Bound to Love

 

Author: NA33

Fandom: Profiler

Pairing(s): Sam/Jack

Warnings: bondage, spanking

Spoilers: none

Summary: During early Season 3, believing Lucas is Jack, Samantha can move on with her life but finds it isn't all she expected. Always shadowing her, Jack persuades Samantha to look into the mirror and explore her darker side as he tries to remold her psyche...

 

Nominated Category:

Most Promising Newcomer

Best Spanking Scene – Het

Best Use of Toys - Other

Best First Time - Het

Most Intense Scene - Other

Best Romance - Het

&

Most Diabetic Coma Inducing

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Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Samantha sighed as she followed the real estate agent through the house. It was the third one that day and the twelfth that week. With Donald Lucas in jail there was no reason why she shouldn't find a real home for her and Chloe. But somehow, as Sam looked at house after house, none of them felt right. For years she'd been hiding from her stalker and now that he'd been captured; she should be racing to embrace her new freedom Instead, Samantha found her freedom stifling and hollow.

 

Forcing herself to look interested, Samantha finished the tour and thanked the real estate agent. Getting in her car, she drove away from Buckhead and headed back towards Atlanta. The affluent suburb was filled with large houses that were perfect for families; but none of them from the sprawling Victorians and charming cape cods to the newly constructed houses appealed to her. Every time Sam looked at houses in the neighborhood she felt almost as if she was being strangled. Driving into Atlanta, she decided to wait a while longer before returning to work.

 

Continuing aimlessly through Atlanta, she let her gaze wander. She should probably return to the VCTF, she thought. But they would hardly miss her. Since Lucas was arrested, Bailey and the team paid little attention to her absences. Once she thought of herself as the heart of the VCTF. Now Samantha wasn't so sure. It was as if when the mystery of Jack was solved, Sam had ceased to be. The thought was a disconcerting one.

 

Jack. Jack who had catapulted her to stardom in the FBI. Jack who had governed every moment of her life and those around her. For so long it had been all about Jack. Now Jack was revealed to be nothing more than a garden variety sociopath and a dull one at that. Donald Lucas was utterly ordinary, completely disappointing, and made Samantha feel like something in her world simply wasn't right. Being the object of desire for Lucas wasn't as exciting as it had seemed when he was cloaked in the mystery of Jack. It felt as colorless and dull as he was.

 

Samantha pulled her car into the mall parking lot and got out. Maybe buying something would make her feel better, if only for the moment. Walking into the mall, Sam wandered and window shopped. Pausing in front of Hot Topic, a shiny black dress brought forth the unwelcome thought of Sharon Lesher. Sharon had been little more than a trashy copy of herself, but what had kept her loyal to Lucas? Samantha wondered. Donald Lucas didn't seem the sort to engender such passion, especially in someone like Sharon. As she reminisced, Lucas seemed to fade from her mind and the dark and seductive quality Jack had before unmasking rose up in her mind.

 

Irresistibly, Samantha found herself drawn into the store. The sales clerk, a teenager sporting an eyebrow piercing, gave her an odd look as she took in Sam's conservative suit. After several minutes, the salesgirl asked, "Are you looking for something for your daughter? If you aren't sure what she'd like, we have gift cards."

 

"No, thank you," Samantha replied. Her face flushing slightly as she requested. "Do you have the dress in the window in a size 6?"

 

Trying to conceal her surprise, the salesgirl lead Sam to the dress and then back to the fitting room. Left alone in the fitting room, Samantha felt a strange sense of exhilaration as she shed her suit and slid the slick black PVC dress over her body. As she fastened it in the back, she took in her reflection in the mirror. For the first time since Donald Lucas had been revealed as Jack and arrested, Samantha's reflection felt real, she felt whole again. It was as if Jack's world with it's sinful decadence and sensuality that Samantha had always suspected it contained had been brought back to life in the garment which caressed her flesh. Lucas was behind bars and the threat of Jack was now gone. Would it be so awful to indulge in an illusion of it for a few minutes?

 

Wearing the dress out of the fitting room, she found the salesgirl and had her find stockings and shoes to match. Returning to the fitting room, Samantha paused at a display of underwear and selected a black thong with a rhinestone skull and crossbones on it. Then she stared at her reflection until there was a knock at the door and the items she requested were handed to her by the salesgirl.

 

Pulling up her skirt, Samantha took off her conservative panties, before pulling on the thong. Next she slid the thigh highs on. Lastly she slid her feet into the stiletto heels. The outfit was like nothing she'd ever worn. Certainly it would have shocked her co-workers she mused with wicked delight.

 

Gathering up her discarded clothing, Samantha walked out to the register. Paying for the outfit, she allowed the salesgirl to put her old clothes in a bag and bought a bright red lipstick and black eyeliner that were in a cosmetic display on the counter. Pausing to apply them before carrying her bag from the store, Sam walked through the mall. Ignoring the conservative stores where she usually shopped, only stopping again when she reached a nail salon.

 

Going in, Samantha had the nail technician strip off the tasteful French manicure she'd been sporting for years and replaced it with a rich shade of crimson. After waiting for her nails to dry and paying, she left and continued her journey through the mall. At last she walked into a restaurant which had a bar. Heading to the bar, she sat on a stool and ordered a drink. Normally she would have ordered a wine spritzer or an equally delicate drink. But today she felt reckless and ordered a Jack Daniels.

 

Her first drink disappeared quickly, however she drank her second whiskey slowly. The back of the bar was mirrored and she found herself staring at her reflection again. For years Jack had said they were same, but when she looked at Donald Lucas she saw nothing of herself or even what she expected to see of Jack in him.

 

Now looking at herself tarted up to look like Sharon Lesher, Samantha felt more in her element. It wasn't that she liked Sharon. But Jack's protégé had been much more what she'd expected and somehow dressing like Sharon she felt closer her perceptions of Jack. Maybe if she'd been freed of Jack sooner she could have returned to her world and maybe it had been too late since day one. Jack's world was home for Samantha, not a decorators dream in Buckhead and not the firehouse with Lucas in jail.

 

Jack's world. The words seemed to echo in her mind as she stared at herself. Like a dark and unreal El Dorado, it had promised a wealth of riches for the mind until the day Donald Lucas had shattered her illusions with his mundane reality.

 

Who am I? she wondered as continued to study her reflection. What's left of me? Was I ever anything but Jack's Samantha, even if I hated it?

 

So caught in her reverie, Samantha didn't realize she had company until a masculine voice intruded, "Dressing like Sharon won't make your world right Samantha."

 

Turning, Samantha gasped as saw the dark eyed man with the sardonic expression. As he looked at her, he seemed to devour her with his eyes. His height was average and his body slim, but contained within him was an air of authority unlike any Samantha had ever beheld. He closed the distance between them and took her hand. Each movement was deliberate and predatory. In his gaze was an intensity which shook her to the core. Trembling slightly she felt a rush of adrenaline course through her body as she studied his handsome face.

 

Unable to move or even to think, Samantha murmured the only word which at that moment was screaming in her head. "Jack."

 

Pulling her from the barstool to her feet, the stranger held her hand for a moment then released his hold on her. Standing inches apart, there was a wealth of meaning as the man responded with a single word, "Samantha."

