She’s a victim of her family’s treacherous life.  

When a wealthy college student is given a gift by her father, one requiring a hefty price, she seeks solace in the mountains…. until a horrific snowstorm interferes, thrusting her into the arms of a dangerous man who will require her surrender. 

He ran away from his life and those who considered him a monster, determined to live alone. Determined to erase the pain. Then he’s forced to save her life. Is there such a thing as a second chance? 

Publisher’s Note: This steamy contemporary romance contains elements of action, adventure, sensual scenes, and power exchange. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase. 

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Excerpt

 

Chapter One

 

Razer 

 

I am the darkness, the kind of man the majority fear. 

I am a monster, my life surrounded by carriers of my disease. 

I am the devil who will break you. 

I am also the one you crave. 

 

I’ve always been alone. Yeah, there were people once, and a hell of a lot of them. They wanted something from me. That was the key. They always wanted. I was the man in charge, the one who could make or break them. Their careers. Their lives. In turn, I had everything I ever desired. Women. Money. Clout. Shit, I was filthy rich. Sure, I loved lording my wealth over almost everyone I knew.  

Then I lost everything that mattered to me.  

One. Single. Night.  

One ridiculous and uncalculated decision and my life turned to shit. I was careless with my trust and all because of a woman. The ugly fact will haunt me forever, but I burned too many bridges to be able to salvage any aspect of my former self. Too bad for them, for the fuckers who put me here. Revenge will be sweet. For now? I’m gathering my strength, biding my time so they say.  

Many would say I ran away. Perhaps I did. I no longer cared what anyone else thought and I still don’t. No sense in worrying about things I couldn’t change. Snickering, I walked around the corner, heading for a round of entertainment for the evening. Taking another long drag, I held the smoke as I studied the brick façade of the various buildings lining the snow slickened street. The area was quaint, far too much so for my taste, but functional, even allowing for various levels of kink. I blew out, creating smoke ringlets before taking another puff. 

I have to admit, the cigarette tasted damn good. I’d given up the habit over a year before, the very day my life plummeted into Hell. But today? I craved the taste, nasty and bitter. Inhaling, I watched the various women as they entered the club. They are all the same. In my mind, they are two-bit whores who feed off men like piranhas, eating the flesh, feasting on their blood, if only in the methods of money and sex. Disgusting.  

But I was hungry and there were few places where questions were never asked, heads always turning the other way. I learned where to go the first week I stepped foot in the wretched area. I had to be protected if only from myself and the anger, the rage living inside, burrowing its way into my soul. 

But my rage remained.  

The frigid breeze blew against my skin and usually the cold was invigorating. Tonight, I felt nothing. My goal was simple. To find a woman and to fuck her. There was no need for romance. These kinds of women preferred dominating men, forceful to the point some would say the experience was rape. For the girls entering the darkened club, they were ready, eager to be taken. 

Exactly what I needed. 

After tossing the cigarette, I crossed the street, taking long strides. Even the majority of the businesses were closed. It was late, and the vacationers were all nestled snug in their beds, unaware such carnal activities were going on just a few miles away from their precious resort. The locals simply turned the other way, refusing to acknowledge the kind of sick kink occurring behind the massive steel door. I liked the name. It suited the establishment perfectly. The Torture Chamber. I couldn’t help but laugh.  

The entrance was unmarked, except for a single plaque nailed onto the graphite steel door. For some reason, my mind reverted to a cross, a naked and bloodied man. Maybe my guilt was creeping in again. I didn’t hesitate after swinging it open, simply walking past the bouncers. They recognized who I was, if by no other means than reputation. I didn’t know their names and they knew better than to ask mine, but they’d heard of me. The music was loud, blaring and as my eyes swept the neon infused establishment, I could sense the stares, and not only from the women. Men knew to be afraid and so they keep their distance. But the women… Oh, yes, the women certainly didn’t seem to mind being used by a hulking man who said very little. 

The bar was jam packed, the liquor flowing, but I wasn’t here for the booze. I have plenty back at the cabin. I also don’t need to push my way through the heated bodies. They simply moved out of my way. Within seconds, I’d found the one I could tolerate for the night and closed the distance. She had violet eyes, the kind no doubt most men would sink into. They were far too vibrant, even in the intense lighting. She wore her clothes like a costume, hiding the woman behind the cloak, or some would say a mask. Not that I cared. Everything was fake these days. 

“My, aren’t you something to look at?” she purred and fanned her face. “What do you think, ladies?” 

“I don’t think you can handle him, Raven,” the blonde cooed, her look almost condescending. 

Raven shook her head, winking at the others. “I’m not certain he can handle me.” 

