbed his finger over the flame. The slight burn fueled the angry man inside. Tilting his head, he noticed the light coming on in the fifth-floor window only moments later. If his research was correct, the light would go off in two minutes.

When he was down to twenty seconds, he counted backwards.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Click!

Perfect. Right on time. He finished his cigarette and moved away from his car, yanking the leather gloves from his pocket. This was the only protection needed. Very nonchalantly he walked across the street, punching in the code for the security entrance that he knew by heart. The hallway held a warm glow, the entrance accentuated by a series of lights positioned just under the crown molding. The owner of the building had spared almost no expense in renovating the brownstone.

He knew the area well, the real estate and the monies charged for the tiny apartments. The area was up and coming, yet the building remained mostly vacant. A product of the economy. Good for him.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he arrived on her floor and glanced around him. There was no one else living close. Which meant there was no one else to hear or interfere. The lock was simple, easily picked with the tools he’d brought, but then he’d already known that, having been inside earlier in the day.

He closed the door, the click almost silent, and waited. Listening. Just as he’d anticipated, the homeowner was following the daily protocol step by step, preparing for the second job. As he advanced, he could hear the running water coming from the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, the warm light over the bathroom sink highlighting his way.

Standing just outside the door, he slipped his hand inside his jacket, fingering the rope. This was crude, much more so than he usually selected, but for the location, needed. He pushed the door open a few inches, hesitating. There were no latent screams, no sounds of discomfort.

And so, he entered.

The shower curtain was laced with flowers, roses and daisies accentuating the cloth background. He couldn’t help but smile, the cheap covering a reminder of his past. After only a few seconds, he eased the rope from its hiding place and wound an end around his right hand. This portion of the evening’s festivities would be easy. The rest? Well, certainly creative.

He almost started whistling as he lifted his hand, fingering the curtain. Biting back a laugh, he stole a look at his reflection, admiring the new haircut. He looked nothing like the man in his usual pictures. This was good. Very good.

The moment he yanked back the curtain he advanced, jerking the girl by her neck, cutting off her air supply.

She kicked out, her arms and legs flailing, her mouth going slack after only a few seconds. Wrapping the rope around her neck, he twisted and dragged her out of the tub, leaving the water running. She continued to claw, her hands and fingers slapping above her head then her fingernails tearing into the rope.

He glanced down, admiring her beautiful body, the full breasts and hardened nipples. The admiration was something he couldn’t help but do, almost as if respecting the victim just moments before he ended their life. Her eyes bulged, but she was watching him, every step of the way.

Pulling her into the bedroom, he dumped her onto the bed and let go of his hold. She was going nowhere. Although she sputtered, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, the scream she offered was silent.

He peered down, tugging strands of wet hair from her face. She had to be perfect before he left. The moment he tugged the knife out of the sleeve, he could see she was beginning to understand. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re going to a better place.”

The knife almost glistened in the moonlight streaming through the open blinds and the moment he began to carve, creating the perfect masterpiece, a swath of pure peace settled into his system. This was magnificent.

* * *

“Remember…”

The gruff word was stated quickly before the phone call was ended. Zach glared at his phone, hissing before tossing it across the bed. How the fuck did the asshole get his phone number? The voice was disguised yet vile. He paced the room, moving back and forth as he thought about the call, as well as the distinct gift.

Who was haunting him and why? Jerking the phone up from the bed, he hit *69, only to hear the beeping sound as if the phone number didn’t exist. “Fuck!” This couldn’t be happening. Not now. He rubbed his eyes and held his breath. The freaks couldn’t win. When he was calm, he exhaled and thought about the deal with New Horizons.

He was angry, anxious and in need of some level of relief. The day had turned out to be shit. There was no avoiding the inevitable. Rush was going to proceed.

Granted, the fifty grand was a deterrent, a ridiculous decision but then again, wise given the nature of the transaction. Still, fighting the Apache Tribal Council wouldn’t earn them any decent press.

He glanced over at the box he’d positioned on the dresser. Tomorrow, he’d be forced to deal with the finger, but what did that mean exactly? Providing this to the police would only lead to additional questions, ones he wasn’t ready to answer. If this had something to do with his past, his entire world would collapse. He rubbed his eyes and grew antsy. He had to get the fuck out of here, if only for a little while.

His club of choice was off limits, at least for the time being, but he needed some level of peace, if only to chase away the demons. There was another club in town. He could risk a single night. His decision made, he changed into black jeans and shirt and grabbed his leather jacket.