 

Although there had been a few crackpots who had claimed to be Jack over the years and a few who had tried to come forward when Donald Lucas was arrested, Samantha knew in her heart the man before her was Jack. Her pulse began to race and her breath was rapid as a knot of desire began to burn deep in her stomach. Love and hate often walked a fine line and looking at the man who controlled her life for years, Samantha felt the tantalizing mixture tinged with desire. Lucas had never felt like he really was Jack, but this man?

 

"Lucas isn't-" Samantha began and trailed off as her knees buckled.

 

Jack's hands snapped out and caught her by the shoulders. Softly he instructed, "Lucas is of little concern. There are other more pressing matters that would be better discussed in private, don't you agree?"

 

"I-" she hesitated. Run! Run away Sam! a soft voice urged. But a louder more instant one screamed at Samantha, Go with him!

 

As Samantha wavered with uncertainty, Jack's grasp became almost imperceptibly firmer and he told her, "We're going now, Samantha."

 

Mutely she nodded as he reached into his jacket with one hand and withdrew a money clip. His hands only left her long enough to pay her tab before gently but firmly wrapping one arm around her waist and holding her hand with the other. She nervously grabbed her purse and began to reach for the bag.

 

"No, Samantha," he reprimanded her softly. "No safety net. You wanted to experience something more and that's what you're going to do. After this moment there is no turning back."

 

His words both thrilled and frightened her as she complied and allowed him to lead her from the bar and out of the mall. When Jack lead her to a strange car, Samantha knew better than to inquire about her own car as he held the door open for her and urged her into the vintage white convertible,

 

Jack slid into the driver's seat and said nothing to Samantha as he started the engine and the car roared to life. Pushing a button on the car's CD player, soft music filled the space around them. Despite the music, Samantha was certain Jack could hear the loud beating of her heart. Every illicit moment was terrifying and wonderful as she sat beside him. Fear, desire and curiosity warred within Samantha as Jack drove them away from the mall.

 

Samantha tried watching the scenery to calm her nerves, but her gaze kept finding it's way back to Jack. Finally she gave up and allowed herself to study him. He was handsome, his thick honey hair a stark contrast to Lucas' thinning straw colored hair. Donald Lucas had eyes which were light and blank, whereas Jack's deep amber eyes gleamed with unnatural glow of genius and madness. No wonder Sharon had hated her and tried to kill her, Samantha decided as she took in his face.

 

At last Jack pulled up to an apartment complex and Samantha felt an odd sense of disappointment as he got out and held the car door for her. Somehow the upscale apartment complex seemed wrong for Jack. He led her to one of the apartment doors and unlocked it and waited for her to enter.

 

Inside there was no furniture and she looked at him in confusion as he shut and locked the door behind them. There was a living room and a kitchen, gleaming shades of white and off white, almost like a canvas waiting to be painted. A small breakfast bar with two stark white stools divided the kitchen and the living room. At the far end of the living room, there were also two doors, which presumably lead to the bedroom and bathroom.

 

"Jack, I don't understand."

 

Smiling slightly, Jack explained, "This is not my home Samantha. For most of a decade I have followed you and waited for you to come to me. But I won't allow your relief that Lucas isn't me, not your own sudden lack of consequence to be your reason for surrender. It will be my way or not at all, my Samantha. I've waited so many years, I am prepared to wait as many as it takes for you. Today we'll see if you're ready to accept your omnipotence or if you must flail in mediocrity for a while longer."

 

"Mediocrity!?" Samantha spluttered. "You arrogant-"

 

"Silence," Jack interjected in a firm tone. "Wait here and do not move."

 

A defiant part of her wanted to argue and follow him, but she found herself remaining still and watching as he walked into the kitchen area of the apartment. From her vantage point, Samantha could see him opening a cupboard and removing something, but couldn't quite make out what. Jack removed his jacket and tie, then returned to Samantha with a small black plastic box which she watched intently. Bending down he placed it on the floor before Samantha.

 

"If you are to be at my side my Samantha, I must be sure of your loyalty."

 

"You mean you want me to kill someone?" she asked. The request wasn't entirely agreeable but far from unexpected either.

 

"Oh yes my Samantha, you will kill," Jack promised. "But there is far more to it than that. You see I learned omnipotence when I was a prisoner of my body as a child and later a prisoner of your heart. It was only by being submissive that I came to appreciate and understand my own omnipotence. If you are to recognize your omnipotence and see us as equals, you too must surrender."

 

Samantha remained mute as she considered Jack's words and the depth of them. Was she out of her mind? She stood before a serial killer, the man who murdered her husband for gods sakes and she was calmly listening to him as he demanded her surrender and submission. Submissiveness was not in her nature, but wasn't being at the mercy of Jack's whims for so long a form of submissiveness. Would he harm her? No probably nothing permenent. At least not of a physical nature, but what would he do to her mind?

 

Becoming impatient with her indecision, Jack took her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his eyes as he taunted, "What do you really have left to lose, Samantha? The daughter whom you let Angel raise? The career which I gave you? Where would you be without me Samantha? What is left without me? You went to that store to try and recapture magic you thought was lost. You may fool the idiots at the VCTF, but you'll never fool me."

 

Unwelcome tears formed and trailed down her face as her lips trembled. Unable to deny how much a part of her Jack was, Samantha whispered, "I'm so lost Jack. Please help me."

 

Leaning forward, Jack licked her tears up, savoring them before moving behind her. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered gently, "I know my darling. But are you ready to have me show you who you are?"

 

"I-I think so," she mouthed almost inaudibly.

 

"Do you remember when you tried your lame little deception with John Grant and I had you come to meet me at a warehouse?"

 

"Yes."

 

"It was my voice, Samantha via a nice little audio system. But the man behind the glass was Andre Kostos. Remember him?"

 

"Yes," she answered as she remembered John's plan to flush out Jack.

 

"More importantly, do you remember what we said to each other that day?" Jack pressed. Without waiting for her response, he told her, "I said for you to fall on your knees. And you said-"

 

"Never. I will never get on my knees for you," she repeated her words from that day without the conviction her voice had held then.

 

"Now Samantha, if you are ready at last. Fall on your knees." His voice was soft, almost gentle, but inflexible at the same time.

 

Even without Jack telling her, Samantha knew that her obedience or lack thereof would answer his earlier question of if she was ready to surrender. Slowly and hesitantly, she knelt down on the floor. Jack moved in front of her and she looked up in nervous anticipation of what was to follow her acquiescence.

 

"Open the box," he directed, his expression unreadable as he spoke.

 

Anxiously, Samantha opened the black plastic box and looked at the contents. There was a coil of black fabric, handcuffs, foot cuffs and a few items she didn't recognize. Nervous lust coiled and trembled deep within her as she considered what was about to happen. Indicating the fabric coil, Jack bid her to remove it and watched as Samantha complied.

 

"Unfurl it, wrap it around your eyes and tie it in the back," Jack told her.

 

Reluctantly, Samantha obeyed. Being unable to see left her so vulnerable. But then that was what Jack wanted. Lifting her face towards where Jack had stood, Samantha waited in the darkness. The sound of a zipper and an order to open her mouth invaded her dark world. Although she'd anticipated Jack would expect sex in time, the demand for her mouth was thrilling, frustrating, and left her dizzy.