I glanced at the other two women, both attempting to look much younger than they actually were. In their skin-tight dresses and four-inch heels, garish make-up and exuding salacious expressions like bitches in heat, they were ready for anything; however, they weren’t my type. My cock wasn’t throbbing, nor would it be until I was ready for some relief. I’d learned control several years before. “Do you crave pain?” 

The question seemed to take her aback. Maybe the other men in the room had no balls. 

“Pain?” Raven’s slight smile brightened. “I’m not entirely certain what you mean by pain.” 

I could see her hardened nipples through the thin material. The girl called Raven wasn’t fooling anyone with her pretense. She was a true pain whore.  

“Look at his eyes. Wow. You are one dark and dangerous man,” the blonde murmured, fanning her face. 

“You have no idea.” The answer was succinct as well as the truth, and I could see the words only fueled Raven. “I need your answer.” 

Raven’s lower lip quivered as she studied me. I’d never noticed the way women could have the innate ability to size up a man until now, but she managed to catch a glimpse of an attribute she craved.  

Power. 

“You go, girl,” the blonde whispered, swiveling her hips. 

“I’ll do anything you ask,” Raven said under her breath, almost daring to come closer. 

“Then come with me.” There were stalls inside the building, makeshift rooms allowing for carnal activities. While they might have been pristine once, the areas were now little more than tawdry reminders that kink would never be respected. However, they were useful for what I considered the business at hand. This was nothing more than a transaction, a power exchange entered into by two consenting adults. There were rules, as with every profession, but very few were followed in any manner and no one checked shit.  

I didn’t take her hand, nor did I offer any method of conversation. She would soon learn that I cared only about two things. Sex and whipping. There are darker aspects of BDSM that I’d enjoyed before, even sharing certain experiences with friends, men who had no idea what they were getting involved in. Playboys simply taking what was entitled to them. What a crock of bullshit. That had been a hell of a long time ago. I was no longer into babysitting of any kind.  

This was the single reason I came to this wretched place.  

The pre-ordered stall was at the end of the hall. A quick flick of a switch highlighted the once vivid space. The walls were covered in thick fabric, suppressing noise both inside as well as privacy for those in other rooms. This particular stall held a single apparatus, a wooden piece especially designed for whipping and fucking. I shot a single look at the girl before dropping my keys. Her expression allowed a smile to curl on my lip. 

She wasn’t certain of her place or her requirements. Her demeanor had changed, no longer the fiery creature. Even her lower lip quivered, giving her apprehension away.  

What did I care? She’d agreed to a session. She’d agreed to my demands. She’d agreed to accept whatever level of anguish I doled out. “Undress.” 

“What?” Her voice was shallow, weak in comparison and she kept her arms close to her body. She was standing just inside the doorway, her eyes blinking as if trying to rationalize what she’d accepted as part of the implied contract. 

“You have one chance to back out of our arrangement. One.” This was more than I usually gave, but I didn’t need any trouble with the owners or with the authorities. Not tonight. 

“No. Fine. This is good,” she murmured, flashing me another one of her ‘come hither’ smiles. 

“Then if I have to ask you again, you will pay. Undress.” 

Raven swallowed and nodded, her reaction like a doll after the string has been pulled.  

I remained in the shadows, contemplating what I wanted. What I needed. Her actions were stilted as she attempted to remove her dress. I should feel disgusted with myself, sickened by the hungers, but I long ago accepted the man I’d become. I wanted to think of her as beautiful, a fragile creature meant to savor, enjoy over a period of time. But I refused to lie to myself, or anyone else for that matter. My past jaded experiences were an excellent teacher. There was no concept of trust, especially for myself. Take or be taken. I could only see her skin, her sex. No emotions. No connections. No relationships. The mantra had worked well enough up until now.  

When she was finally naked, she clenched her fists and held her arms by her sides, a possible sign of respect. However, her look of defiance had returned, the kind of confidence that deserved to be broken. I certainly didn’t give a shit about her wants, but I was a keen observer, the gift allowing me to find, as well as use, everyone’s Achilles heel. The skill had been important during various business conquests, building a corporation I should have been proud of. I snickered at the thought. Secrets and lies.  

Now? The skill was reduced to figuring out the best method to flog and feast. I remained quiet, studying her reaction given she was no longer the center of attention in a room full of men.  

Unused to the quiet, she began to fidget, wrapping her manicured finger around her locks of hair, jutting out her chin every few seconds as if she was concentrating on music inside her head. Music to keep her safe. Protected. She twisted and turned, swaying her hips, undulating her breasts. 

There was no protection from a man like me.  

The floor show was fascinating, but I soon grew bored. Taking long strides, I advanced toward her. Even the sound of my approach was muffled. Her nipples were a rosy pink, soft and inviting like the velvet of a rose petal. Her cunt was shaved, bald and so youthful. I wanted nothing more than to shove my cock into her pussy, thrusting as she screamed. 