Storming into the garage, he knew a ride on the motorcycle would help soothe the beast crawling to the surface. He had to forget, to let go. He had to find a quiet resolve.

As he zoomed out of the garage and down the driveway, he hunkered down over the bike, enjoying the way the wind whipped against his body. A night ride had always been his favorite, a moment of pure relaxation, even during the years of being so very alone. Tonight, was no different.

He headed for the city, for a club where only the owner knew him, and no one cared. He sped through the darkened streets, exceeding the speed limit as he maneuvered around various vehicles, flying free. When he reached his destination, he was forced to park on the street. He secured the helmet and stood watching the various people, one in particular catching his eye.

She was tall, her long dark hair flowing in the light wind. He could tell she remained apprehensive as she walked across the street, talking with her companion. He had no idea why he was drawn to her, but he followed, keeping his distance yet also making certain she remained within his sight.

There was an aura about her, a quiet yet impressive demeanor and he had no idea why, yet he felt as if he knew her. The thought was riveting, drawing him even closer. He wanted to see her, to find out why he thought her so alluring.

The moment he neared the club, he hissed. Crowded bodies were dancing, many of the patrons already intoxicated. This wasn’t a place he’d normally come to, especially given his needs, although he’d been here twice, allowed in as a guest to a separate area, one for the more discerning in the ways of kink, albeit milder BDSM than he was used to. At least this was entertainment for the night.

He lost her for several minutes then she popped into view, her long hair flowing behind her as she was led to the entrance. Excitement surged through him, his thoughts unfettered as he moved even closer. Inhaling, he caught a whiff of her perfume and for a brief second, closed his eyes, envisioning what he could do to her.

Zach wasn’t surprised at his thoughts, only the understanding they were drawn to each other for some unseen reason. He could almost hear what she was thinking, what she was craving, and his cock and balls were throbbing, longing for release. He would meet this girl. He would find out why his entire body was on fire.

And one day he would own her.

* * *

“Come to me. Now.” His tone was commanding, his eyes imploring and there was no way she could question.

When she took his hand, she realized her lower lip was quivering, allowing him to see her fear, anxiety building, pressing against the righteous girl in her mind. He could see through her, into her soul, knowing exactly what she needed.

What she craved.

As he pulled her close, nipping her earlobe, his whispered words were husky, sensual. “You belong to me and always have.”

Tingling, her nipples hardened, pushing against the tight dress. She was wet, her pussy clenching, longing for the touch of his hand, for his fingers to slide into her dripping cunt.

He seemed to sense her desire and eased his hand down from her breasts to her crotch, crawling the thin material up with his hand. “You do as I say, or I’ll spank you in front of everyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Cassandra moaned then slipped the back of her hand across her mouth. Thank God, the music was far too loud for Rebecca to have heard her guttural exclamation. She clenched her eyes shut, savoring the vision. Her fantasy man was the one from the night before. Only this time, there was no other woman in the room, just the two of them and he was claiming her.

She wished she’d been able to remember his face, to learn who he was, but her visions rarely allowed her the opportunity. Only in her paintings did she have an inkling of their identity and in truth, she never wanted to know, find out any further details. She had enough nightmares, too many fears about what she was seeing to explore the possibilities.

Her mind drifted to the painting from the night before. The disfigured man depicted was only a shadow of himself. She’d covered the piece, refusing to look at his face, but she knew whoever he was held violence deep inside, a rage that was consuming him. Shivering, she gripped her purse, clawing the smooth leather. Why was she forced to live this life? Contend with monsters and spirits, demons who screamed for retribution? Why couldn’t she rid herself of the horror show?

“Are you alive, girlfriend?” Rebecca teased.

“Absolutely.”

Shifting from foot to foot, she realized she was as wet as the girl in her dreams, even more so. She wanted nothing more than to shove her fingers into her cunt, pumping as she thought of him. Biting back another moan, she concentrated on the flashing neon lights as they entered what Rebecca called the party zone. The entire block catered to the nightlife scene, debauchery and booze, or so her friend liked to call the area of town.

“We’re here. Aren’t you glad we came?” Rebecca purred and squeezed her arm. “Don’t be apprehensive. I know this isn’t your style, but just wait until we get inside.”

“This is fine. I’m looking forward to the evening.” She glanced over her shoulder, certain she was being watched. Her nipples hardened as they neared the entrance. A man was close. She knew he was waiting, studying her every move.