 

Had she not been wearing the blindfold she would have seen the mixture of pleasure and regret on Jack's face as he withdrew his cock from his pants and pressed it into Samantha's waiting lips. Much as he longed to make love properly to his Samantha and to give her pleasure, he knew she needed to give herself to him completely. He'd worshipped her for so long that she had to learn that only by submitting to him could she learn her omnipotence. Although he would relish the end result of her submission and the feeling of her warm mouth felt wonderful, the process would be as difficult or more so for him than it would be for his Samantha.

 

Kneeling before Jack, Samantha found herself discovering things about him as she drew him deep into her mouth. At first contact on her tongue, she discovered he was circumcised and had a very defined ridge to the head of his cock. As the blowjob continued, she discovered his balls were smooth shaven as they briefly pressed against her chin. Thick and long, his cock moved in her mouth. Although he'd not allowed her to use her hands, snapping the word "no" when she'd tried to; Jack was very gentle, almost tender in his movements. His fingers wandered through her hair, but he never tried to pull her mouth down by grabbing the back of her head as Tom had often tried.

 

On the edge but unable to control Samantha as completely as he felt he should, Jack breathlessly told her, "You don't have to swallow, I-"

 

Samantha fought a small giggle that threatened to escape as Jack made his offer. There had been vulnerability in his tone at that moment and in that moment; Samantha knew that all would be fine. She would play Jack's game and in the end he would never really harm her. Even emotionally, he might push, but he would never take things further than she could handle.

 

Comforted and feeling reassured, Samantha replied, "I want to."

 

Her words made Jack's knees nearly buckle as a tremor coursed through him. His pleasure flowed salty and warm into Samantha's mouth. As he watched her swallow his cum, Jack struggled with himself not to remove Samantha's blindfold and make love to her with all the love in his heart. Steeling himself, he had her lick him clean and put his cock back in his pants.

 

"Stay here, I'll be right back," Jack ordered. Walking towards the closed door of the bedroom, he left Samantha in the living room. In the bedroom there was a simple bed with white sheets and beside it, a large black wedge shape which Jack picked up and carried back into the living room. Laying it on the floor slightly to Samantha's side, the black form contrasted sharply with the cream carpeting. But then that was why Jack had selected the apartment, it would be necessary for one of Samantha's most important steps she would take later.

 

"Stand up," Jack instructed. Taking her arm, he helped her to her feet since she was slightly unsteady in her heels. "Pull your skirt up."

 

As she complied, Jack was grateful for the blindfold covering Samantha's eyes. The skull and crossbones on her panties made him grin with an amusement unsuited to the moment. Reaching out, he traced the design with his fingertip, eliciting a moan from her. Pleased, Jack slid his finger lower and pressed it into the edge of Samantha's thong. Caressing her pussy lips for a moment, wetness engulfed his finger.

 

The heated sensation of her sex gave Jack confidence Samantha was ready for everything he had planned. After having her remove her panties, Jack guided her back to the floor and told her to lie on her back. Eager and hopeful, Samantha complied. An erotic thrill raced through her as Jack pushed the narrow end of the velvet wedge under her back, raising her pelvis and spreading her thighs slightly.

 

Jack knelt beside her and trailed his fingertips over Samantha's body igniting a litany of needy sounds. Leaning over and searching through the box, Jack withdrew two small nooses made out of black silk ribbon. Reaching under Samantha's neck, he undid the fastening on the top part of her dress. Slowly he pulled down the top of her dress. Moving his lips over her breasts, he began to leisurely lick and kiss her sensitive flesh until her nipples were hard peaks.

 

Taking on taut bud between his fingers, Jack eased then tightened the black silk noose over her nipple. The pink tip that peaked out from its silk prison seemed to swell even further as his hands moved to her other breast and gave it similar attention. Lying on the floor as Jack bound her nipples in the soft variation of nipple clamps, Samantha felt like crying as the pleasurable torment seemed to stretch out forever in the darkness.

 

"Jack!" Samantha pleaded desperately.

 

He'd intended to not grant her any release until later in the process, but his resolve faded as she said his name with such hunger. Moving to her sex, Jack leaned between the junction of Samantha's thighs and lowered his mouth. Drawing the saline sweetness of her clit against his tongue, he licked her until she careened with pleasure. As she lay panting, Jack reached into the black box and withdrew a clit clip.

 

Sliding it over the base of her swollen button, it stuck out like a shining pink pearl. Giving it a brief and gentle kiss, he then moved beside Samantha and wrapped his arms around her. She was still shuddering as he held her tightly. Wordlessly, Jack caressed her for several minutes before he sat up and eases her thighs off of the black velvet wedge and told her to get up on her knees again. Still shaken from the intesity of her climax, Samantha shivered and obeyed. Pleased, he turned the wedge around so the narrow end faced away from Samantha.

 

Jack kissed the back of her neck as he drew the bodice of her dress up and fastened it in the back with the silk ribbons still on Samantha's nipples. Gathering her arms behind her, Jack bound them with the handcuffs. The click of the cuffs resounded ominously in the empty apartment. Smoothing Samantha's skirt, he pressed her forward so she toppled gently onto the wedge, her posterior in the air.

 

"Jack?" Samantha hesitated.

 

Taking the ankle cuffs in one hand, he slid the other down her thighs and towards her feet. Placing the cuffs around her ankles and closing them, he instructed, "You will remain this way until it pleases me to move you. No matter what happens, you will not move off the wedge. Understand?"

 

"Y-y-yes," she stammered, as she felt his hand touch hers and he eased her wedding ring off.

 

"Yes, who?"

 

"Yes, Jack."

 

Standing up, Jack walked to the kitchen. Samantha could hear the sound of the refrigerator. Then she heard him open and shut one of the doors as he entered the bedroom to retrieve a velvet pillow which matched the wedge. Her fragile nerves seemed to break and a nervous whimper escaped her lips as she heard him approach. In the darkness of the blindfold, her sense of touch had taken on an exquisitely intense level and her heart was racing as she tried to anticipate Jack's next move. Her musing ended as Jack moved behind her, sat down the pillow and a glass with ice and kissed the back of her thigh just above her stocking with a sliver of ice in his mouth.

 

As she shook from the sensation, Jack eased her skirt up exposing her to the air. Just outside of the edge of her pussy lips, he traced with the ice making Samantha shake even harder. Pausing, he withdrew a shining set of ben wa balls from their nesting box which had been in the black plastic box and pressed one and then the other inside her womanhood. Resuming his icy kiss, he watched as Samantha shivered from the sensation of his mouth and even more from the sensation of the ben wa balls. He brought her to the edge, but didn't allow her to climax despite the exigent mewls that came from Samantha. Although he'd given into her needs earlier, her brief respite had given him the will to continue with his plans.

 

Stopping and moving near her face, Jack inquired in a polite tone, "Samantha do you need anything to drink? Or require anything else?"

 

"No," Samantha reluctantly answered. She wanted to feel his touch, to be unbound and for Jack to make love to her, but somehow she knew better than to ask that.

 

"No, what?" he pushed.