Raven noticed instantly and took a step back, biting her lower lip, her finger continuing to twirl. “What do you want?” 

“Don’t talk. Not a word.” 

She coughed, as if longing to carry on a conversation, but her look held true anxiety. 

Women like this had no real understanding of what was required. They probably never would. They were looking for an out to a terrible relationship or bored with their everyday life. They’d read too many books, learning just enough about kink to enhance their own desires. But she was here. Her decision. 

One I would take advantage of. 

After walking around her shaking form in a complete circle, I was satisfied. I gripped her jaw, turning her head right then left. She was no longer afraid, merely curious as to what I was looking for. After spreading my fingers, I dragged my hand down from her neck to her chest, squeezing first one then the other breast. The flesh melded into my hand, rolling between my fingers. Her oversized breasts were very real. Her nipples were hard and the moment I pinched and twisted her tender flesh, she moaned in a dramatic fashion, as if expecting to issue sound bites. The look I gave shut her down, forcing her glistening irises to darken in color. Fear of the unknown was a stimulating aphrodisiac.  

Her mouth slipped into a pouting position, the heavy lip gloss accentuating the almost perfect ‘O’. I could imagine her wide mouth sucking my throbbing cock. The ache in my groin continued until my dick was pushing hard against my dense jeans. This wasn’t like me, at least not during the whipping stage, but I’d waited too long for a session. I craved inflicting pain, requiring a woman to surrender in every manner. Tonight, was no exception. 

“Bend over. Spread your ass cheeks.” 

Raven obeyed without question, bending over at the waist and widening her legs. She bobbled, her body swaying, a product of one too many fruity drinks, but managed to pull apart her ass cheeks.  

Using my index finger, I slid the tip down from the base of her spine along the crack of her ass to her puckered hole. The scent of her was thick with desire, creating a wave of hunger furrowing into my belly as her fragrance wafted into my nostrils. Even the wetness of her cunt juice created stickiness on both inner thighs.  

Her body was shaking, and I heard soft whimpers as I shoved two fingers into her pussy, thrusting hard and fast. Her pussy lips clenched around the invasion, creating an exaggerated sucking noise. Yes, I had to admit, the warmth of her wet cunt was another draw. For some reason I started to count. One. Two. Three. Every hard jab was followed by a number. The realization was ridiculous. Pulling out, I immediately plunged my wet fingers into her asshole, flexing them open as I drove deep inside.  

“Oh!” Her single cry was followed by a shifting of her body. Even her knees began to buckle. This girl had never had a hard ass fucking. 

Well, today is your lucky day, sunshine. 

“Move to the wooden horse.” 

Raven hesitated, her mouth going slack. 

Smack! Slap! 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Obey and be quiet.” 

The two hard strikes against her naked ass were a simple reminder. Next time, I’d make certain the woman I selected was more experienced. Although, there was something to be said for training a woman. You would think a man of my nature didn’t have time to consider an ingénue, but in my case, time is all I really had. Alone. Being alone had its perks, but I’d learned that I desired a certain level of companionship.  

Raven scampered toward the well-worn piece of wood, thrusting her body over the smooth surface. She darted a glance in my direction, her expression pensive as fuck.  

Well, hell, this wasn’t as much fun as I’d intended the evening to be. Still, my cock remained in need, so this half hour bought and paid for with several crisp hundred dollars bills would continue. 

I only secured her wrists, making certain the two inch strip of leather was buckled, a chain nestled in between. She was going nowhere unless I allowed it. The thought, as always, allowed me to fall into what I called ‘the zone’. Submissives would call the complex set of emotions subspace, a condition where the mind was at peace, even floating. Dominating a woman offered no sense of peace for me, only an influx of raw euphoria. I could tell she was struggling to watch what I would select as an implement of choice as I walked toward the rather beaten up metal cabinet. I’d seen better quality, less dented furniture in the backs of auto body repair shops in the seedier sections of New Jersey. Yeah, I was smiling at that point. A trashy place for a sadistic act.  

I had to admit, I was surprised at the number and quality of implements hanging inside. Someone knew their whips and canes, having purchased new tools. Even the scent of unblemished leather was intoxicating. If only I had this kind of collection. My thoughts were yanked back to the past, to the playroom I cherished, the expensive tools I’d amassed. Everything I owned I’d hand selected, scouring through internet sites, frequenting exotic galleries catering to various fetishes. Karma must indeed be a woman because the very first time I had the opportunity to use a single implement, all hell had broken loose.  