Cassandra held her breath as tingling sensations, electric jolts of current rushed down the backs of her legs. Swallowing, she looked up and down the neon infused street, observing the various people moving down the sidewalk. This was an area she almost never came to, fashionable and considered one of the hottest series of clubs, bars and restaurants in town. Club Naughty had a reputation of being kinky, yet mild in comparison to others she’d heard about.

“What do you think?” Rebecca asked as she flanked Cassandra’s side.

“Interesting.”

“Right. Come on. You look fantastic.”

She looked down at her attire, frowning, given the fact she felt underdressed. The simple red dress did accentuate her curves, highlighting her full breasts and hips, but she was by no means dressed for a night of kink. Then again, she wasn’t ready to try anything out of her comfort zone just yet.

“No hesitation, girl. This is just going to be a fun evening. Now, if you meet a hot Dom, let him take you to his playroom by all means.”

“Not going to happen,” Cassandra said between clenched teeth. But she wanted. She needed.

Rebecca shook her head and grabbed Cassandra’s arm. “No pain. No gain. Oh, and there’s supposed to be pain.”

As they waited for the bouncer to allow them in, she thought about the spirit visit from the night before. There was usually a reason for the visions, a telling moment regarding the individual she could see. This time, she had no clue, no understanding of why she’d been dragged into the haunting moment.

But she knew it was bound to happen again.

The explosive lights flashing across the entire club caught her by surprise. The wild pulsing of music seemed to reverberate from the floor, creating an almost chaotic setting, an intense party scene. Shimmering colors exploded from the walls, cascading twinkling stars until they floated down and over the crowd. Blinking, Cassandra scanned the expansive area, her pulse increasing, her heart beating rapidly.

“Come on. This is for the general population. Where I’m taking you is special.” Rebecca grabbed her hand, leading her through the crowd of people.

The noise was intense. Loud and powerful. She cringed as she caught snippets of conversations, lewd comments and commanding statements. The words filled her mind, rippling to the point they began rolling in the back of her mind. Even the vivid hues of color created an intense setting in her mind, yanking at her synapsis, pulling her into a moment of heat and desire. Too much. This was far too much.

She tried to pull away from Rebecca, but the girl held onto her, dragging her further into the crowd.

“We’ll go…”

Rebecca’s words faded out and she tried to concentrate, to shut down some of the noise, the clutter in her mind increasing, pulling her into an abyss. She’d never experienced this kind of reaction being in a crowd, but tonight, the spirits remained awake, feeding off the energy, feasting off her very soul.

After showing their tickets, two massive body guards allowed them through a set of steel double doors and into a darkened hallway. The moment the doors were closed, the noise all but ceased to exist.

“I should have brought you in the back entrance,” Rebecca whispered as she squeezed Cassandra’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine.” She realized beads of perspiration were already trickling down the back of her neck.

“Good. What you’re going to see may shock you. I hope you had a chance to look at the book I gave you.”

What Rebecca didn’t know was that her past held a secret, one she refused to tell anyone. She had much more experience dealing with this kind of lifestyle than she wanted to admit. She’d crawled out of the gutter, scratching her way to the surface only three years before. Reborn as a new woman, she’d lived a vanilla lifestyle. She’d pushed away everything from her past, including her heritage. Now, she knew. You could never run away from who and what you are. Yes, she’d craved, hungering almost every night for a taste, just a mere taste. But she knew the black hole would suck her in again, creating a desire that could never be satisfied.

They passed by several rooms, some open to the public, others closed off and locked, privacy and anonymity no doubt included with the ‘by invitation only’ entrance. This was what her dreams were made of. Fantasies unfulfilled. Her mouth was dry as she passed by a room, the walls showered in crimson, the steel ‘X’ cross drawing her attention. She found herself drawn to the doorway and peered inside.

The group of people remained quiet as a well-dressed man brushed his hand down the naked back of a girl tied to the cross. Her wrists and ankles were manacled, held fast by slender casings of metal. She held her breath as the man took several steps back, moving toward a carved wooden case. Even from her vantage point, she could see the collection of tools, implements of the trade. Whips and tawses, quirts and paddles. All designed with punishment in mind.

When he’d made a selection, he held the implement in his hand, running his fingers down the wooden handle, allowing the tendrils of leather to dangle in the air. A single smile crested his face then he turned away, rearing back.

Crack!

“Oh!”

Cassandra realized the sound was issued from her mouth, sliding from the darkness deep within her. While several people looked in her direction, there was no admonishment, only an acknowledgment of her presence, a respectful understanding that she desired to be in the girl’s position, being whipped for every bad deed. For not following the rules.