 

Irritation rose rapidly in Samantha, but just as quickly as it arose, it dissipated and she said, "No, thank you, Jack."

 

Gently lifting her head, he slid the velvet pillow under her head so her face could rest on the soft velvet rather than the roughness of the carpet. Turning her face towards him, he kissed her and murmured, "Good. Soon Samantha. Very soon you will be ready."

 

Standing up, he walked out of the apartment and left Samantha. Parked beside his convertible was a floral van he owned. Sliding open the back door of the van, Jack grabbed his laptop which rested on a pair of large black trunks and began typing rapidly. A moment later, Samantha was on the screen.

 

He'd planned for this moment for a long time and he intended to watch her every second. In part for her safety, in part to see how well she obeyed and also he was curious to see what her reaction to everything that had transpired would be. Reaching out he took a rose from a large container which was tightly packed with the fragrant blossoms. Thrusting the rose at the screen he brushed the scarlet petals over Samantha's face before remotely accessing his main computer so he could have the cameras start recoring.

 

As Jack sat in the van observing Samantha on his computer screen, she shifted slightly on the velvet wedge. Had Jack really left or is he still here, watching her? She wondered. He could have easily opened and shut the door without ever leaving. But then he had asked if she needed anything which suggested he would be out for a little while.

 

Her thoughts drifted from Jack to the sensation of her position. The pillow elevated her head slightly, the lowest part of her body was her chest. Inside her dress, Samantha felt very aware of the ribbons tied around her nipples. The gentle flow of air that seemed to circulate through the apartment passed over making her also very cognizant of the clit clip Jack had placed on her. Never before had she been so aware of her body sexually as she had become today. Every erotic shiver seemed to make the ben wa balls move within her, maintaining her state of arousal.

 

What would be next? If it were anyone other than Jack she'd worry about him bringing in another man and allowing him to fuck her. However, given his jealousy and possessiveness, she knew he woudn't. Maybe expect her to kill someone? Murder was wrong, she'd spent her life helping to put away killers. She couldn't kill. Could she?

 

"I can't kill," Sam whispered desperately trying to convince herself.

 

Even as she spoke the words rang hollow in her ears. She tried to conjure an image of Chloe in her mind, but the sensual ache that filled her made it impossible to focus on anything but Jack and her eager flesh. Every good and decent part of her seemed very distant in her present state. How long had it been since Jack had left? Minutes? Hours? Time had an odd irrelevancy now, but both her body and mind longed for his return.

 

When Jack heard Samantha speak, he sat the laptop aside, opened the van door a crack and smoked a cigarette. Maneuvering through their game had always been difficult, but as they approached the final and most important levels, they became increasingly onerous. He'd played too long and had too much invested not to win. Finishing his cigarette, Jack left the van and went back to the apartment.

 

At the sound of the door, Samantha raised her head off the pillow slightly, shivered and called out, "Jack?"

 

His resolve wavered at the tenuous sound of her voice and Jack acknowledged, "Yes, it's me."

 

As Samantha settled back onto the pillow and her body relaxed, save it's sexual tensions, Jack knew it had been the right thing to answer her. While he wanted Samantha to break, he wanted her to break to his will and to find strength, not to leave her mind in tatters. To destroy Sam and give rise to Samantha, he had to strike the perfect balance. Locking the door, Jack walked into the bedroom to get the next instruments of Samantha's liberation.

 

Opening the bedroom closet, Jack withdrew a large folded black leather table. At first glance it resembled a massage table, but the series of strategically placed metal loops told another story. Carrying the table to the living room, Jack unfolded it and set it up several feet away from where Samantha remained. As he set up the table, the scent of leather filled the air, the table and the other items had been purchased a month ago when Samantha shot and killed Sharon. His purchases had waited in the closets and cupboards of the apartment until today.

 

Although he could tell she was very curious about the sounds and the scent, he was pleased when she didn't ask for an explanation. Another trip to the bedroom closet for a second and larger black plastic box than the one he'd brought out earlier and Jack was nearly ready to continue Samantha's liberation. Opening the box, Jack withdrew two hand restraints with leather cuffs and chains that ran from them. After positioning them midway on the table, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash the nicotine from his hands.

 

Returning, Jack knelt down and removed her high heels, then produced a key and unlocked the ankle cuffs. Discarding them to the side, he took one foot in his hands and massaged it gently. With equal tenderness he inspected and touched Samantha's other foot. His fingers carefully parted her sex and withdrew the ben wa balls and placed them back in their container. Next he unlocked the handcuffs, tossed them away and scrutinized her wrists for any damage.

 

"Samantha, I'm going to help you stand now," he explained and guided her to her feet. When she wobbled slightly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and stood behind her as he inquired, "How do you feel?"

 

"I-"

 

At her hesitation, Jack chided, "You have to tell me, Samantha. Now, how do you feel?"

 

"Okay, Jack. But-" Samantha again trailed off. How could she give voice to the neediness that coursed through her?

 

"Perhaps you need something?" he questioned in a sibilant tone and slid a hand under her skirt cupping her pussy.

 

"Please Jack!"

 

"Such a good girl," he purred, his lips brushing the side of her throat as his fingertips explored her swollen lips.

 

He continued kissing her neck, as whimper rose up within Samantha and she leaned back against him. As her breathing quickened and he drew her closer to the edge, Jack continued his leisurely caress with his hand. But his mouth which had kissed the side of her neck tenderly became rough, almost savage as he drew her flesh into his mouth, bruising and marking her. A long high wail emitted from her lips and her body shuddered violently as the mixture of pain and pleasure brought Samantha over the brink.

 

Had Jack not caught her tightly in his arms, she would have fallen to the floor as her knees buckled. Turning her around in his arms, Jack nuzzled Samantha as she continued panting from her orgasm. For several minutes he held her and waited until her strength returned and she could support her own weight again. With effort, he slid the clit clip off her before taking her hand and leading her to the bathroom.

 

Opening the door, he offered, "There's a toilet about three feet directly ahead and the sink is located just to the left of it. Although I require you retain your blindfold, you're welcome to close the door and freshen up. When you're ready, open the door and call for me. I'm going to see about getting you something to drink. Would you like anything to eat? Or would you prefer to wait until later?"

 

"Later, please Jack," she replied, shutting the bathroom door.

 

Going into the kitchen, Jack grabbed a glass and got a container of orange juice from the refrigerator. Pouring a glass and sitting it on the counter, he hoped Samantha would leave her blindfold on as he commanded. For all her present polite and meek demeanor, Jack knew Samantha hadn't surrendered completely yet. Until she accepted every part of both of them body and soul, from omnipotence to violence, she would not be his entirely. Since the bathroom was the one place he hadn't installed a camera, he would have to observe her when she came out for if she'd defied him.

 

A couple minutes later, Samantha stood with her hand on the door knob and paused. If she ripped off the blindfold and ran, she could- could what? Run from Jack? A small part of her demanded she return to her life and try to forget the past few hours. Her fingers moved upwards toward her blindfold. However, another, more insistent part of her demanded that she see their game through to the end. Lowering her hands, her blindfold untouched, Samantha opened the door.

 

"Jack," she called out softly.