I fingered the selection of whips before deciding on an impressive looking quirt. I’d seen various styles but this one had the mark of an actual horse whip. The thought alone was enough to make my mouth water. Surprises could be found everywhere. My decision made, I walked toward the lovely Raven, realizing for the first time what she must think of me. Long hair. Long beard. Unkempt look. This was my mask and one I wore like a badge of honor. I was the mystery man on top of the mountain, the kind of man nightmares were created from. 

My hand was shaking, adrenaline fighting with whatever control I had left, which was slipping away. The moment I was in position, I raised my arm, snapping my wrist. 

Crack! 

The single hard strike sliced across both ass cheeks, a mark forming almost immediately. My heart was racing as desire continued to build. 

“Oh!” she yelped as she jerked up, rattling the chain attaching the manacles.  

Pop! Slap! 

Electric jolts coursed through every cell in my body. I was suddenly alive, energized by the actions. 

Smack! Crack! 

“Oh. Oh!” 

Even the sounds of her cries were like music to my ears.  

Whack! Slap! 

“You’re doing very well,” I muttered for no particular reason. Rubbing her ass cheeks, the way she was marked would remain for only a few days. The practice had changed my technique, my stamina. 

Pop! Smack! 

I moved into a perfect rhythm. Two strikes then wait. Two more cracks then wait. Every muscle was tense, my calves almost to the cramping point. Beads of sweat were trickling down both sides of my face and no matter how furiously I wiped them away, they continued to fall.  

Crack! Whack! 

“Oh, shit!” Raven wiggled, her moans louder. 

“Two more.”  

“Damn. Damn. Hurts like a motherfucker.” 

Something snapped in my mind, obliterating the rush, the core of energy. The excitement was gone at this point. I required her absolute submission. Raven wasn’t the kind of woman who would ever understand a dominant’s rules. Spots formed in front of my eyes as the frustration grew, creating a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. I refused to allow the anger to surface. This woman wasn’t to blame. No. I could maintain. I would stay calm. 

Pop! Crack! 

I brushed my hand through my hair, realizing my entire left arm was shaking. The whipping did nothing for me. I would need more and that wasn’t going to happen. Not with this woman. After dropping the implement, I unfastened my belt and pants, unzipping, yet my thoughts were all over the place. I was usually able to concentrate but this entire experience was leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth. Was it possible I’d grown out of the need? The question was one to ponder over a tall glass of bourbon. Even my cock was barely throbbing, only mildly excited about fucking the girl.  

I’d never had problems with getting hard, although every experience to date had been after spanking or whipping whatever girl was the choice for the evening. Going as far back as I could remember, my dominant, or, what most would say, sadistic requirements were prevalent. I’d learned everything I knew from my father. He was the most sadistic man I’d ever met. Powerful and ruthless, he tore apart his opponents without care or a second thought. Zachary Reynolds had bought into his own bullshit, even bringing me into the fold, coercing me into running the family operation. However, there’d been hidden caveats, ones I hadn’t learned until it had been too late. And I used to hate him. Now? Perhaps I’d begun to admire the man for all his accomplishments and his lack of caring. The thought alone was enough to keep my dick limp. 

Raven moaned again, only this time the sound was much more the whimpers of a woman anticipating what was to come.  

If only my cock would agree. I was no stranger to the five knuckle shuffle, but right now, I was full of disgust toward my own body. You’re failing me, you worthless fuck. I sighed and closed my eyes, thinking about the perfect girl in my mind. She was blonde and lithe, sweet and even innocent. Sadly, she could never survive my desires. I wrapped my hand around my cock, pumping at the base, trying to excite the flaccid flesh. Wasn’t this a crock of shit? 

“Are you there?” she asked, twisting her head as if trying to find me. 

Concentrate. Concentrate. More sweat was rolling down my back, my forehead, running into my eyes. The burning sensation was another reminder of the man I would never be. Breathing out, I continued pumping, digging my fingers into my shaft. A slight twitch gave me a smile.  

Then there was nothing but a limp dick. Not a damn thing else. Even my cock was failing me.  

“Fuck me!” she insisted. 

Fuck her. The exasperation in her voice was matched by my increasing level of frustration. I twisted and rolled my hand until the friction became painful and still nothing. This was more than ridiculous but telling.  

I wasn’t a man any longer, just the asshole they all made me out to be. 

Giving up wasn’t my style but tonight wasn’t going to change. Shoving my cock into my pants and zipping, I merely unbuckled the straps keeping her my prisoner, then walked away.  

“What’s wrong?” 

Her voice was shrill and the moment I stormed out the door, I realized I would never come to this place again. Heading through the crowd and out the front door added fuel to the agonizing fire, given everyone was following me with their eyes. And I could swear they were laughing. They knew. 

I’m nothing but a monster.