Slap! Crack!

She gripped the doorjamb, panting as she continued to watch, her heart racing. This was exquisite, as close to perfection as she’d ever seen.

Pop! Slap!

With every hard slap, every controlled wielding of the man’s hand, she envisioned herself, naked and tied, her body exposed for all those to see, to savor.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Rebecca said as she crowded Cassandra’s space.

The trance was broken, the moment lost, and she sucked in her breath, brushing the beads of sweat from her upper lip. “This caught my eye.”

“Mmm… Delicious. Come. Let’s have a glass of wine. Then if you’re interested…” Rebecca allowed the words to linger, the sentence unfinished. She winked as she sauntered down the hallway.

Cassandra gave the room one last longing look before following, only hearing her high heels clipping on the marble floor. As she walked into a room, less gregarious in nature, she exhaled, still cognizant of her breathing.

Rebecca found her way to the bar, acknowledging the bartender who approached. “Red wine. Bloody and delicious red wine.”

The bartender merely tipped his head and retreated into the shadows.

“How did you learn about this place? Why did you receive an invitation?” Cassandra finally asked.

Rebecca tipped her head, her smile coy. “There are things you don’t know about me.”

She nodded. There was no need to ask any questions, no desire to learn more about her friend. They were both here for a purpose.

Finding a dominating man.

Could she actually let go, allow herself to share a night of adventure, a moment from the past? Her senses were overwhelmed, her mind formulating the possibilities. She wanted. She craved. She needed. Yet, to what end?

No! She refused to think this way, to fall into the same pattern. She was in control.

After the wine arrived, Cassandra allowed herself to venture outside of the room. Her hunger had awakened, creating a longing that left her anxious. When she entered the room at the end of the hall, she exhaled, the sound rattled. There were several women, all shackled but in various ways. She could smell the hint of fear, could see the look of apprehension in their eyes.

Gripping the glass, she took a sip then another, trying to abate her nerves. She concentrated on a purple wand, the arcing as the implement was brought near the girl’s skin a powerful draw. She walked inside, step by step.

Then she heard his voice.

“You hunger for something of this nature?”

He stood behind her and the moment she inhaled, the scent of him filled her nostrils, creating a series of goose bumps along the back of her arms and neck. His cologne was exotic, yet musky. “I do.” The words were said easily, an admittance that surprised the girl inside.

The mystery man remained quiet, no portion of him touching, yet he remained close, breathing a swath of hot air across her neck and naked shoulders. “For those who crave, the desire is overpowering.”

“Yes.”

“For those who hunger, the joy in release is unrelenting.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her lower lip quivering. The huskiness of his voice, the way he issued the simple statements drew her into a vacuum. She could no longer feel the glass in her hand or hear anything but the sound of his voice. She didn’t blink for fear he’d leave, disappearing into the crowd.

“For those who submit, giving control to another, the shared intimacy is incredible. There is no tonight, no tomorrow, only the moment in time, allowing utter pleasure mixed with writhing pain.”

“Yes… sir.” Cassandra closed her eyes as her hand clenched the glass, her fingers going numb.

Using just a single finger, he slid the tip down the length of her neck to her shoulder, very slowly tracing a circle over and over again.

The touch was all consuming, creating a series of shivers. She wanted nothing more than to turn around, to see his face, but she knew he required her to obey, to follow his lead, his every direction. This was a stranger, a man she didn’t know, yet in her mind, this was exactly what she wanted. A perfect moment of being able to lose herself, letting go of the darkness furrowing so deep inside.

He brushed the tip all the way down her arm then back up, exhaling. “You’ll come to me. You’ll share your joy, your gift of submission when you’re ready.”

The words lingered as if floating all around her. When she no longer felt his presence or his touch, she finally turned. There was no one behind her, no man waiting in the shadows. Had she been imagining it? Dreaming of the perfect man? She blew out a long breath and shook her head. Maybe she was losing her mind after all.

Cassandra gripped the wine glass and moved to the door. She was no longer comfortable here. A slight noise drew her attention just before she reached the door. He was there, waiting for her. She shook her head and walked closer, seeing his captive smile. “You know how to make your presence known.”

He chuckled and lifted his glass. “I should apologize. I’m not usually so dramatic, but seeing you standing there, the way you were studying the various couples, I must admit, I couldn’t resist.”