 

A moment later, he was at the threshold of the bathroom and taking her by the hand. When they reached the living room, he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the table, placing her so she wouldn't brush against the rings that were located along the sides. He left her to grab the glass of orange juice and returned to press it into her hands.

 

"It's orange juice. There's no alcohol or anything else in it," he assured her.

 

"Thank you, Jack," Samantha said, taking a sip from the glass.

 

"You may speak freely for now."

 

An amused look crossed her face and she laughed, "In that case. Thank you, Jack."

 

His laughter joined hers and Jack regretted the fabric barrier which kept him from seeing her eyes. As she sipped her juice, he pushed back a stray strand of hair from her forehead. Neither spoke for several minutes as she finished her drink. Although he offered her more, she refused. Jack returned the glass to the kitchen and rejoined Samantha in the living room. Taking a seat on the table next to her, he felt oddly shy.

 

"Is this some sort of massage table?" she inquired, running her hand over the leather surface.

 

"Some sort," Jack hedged, taking her hand in his to prevent her exploring the table further and discovering it's precise nature.

 

Again silence fell between them, until Samantha demanded suddenly, "Why?"

 

"Why the table?" he feigned ignorance.

 

"You know damn well what I mean, Jack" she snapped pulling her hand away from him and gesturing. "Why all this? Why now? For godsakes, why me in the first place?

 

Gently guiding her hands to her lap, Jack asked, "Which shall I answer first, Samantha? Let's go with the easiest question first. Why now?"

 

"Fine. Why?"

 

"I've been following you, the same as I always have. Lately, since Donald Lucas was thrown into your path, I've watched with even greater interest. I saw the disappointment in your eyes when you thought that pathetic idiot was Jack-Of-All Trades. Lucas wasn't how you'd imagined me."

 

"No," Samantha agreed.

 

"That said. I've watched as in the past month the brilliant woman I've known all these years fade away for something as lifeless as Donald Lucas. Most women would have been relieved and embraced their freedom, but you found it-"

 

"Stifling," Samantha interjected unthinkingly. Then she tried to backpedal, "I was adjusting. Just today I looked at three houses."

 

Jack's lips curved in a sardonic smile as he chuckled, "All of which were every bit as acceptable as the nine you saw earlier this week."

 

"How did you-"

 

"Samantha, I'm always with you. Those houses were perfect for Chloe. They were not however, perfect for you. "

 

Annoyed, Samantha shot back, "I'm thinking of making an offer on the last one."

 

"Funny, I don't believe anything about real estate passing through your lips," he observed in a suggestive tone.

 

Fury rose up within her and she swung blindly in Jack's direction. He caught her wrists easily and forced them down to Samantha's sides. Still holding them, he drawled, "Such a violent temper."

 

Samantha hissed, "I'm violent!? You've butchered how many of my friends you son of a bitch!"

 

"There's no need for foul language," he chided softly.

 

"You said to speak freely. I'll talk any fucking way I like," she retorted.

 

Her outburst far from upsetting Jack, pleased him. Samantha resorting to using profanity meant her defenses were starting to wear thin. At the same time it meant that although she was surrendering to him, she was slowly gaining a sense of empowerment. Jack considered responding to her with anger or punishment, instead he remained quiet and allowed Samantha to make the next move. The line of her jaw stood defiant then began to waver with uncertainty.

 

After several minutes, she sighed, "I'm sorry about the language. However, I thought the comment about my mouth was over the line."

 

"Bravo, Samantha," Jack declared.

 

Under the mask she blushed with pleasure at his praise and he was gratified by her reaction. Breaking a person was easy, Jack could do that in the space of half an hour in the right circumstances. But selectively destroying one psyche and freeing another was far more complex. Samantha was unaware, but Jack was every bit as nervous as she was.

 

"Please help me to understand the why," she entreated.

 

"You wondered why I decided on now," Jack began. "When you killed Sharon, I knew the time would be coming soon, it was a matter of watching you for the right moment."

 

"When I shot Sharon," Samantha clarified.

 

Correcting her gently, Jack continued, "When you killed Sharon, you changed. Not because you killed her, you'll find with time that it becomes second nature, but you chose to shoot her rather than me. Any other member of law enforcement would have put a bullet in my chest point blank, then turned the gun on Sharon. You felt safe turning your back to me and of the two of us, killed the lesser threat. Sharon killed Coop, I killed Tom. Who would Bailey have shot?"

 

"You," Samantha answered truthfully. Bailey, would have killed Jack or at the very least shot his leg before turning the gun on Sharon. So would John or any of the other members of the VCTF. Jack was deadlier on his worst day than Sharon on her best, yet she had felt safe turning her gun on Jack's apprentice.

 

"Ultimately, you killed Sharon that day because you wanted her dead. You didn't shoot me because you didn't want me to die. Please don't insult your intelligence or mine by saying it was a judgment call. You've had years to study me, you know that I'm capable of killing with my bare hands."

 

"I hated her. I'm glad she's dead," Samantha mused aloud. Shock spread across her face and she repeated in surprise, "I'm glad she's dead."

 

Approvingly, Jack urged, "Think about Sharon. What did you feel as she lay dead?"

 

"Pleased," she admitted reluctantly.

 

"Good. But there's more to it, isn't there?"

 

"Maybe," Samantha sighed. When Jack didn't comment and was silent, she knew he wanted her to elaborate. "I hated that she'd had a part of you, I didn't have. Bailey and the rest assumed it was self-defense and that it had been a hitch in your plans. But even as I pulled the trigger, I knew I was doing what you wanted all along. You wanted me to kill Sharon."

 

Drawing her into an embrace, Jack complimented her, "I was so proud of you, my Samantha. You were so beautiful when you pulled the trigger. So beautiful-"

 

His voice dropped to a husky whisper then kissed her. As Jack's mouth claimed hers, Samantha felt a warmth suffuse her entire body from his praise. The minor guilt she'd felt at killing Sharon seemed to fade and be replaced with pride. Jack was pleased with her for killing Sharon and the euphoria that accompanied that knowledge made Samantha feel dizzy. She wanted Jack's approval she realized in shock.

 

Lifting his mouth from Samantha's, Jack held her as he continued, "That's how I knew today that you were ready. Having your illusions of me shattered by Lucas left you miserable. When you dressed like Sharon, you had a hint of your former vibrancy. Seeing you dressed like Sharon, shedding your image, even if for a single afternoon, I knew you were ready. So instead of allowing you to leave the mall and following you discretely, I approached you. There can only be one reason to take comfort from dressing like someone you despised. You care about me far more than you care to admit, Donald Lucas has been painful for you. Hasn't he?"

 

"Yes," Samantha nodded. Then added, "But Jack, whatever my feelings have been, it doesn't change who you are. And it doesn't change who I am."

 

Jack agreed, "True."

 

"You agree with me?"

 

"I agree that your feelings do not change who either of us are," Jack affirmed. Caressing her face, he amended, "However, that is based on the fact you never did know who you really are. From the first moment I saw you, I knew we were the same. I thought by giving you all those lives you would see your omnipotence and realize who you are. Now I know better."

 

"So, killing those people was a mistake," Samantha prompted.

