Page 4 of Zafira

For Bogdan, it offered a brief yet precious escape from the hellish recollections that clung to him daily like ghosts hungry for his anguish. A reprieve from remembering that he had wasted his entire life loving a woman who, in the end, proved she never loved him.

Tonight, he couldn’t reach that much-needed space, no matter how hard he tried. His mind inevitably drifted back to that fateful day one year ago when he had confronted the only woman who he had loved his entire adult life, Zafira Guzun—a decision that haunted his dreams to this day. His chest tightened as he recalled how foolishly he had clung to the slender hope that she still harbored some residual affection for him. He had laid his soul bare, only to have her cruelly reject him with callous indifference.

“Vanya is wrong. You just can’t move on, can you? All these years...” He shook his head, and for the first time since he’d met her, he allowed a sadness to crawl over his face. “I wasted thirty years of my life hoping, missing out on companionship, love, having children because I was waiting... such a fucking waste.”

“Stop talking in riddles, Rusu. Say what you came to say, then leave. I have things to do, and you’re wasting my time... No! Let me go! What are you doing?”

Zafira gasped for breath as suddenly, he was in front of her with one of his huge paws curled around her throat as he pushed her back against the windowpane. Tension etched every line of his powerful frame as his hold tightened as he forced her onto her toes.

“Bogdan, stop,” she choked out, tears forming in her eyes. It was the fear that was painted over her face that doused his anger. His gaze softened, although his hold didn’t. With his thumb, he traced the fullness of her bottom lip as a sadness engulfed him when the truth finally hit home.

“So beautiful... and yet so cold.”

“B-Bogdan... please.”

“I’m done, Zafira. We end this now, one way or another.”

“End what?” she croaked, desperately clawing at his hand.

Disappointment was chiseled over his face at her response. A gulf of misunderstanding yawned wide between them.

“You just can’t admit how you...” He sighed. “So be it. I’m done defending myself, and I’m done being your emotional punching bag. You want me out of your life, Zafira? Then so be it... I’m gone.”

With a muffled oath and a final sweep of a rough fingertip over her lip, he released her and walked out with long, measured steps.

“No, Master Slayer! Please don’t find another sub. I can take it. I swear I can.” The pleading wail of the submissive yanked him back to the present.

Bogdan shifted restlessly as he fisted his hands until his knuckles turned white. His jaw was tight as he forced the surging emotions back behind the steel wall he had erected around his heart. He had no choice since, no matter how much time had passed, the searing pain remained as raw and fresh as an open wound.

God! I have been such a fool. He berated himself once more for wasting his entire life loving someone who never reciprocated.

Zafira hadn’t called out to stop him when he had left. Not a whimper, a whisper... no sound at all. She had watched him walk out of her life and accepted it.

That—more than the empty, lonely months since or the wasted years spent loving her—hurt most of all.

The electric light sconces cast dancing shadows across the room but brought no warmth to the cold emptiness devouring Bogdan from within. He yearned for the sweet oblivion of Dom space, to lose himself in an intimate scene where he was desired and in control. But the bitter memories of Zafira’s betrayal refused to loosen their vice-like grip on his mind, keeping his emotions churning like a volcano ready to erupt.

Enough! I’ve had enough. It’s time to move on, forget about her, and find another to fill my heart.

The thought came from nowhere, but he latched onto it like a starving leech. He needed to make a change quickly before the last of the little humanity he had left disappeared. He longed to feel human and filled with warmth from within again.

“I changed my mind.” The growl emitting from his chest, albeit gruff like the beast he was known as in the hallowed hallways of the club, was flat and emotionless. With quick, economic movements, he untied the trembling sub and picked her up. “Let’s go fuck.”

Master Slayer was known by the submissives as a Dom who didn’t play games. He spoke his mind and took what he was after, but only from those willing to play at his level. At times, with his piercing glare and cocksure attitude, some called him rude and obnoxious, but since his sexual exploits were on every woman’s lips who were regulars at the club, no one cared. As long as they got to be one of the lucky ones, ending up with him in the private rooms upstairs.

Casey, the submissive, scrambled back on the bed as he flung her down. His one eyebrow crawled upward in a mocking salute as he unfastened his belt with slow, deliberate intent.

“Changed your mind, subbie?”

“No. It’s just... you seem angry, Master Slayer. Don’t get me wrong, I love rough sex as much as the next one, but you look ready to rip me to shreds with your bare hands.”

Bogdan looked down at his hands, realizing they were curled into vicious-looking claws. No wonder the sub was having second thoughts. He might have allowed the sadist in him free rein the past year, but he always made a point of giving as much pleasure as pain. Yes, he fucked rough, but only if the sub was up for it, and he was assured she achieved a level of euphoria that surpassed any pain she might experience should he lose control. Not that he had to date, but like with everything in life, unforeseen shit happened.

Relaxing his muscles, he continued to undress. His eyes followed the valleys of her full figure. She was a favorite with the sadists at the club since she knew how to tease and unlock the beasts inside them without screaming and crying when the devil was unleashed—exactly what he needed tonight. He offered her a brief smile.

“You can relax, subbie. The sadist has gone to sleep... for now.” Naked, he kneeled on the bed, untouched by the way her eyes hungrily devoured his solid, muscled frame. Big, bulky, and strong, he represented a human beast, which was why he was called Master Slayer at the club—except no one here knew about his past, they had no idea how appropriate the name was to him as a man. “Get on all fours with your ass in the air. Keep your head down at all times. I suggest you grab hold of the slats of the headboard. Otherwise, I might drive you through the wall.”

Bogdan never had sex in the missionary position. He didn’t want to see the woman’s face he was fucking. All he needed was the warmth of a hot pussy clamping around his cock as he drove himself to release. Yes, it sounded heartless, but it was exactly how he had been able to survive all these years—having sex with other women while he remembered the few times he had the privilege of being with the one he loved. It was a poor substitute but the only way he could cope.

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