She studied his eyes. They were gorgeous in their darkness and they matched his almost perfectly chiseled face, long neck and broad shoulders. He stood several inches taller than her, even in her stilettos. His smile was engaging, dimples creating an almost mischievous look. She held out her hand. “Cassandra.” Even as enigmatic as he was, she refused to give her last name.

“Zachary. My friends call me Zach.”

The moment they touched, electric jolts created a wave of heat rushing up from her pussy to her face. She felt lightheaded and was taken aback, sucking in her breath as the hold continued. For a few seconds, she was able to see images, flashes of his life, his world and the connection was intense, drawing her into his power. It was as if she knew him, had always known the sultry man. But why?

When he let her go, his eyebrows raised, the smile remaining. “And what are you looking for, Cassandra?”

The question was pointed, directed in a way as if he already knew the answer. “Salvation.”

His eyes lit up, creating an aura around him. “We understand each other. Come. Allow me to show you what I crave. That is, if you dare to trust.”

Trust. The word was almost foreign to her. She studied his eyes, the quiet gentleness fueled by the same kind of blatant yearnings blanketing her system. “Yes, I do.”

He nodded toward the door, waiting until she walked away first, then planting his hand on the small of her back.

The gesture was simple yet very controlling, a reminder that he was in charge, no matter if in limited form. She held her breath as he led her to another room, one with a closed door. When he turned the knob, guiding her inside, she exhaled, every nerve standing on end. The area was another room designed for spanking. Wooden benches of various types were placed in several locations, all but one in use. “Amazing.”

“You approve,” Zach half whispered as he allowed his hand to slide to her hip, his grip tightening.

“Very much so.”

“Tell me. Have you been spanked before, disciplined for your infractions?”

The deep hush of his voice filled her with tingles. Her nipples remained hard, jutting against the thin material of the dress. “Yes, but not in so long.”

“Mmm… Fascinating. Watch as the various Dom’s wield their desired implement, the techniques they use.” He pushed her forward several feet.

She could feel his body heat and inhaled his cologne, the rich scent, full of spices, was invigorating. Leaning back, she shuddered. There was something so sensuous about him. “Do you spank?”

He chuckled. “Only for select women. I don’t play, well, usually. Watch. Enjoy.”

Cassandra nodded as she turned her attention to a young blonde, her checkered skirt and white shirt creating a story. The man holding the belt was older, his hand practiced.

Crack! Slap!

The girl squealed, her feet kicking against the bench.

Pop! Whap!

“Can you imagine what she’s thinking, what she knows is going to happen?’ Zach asked, keeping the tone of his voice even.

“That she knows she’s been a very bad girl.”

“Very good.”

Smack! Pop!

“And tell me, sweet Cassandra, is this something you crave? Would you like a taste of my belt, a paddle or even a whip perhaps?”

She hadn’t realized she was nodding until he took her glass of wine, setting both down on a nearby table. When he took her by the hand, she locked eyes with his. Mesmerized, she didn’t utter a word as he led her to the old-fashioned bench. He didn’t try and undress her, merely helped her over, securing her wrists and ankles. What was she doing? She didn’t know this man. She had no idea what he was capable of. Another shiver oozed down her spine but the moment he brushed the tips of his fingers up the back of one leg then down the other, she relaxed.

She could see Zach as he sauntered to a table, selecting the implement for the night. When he returned, he trailed the flogger across her shoulder then down her back.

“Merely a taste. Nothing more.” He eased her dress up to her waist.

Wearing only a thong she gulped air and clenched her fists. This was insane. What would Rebecca say? She was safe, and this was very much what she’d been craving.

Crack!

“Oh!” She reared up, pain coursing through her. She wanted to see him, his expression and his eyes.

Pop! Crack!

“How does it feel?” he asked as he moved closer to her face, pulling the strands of hair back and rubbing his thumb across her cheek.

“Amazing.” Her voice was rattled but she had a conviction, different from before, a longing that surged through her.

“Good.”

She concentrated on the sound of his footsteps, his boots as they moved back in place.

Slap! Crack!

“Aahhh…” The long breath escaped her, bliss swimming into every cell, her heart beating rapidly.

Pop! Slap!

He hesitated for a few seconds then issued several more.

Smack! Pop!

Clenching her eyes, she fell into a beautiful and very peaceful moment. She became aware he was unshackling her bindings, helping her to her feet. As he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest, she dropped her head, panting.

“Thank you, beautiful lady. Sweet Cassandra. I enjoyed our meeting.”

When he let her go, she brushed her hands through her hair, controlling her breathing before turning around.

And when she did, her disciplinarian, the man who would haunt her dreams had disappeared.