 

"I don't make mistakes Samantha," Jack frowned. "I merely realized that it wasn't enough to show you who you were. Over time I realized you hadn't had the advantages that I had and needed to be humbled before you could truly see yourself and see your superiority. How could you possibly be my Samantha when you cling to the pathetic facade of Sam Waters psyche? Being self-centered and egotistical are admirable qualities when properly aligned."

 

"I'm nothing like you and never will be," she protested.

 

"Samantha, you are just like me. It's just a matter of you abandoning the meaningless things you cling to-"

 

"Meaningless!" Samantha exploded, pulling out of Jack's embrace. "My job and my daughter are not meaningless!"

 

Laughter rumbled in Jack's chest and he observed, "Interesting your job came before your daughter."

 

"Damn it, Jack! Chloe is everything to me," she insisted.

 

"Of course," he snickered. "That's why Angel has been the one raising Chloe all these years and when Tom was alive, it was his mother and the nanny."

 

"I love Chloe!"

 

"You're a terrific mother, Sam," Jack quipped. "Isn't that the lie Bailey and your co-workers always feed you? Frankly, I don't know why you objected to Tom's parents wanting custody."

 

"She's my daughter," Samantha fumed. Then taunted, "Anyway, you sent Sharon to kill them, that was how she broke away from you and eventually got caught."

 

"Samantha, Sharon got caught less than a week before I'd planned. Everything with regard to her went as planned, except for that little incident at Christmas."

 

"When I shot you," she provoked.

 

"Not my favorite encounter we've had," he shrugged dismissively. "Suffice it to say, you wanted Chloe, it wasn't time for you to come to me yet so I intended to see you could keep her for a little longer. You're not an involved mother, Chloe would probably be better off with them and you only seeing her for a couple days a year when she's on her best behavior and you can be bothered."

 

Angrily, she accused, "You kept me from having much time with her."

 

"Of course," Jack mocked. "That's why you've spent so many quality hours with her since Donald Lucas' capture."

 

"So I'm not the world's best mother," Samantha said dismissively. "It still doesn't make me a murderer."

 

"Samantha, you have so much potential. If only you could see what I do-"

 

Annoyed, she interrupted, "I'd what? Channel my inner psycho and be like you? I'll never be like you."

 

"Never is a very long time," Jack quipped, taking her by the chin and turning her head toward him. Leaning close he scoffed softly, "Sanity is an over rated virtue, my dear. Tell me you don't miss the rush of our game. You've enjoyed every moment of it."

 

"I haven't," she demurred.

 

Kissing her with punishing force, then tracing her throat with his lips, Jack rasped, "You may have lied to yourself for all these years, but you'll never be able to lie to me, Samantha. Without our game you've been miserable, you've felt as lost as you did when you quit the FBI and hid at Angel's farm."

 

"I- I quit to escape you. After Tom died, I hid to protect my daughter."

 

"No, Samantha," Jack persisted, his mouth slowly caressing her throat still. "You hated leaving our game. Tom's making you quit left you angry. Whatever you thought you felt for him, you realized wasn't real when he made you quit the FBI and more importantly when he made you quit me. You hid not because you were scared of what I would do, but because you were scared of what you would do."

 

Nervously, Samantha echoed, "Scared of what I would do."

 

Tightening his hold on Samantha, Jack confirmed in a seductive tone, "So scared. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror I held up for you. The possibilities scared you as much as they excited you. Ultimate power, complete omnipotence. You saw that you were the alpha to my omega. "

 

Sliding his hand under her skirt, Jack's fingers began to stroke Samantha's wetness as he pressed on, "That's why you love your job, because it allows you to dance along the edge of your true self- to have that erotic and electric thrill of the kill. But when I disappeared from your world, you realized that blood shed is empty pleasure without a mirror to quantify and reflect you."

 

"Oh God. Jack, I-"

 

"Oh yes, my Samantha," he purred as he continued his caress. "Yes my Samantha. I will be your god, just as you are mine. Together we will create and rule. God and goddess, in perfect marriage of violence, omnipotence, intelligence-"

 

Leaning into Jack, Samantha reached up to draw his lips to hers, against his mouth she panted, "And our game?"

 

"Our game," he affirmed, his own breath quickening as he met her kiss.

 

"And- and- oh God. And l-love?"

 

"What about love?" Jack asked, forcing himself to control the situation. She needed to admit her feelings first. If he confessed the depth of his love now, he would lose his power over the situation. Samantha needed to remain submissive or she could later disavow her emotions. His emotions had to be subdued throughout the process if he was going to remain dominant. Manipulating her body along with her mind, Jack stopped touching Samantha.

 

"Our love. Please, Jack," she beseeched, placing her hand on his seeking relief as she trembled on the .

 

"Our love," Jack repeated in quizzical tone. Moving his thumb over her clit, he slid two fingers deep into her pussy, eliciting a gasp from her.

 

"Y-yes. We l-love each other," Samantha stammered, his touch invading both her body and senses. Jack loved her didn't he? Euphoria rising and sanity fleeing, she cried out, "I- I- I- I love you! I love you! I love you!"

 

Over and over she cried out the words Jack had longed to hear for so long. He continued to touch Samantha as a second climax followed almost immediately after the first. Her litany became a nearly hysterical sob, but remained distinct enough Jack could make out each vow of love. As Samantha panted and tried to recover, the words continued to fall breathlessly from her lips.

 

Holding her trembling form, Jack murmured wordlessly in a soothing tone. Although a part of him yearned to answer her avowal of love, Samantha had been in control of their relationship for far too long. Before Jack could speak of love, Samantha had to abandon everything she had been and to realize and fulfill her potential. The closer he brought her to the breaking point, the less compassion he could show. No quarter could or would be given his Samantha.

 

When her breathing was less ragged, Jack stood up and announced, "Playtime is over. Stand up."

 

"Jack is this really necessary? I-"

 

Grabbing her arms, Jack hauled her to her feet and hissed, "I don't like to repeat myself, Samantha."

 

"Yes, Jack," she replied uneasily in his punishing grip.

 

"Good."

 

Unfastening Samantha's dress, Jack watched as it fell to the floor. Ordering her to step out of it, he knelt and rolled down her stockings and discarded them. Standing again, he pinched her nipples with slow and cruel deliberation which made Samantha cry out. Then he removed the black silk nooses from her nipples and kissed them softly. Turning her around so she was facing the table, Jack placed her hands on the smooth leather top.

 

"Get up on the table. I want you to lie flat on your stomach," Jack instructed.

 

Feeling around the table top for a moment, Samantha cautiously obeyed. The tender respite had clearly ended and the tone of his voice was firm. Lying on the table, she felt uneasy. She'd told Jack she loved him, it was what he'd always wanted to hear, wasn't it? He didn't respond verbally, what went through his mind as she said it, Samantha wondered. If she weren't still wearing the blindfold she could have maybe found reassurance in his eyes.

 

Jack touched her briefly to adjust her position on the table and commanded, "Don't move. I will return in a moment."

 

Lying on the table, Samantha heard Jack walk away and heard the sound of water running. When he returned, he took a damp cloth and rubbed it over her back in a solicitous manner. Continuing the spongebath, he parted her thighs, removing the traces of her arousal from her tender flesh. Leaving her briefly to discard the washcloth, Jack returned and opened the container he'd sat earlier beside the table.

 

Withdrawing a small bottle of massage oil, he poured a little between his hands. Rubbing his hands together, Jack warmed the oil and released it's scent. Slowly he began to trace the contours of Samantha's back with the rose scented oil. Luxuriating in his touch, Samantha relaxed slightly. Then, tension seemed to fill her again...

 

---

Chapter 2

Her breasts still felt ultra sensitive and as Jack stroked her back, the slight movement it made rubbed her breasts back and forth against the leather. While Jack slid his his hands over her back slowly and in an innocent manner, Samantha found herself gradually becoming aroused again. His massage moved from her back to her legs and feet and she tried unsuccessfully to relax as he caressed her feet and calves. Jack's hands moved up the back of her thighs and Samantha gasped.

 

"Is something wrong, Samantha?" he inquired. By manipulating the situation carefully, he would force Samantha to beg for more and humble herself further.

 

"No, Jack," she answered.

 

Continuing to massage her, Jack smirked and said, "That's good. I want you nice and relaxed."

 

"I am," Samantha lied.

 

"So you are," he agreed. Then added, "That's why I wanted to clean you up a bit before we started. How could you possibly relax with a wet pussy?"

 

Samantha fought an urge to scream as she realized if she became aroused again Jack would know immediately. She wasn't turned on, not that much, was she? Okay, maybe a little, but perhaps if she thought about non-sexual things. Eventually things had to come to an end and then she would walk away. Samantha didn't want to give Jack any more power over her.

 

As Jack's hands slid over her thighs, Samantha shifted uncomfortably on the table. The smooth leather rubbed against her nipples and she felt them hardening. Think non-sexual things, Samantha scolded herself. Burying her face against the table, Samantha tried to think of something to distract her from the slow throb which seemed to course her body. The scent of the leather filled her senses. An unwelcome image of Jack in a pair of black leather pants rose up in her mind. Turning her head to the side slightly, the scent of roses seemed to mingle with the leather and her imagination went into overdrive.

 

While she struggled to gain control over her body, Jack's hand moved from her thighs to her lower back, retracing part of his path and dipping slightly lower. Pausing at her backside, his moved to the outer edges of her curves and moved downwards. His hands stroked the back of her thighs, then wandered to explore the parts of her inner thighs that had been previously untouched. The fingertips shifted from a gentle massage to a light caress which made Samantha sigh in a mixture of defeat and desire.

 

Any hope she harbored that Jack wouldn't notice, fled as he traced her moist lips briefly and Samantha heard him chuckle softly, "Let's hope you'll be more obedient to me than your body is to you."

 

"We'll see," she muttered and flushed with embarrassment as Jack moved near her face and turned her head towards him.

 

Leaning down, his mouth covered hers, his lips demanding and masterful. Jack lifted his face from Samantha's and promised, "Yes. We will indeed see."

 

A nervous shiver ran through Samantha. She was no longer sure of what she should do or say. Since leaving the mall with Jack, her world had turned upside down and Samantha no longer felt certain of anything. Everything she felt and thought had become hazy she realized. Her heart began to pound in her chest as fear began to mingle with her desire. Fearfully, she gulped and fought an urge to try and run away.

 

Interrupting her thoughts, Jack informed Samantha, "I need to leave you for a little bit. Stay exactly where you are."

 

His lips brushed hers briefly and Samantha heard the door open and close. Standing by the door, Jack watched her silently. Her senses were in overdrive so he needed to be extra careful not to betray his presence. But Jack was good at being stealthy- often his victims were unaware of his presence until he struck and it was too late for them.

 

Unaware Jack was watching her, Samantha's mind was reeling. What was she doing? This wasn't who she was, was it? Jack's words and promises had invaded her, seductive and insidious as he was. Wasn't it wrong? This man had killed Tom and yet she'd allowed him to touch her. She had loved Tom, hadn't she? But there was truth to Jack's insinuation that she'd felt less for Tom when she had to quit the FBI and Jack.

 

Unwelcome, Jack's earlier words about her hiding not from him, but because she was scared of what she would do came back to her. How many times had she looked at Jack's handiwork with admiration than revulsion? So many nights her dreams were filled with Jack, some were nightmares, but often they were erotic and violent. When Samantha looked at Jack's crimes she could see the madness with the genius, over time the insanity seemed to fade from her vision and all she could see was his dark brilliance. Sometimes she'd felt like she was slipping when Jack was still a faceless entity. Now that his handsome face swam through her mind and her body still ached from Jack's touch, Samantha was terrified.

 

Desperately, Samantha tried to conjure Tom's face and to find resentment for Jack. To Samantha's horror, she found herself imaging what Jack saw and felt as he killed Tom. The satisfaction she felt as she saw Tom die, shook her to the core. She had to escape and fast. If Samantha didn't run, she would plunge fully into Jack's world, her sanity was hanging by a thread and the unthinkable was becoming too enticing.

 

Getting onto her hands and knees, Samantha started to reach for the blindfold. Before her hand could touch it, Jack was on top of her. Shocked, Samantha struggled vainly as his hands grabbed hers and his weight forced her body onto the table. Releasing one arm briefly to grab one of the restraints attached to the table, Jack waited for Samantha to reach back to try and hit him. He caught her wrist easily and forced it into the leather cuff and secured it. Still pressing her to the table with his lower body, Jack drew her other arm back with one hand and reached for the remaining cuff with the other.

 

The chains clanked as Jack pinned Samantha down again and growled in her ear, "I told you to stay put, Samantha."

 

"Jack, I-"

 

"Shh," Jack hushed her kissing the back of the her neck gently, then nipping it hard.

 

Samantha yelped, but didn't struggle, unsure of what to expect as Jack withdrew his mouth and moved off her body. His hands circled her waist roughly and pulled her down the table so her hips were near the edge and her thighs were parted over the edges of the table. Jack adjusted the chains which ran between the table and Samantha's wrist restraints so her shoulders and breasts were thrust upwards and her back arched back slightly.

 

Jack reached into the container and withdrew a set of restraints for Samantha's ankles. Drawing Samantha's ankle upwards towards the top of the table, Jack secured the leather restraint around her ankle and then drew the chain through a loop on the table and fastened it in place. Placing her other ankle in a similar manner, Jack studied her. With her legs spread wide and her hands pulled back, Samantha was completely exposed and at his mercy.

 

Even through her blindfold, Samantha was aware of Jack's scrutiny and she squirmed nervously in her restraints. While she didn't think Jack would hurt her, she knew he wasn't pleased with her. For several minutes, she lay vulnerable to him, waiting anxiously for what would happen.

 

Behind her, Jack rummaged through the black plastic container. Pulling out a pair of smooth black leather gloves, Jack pulled them onto his hands and adjusted them so they were pulled down perfectly over each finger. Moving to the table, Jack slid one gloved hand over the curve of Samantha's backside.

 

"I'm very disappointed, Samantha," Jack admonished her. His hand lifted and came down in a firm smack on her ass.

 

"Jack!" Samantha cried out half in pain and half in disbelief.

 

"Such a naughty girl, Samantha," Jack scolded. Giving her another swat he added, "Naughty girls have to be punished."

 

As his hand came down, Samantha's skin stung and became warm, the warmth seemed to spread to her already heated sex. The smooth glove caressed her heated flesh, then came down for another blow. A leather clad finger dipped to trace a line from Samantha's clit up her lips and along the crescent of her rear. Raising his hand, Jack brought it down hard on her buttocks in a short staccato series of blows.

 

"Jack, stop," Samantha implored. There was a dull ache deep in her flesh from the blows along with the sharp sting on her skin. She wanted to scream at him that it hurt, but she couldn't. The electricity that coursed through her body with each smack made her bite her tongue to keep from pleading for more. Punishment wasn't supposed to feel so good was it? And she simply couldn't give in to Jack. If she didn't fight him, she was lost. Again she protested, "Jack!"

 

"Stop?" he mocked in an incredulous tone. Taking one reddened cheek in his gloved hand, he kneaded the skin gently, as he said, "Not until you say you're sorry."

 

"Fine, I'm sorry," Samantha shot back, then cried out as Jack stopped his caress and gave her another swat.

 

"You don't mean it, not yet anyway," Jack chided. Then, punctuating each accusation with a slap on her ass, he continued, "Disobeying me. Breaking the rules of our game. Making me wait all these years. Making me watch you with other men!"

 

Samantha's eyes teared slightly as the last blow made her half scream in protest. His hand stilled and began to caress her again and she argued, "I didn't make you watch anything!"

 

"No?" Jack questioned in low tone. "Tom was bad enough. The others were downright insulting."

 

"What others?! There was only Coop for the love of God and you had your slut kill him!"

 

"Only Coop," Jack repeated.

 

"Well, John hardly counts, you know damn well I only let him paw me to trap you," she snapped.

 

Sliding his hand up her back, Jack grabbed Samantha's hair and pulled her head back slightly, in her ear he hissed, "I'm not talking about the clown. You thought I wouldn't know? You thought I was so busy I didn't see you with him when you got your award?"

 

"Rick? He's just the father of one of Chloe's friends," she explained and squirmed in Jack's grasp. "He took me to the dinner, that's all."

 

"Dinner," Jack echoed, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I suppose one might call it that, after all, I believe the slang term for it is eating out."

 

Panic flooded Samantha as she recalled the brief intimacy she'd shared with Rick Webster. She was a little tipsy and Rick was handsome, they'd fooled around and went down on each other. The next morning they were hung over, slightly embarrassed, and decided it would be best if they didn't see each other again. Although she'd thought and hoped that the brief encounter had escaped Jack's detection, it apparently hadn't.

 

"Jack, it was just one time-" she began. Terrified, she demanded, "You haven't hurt him, have you?"

 

"No," Jack affirmed, adding silently, not yet. Releasing Samantha's hair, Jack moved downwards and gave her another hard smack on the rear. In a cool and disapproving tone, he remarked, "I watched you, you know. Taking him back to the firehouse was hardly a wise move my dear."

 

"It was a stupid mistake Jack. It meant nothing."

 

His hand slid between her thighs, caressing her briefly before giving Samantha a series of hard slaps across her backside, venturing some to the backs of her thighs in his blows. Again his hand slid over her fevered sex and this time Jack smacked it lightly making Samantha cry out in shock. As he brought his gloved hand down on the tender flesh, Jack felt pleased and realized he'd been far angrier with Samantha than he'd been aware of.

 

Pausing, he bit out, "You betrayed me."

 

"It was a mistake. I didn't do it to hurt you," Samantha assured him.

 

"Maybe not," Jack agreed, giving her clit a soft caress. Then he growled, "But it doesn't change what you did."

 

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, unsure of what to say as Jack kept her body at a fever pitch. "Damn it Jack, you don't own me!"

 

"Don't I?" Jack taunted. Moving between her thighs, he outlined her pussy with his tongue, making Samantha whimper anxiously. Sliding his mouth upwards, Jack nipped one globe of her ass and then the other. Against her flesh, he rasped, "You belong to me Samantha. Everything you are, every part off you."

 

"Jack, please!" Samantha begged, no longer certain what she was begging for. Her wanton flesh seemed to agree with his words of possession. A gloved finger slid into her wetness, pulling Samantha's sanity away, leaving only desire in it's wake. Vainly Samantha tried to convince herself she'd react this way to any man touching her this way. She couldn't deny the truth as her body thrilled at Jack's explorations, not once had anyone ever made her as aware of her body or made her crave their touch.

 

The slick finger pulled out of her womanhood, only to press into the tight opening between her cheeks. Unthinkingly, Samantha pressed back against Jack's finger, welcoming the new invasion. Never before in her life had she been laid so completely vulnerable as she had today. Jack was taking her over slowly and despite Samantha's struggles, she found herself surrendering to him.

 

Feeling her relax around his finger, Jack reached into the black box and took out a slim stainless steel buttplug. Other than the flared base to hold it in place, the plug was only slightly thicker than his finger. Pulling his finger out of Samantha, Jack traced her lips with the tip of the plug, then pushed the narrow end into her pussy. After sliding it in and out, it was liberally coated with her arousal. Withdrawing the toy from her sex, Jack slid it upwards and pressed it against the cleft of Samantha's ass.

 

Samantha gasped slightly as the plug slid in and Jack's gloved hands slid along the contours of her body to cup her breasts. Her breasts surged anxiously into his hands and she quivered as his mouth brushed the side of her neck and his chest pressed lightly against her back. Needy whimpers fell from her lips without shame as Samantha ached for completion.

 

"You were very naughty, Samantha," Jack admonished gently against her ear.

 

Breathlessly she nodded and apologized, "I'm sorry."

 

"Are you?" Jack questioned, one hand sliding from her breast to her swollen clit.

 

"Yes. Very sorry, Jack."

 

"Tell me again Samantha," he commanded and took his hand from her pussy.

 

"Jack, please," she pleaded. When the much wanted caress didn't return, Samantha continued, "I'm sorry. It was a stupid mistake."

 

"Coop was a mistake as well, wasn't he?" Jack prompted as he unzipped his fly.

 

Samantha was panting too loudly to notice the soft sound as as she readily agreed, "Yes, Coop was a mistake."

 

Sliding his arousal from his pants, Jack insisted in a raspy voice, "Tom was a mistake as well, wasn't he?"

 

"Tom-" Samantha trailed off.

 

Again the gloved fingertip returned to touch her and she felt Jack's cock pressing against her. She knew she had only to refuse to denounce Tom or to say the word no and Jack would stop. Samantha felt as if she were floating out of her body and could look down of the surreal scene, see herself bound and Jack behind her. With a single word she could shatter the scene. But then Samantha realized she didn't want the moment to end, her life felt very distant and hollow in that moment, only Jack made her complete.

 

"Samantha," Jack urged, struggling to restrain himself from taking her right then.

 

"Tom was a mistake," she conceded. Jack was made her real, only when he reflected her could Samantha see herself. Full understanding flooding her, she confessed, "It's always been you Jack, only you."

 

Her words shook Jack to the core. She had given him much more than he'd expected, much sooner. Panting with his own need and assured she was more than ready, Jack pressed his shaft into Samantha's wetness. In a single motion, he buried his length inside her and Samantha arched her head back further and inhaled sharply.

 

"My Samantha," Jack murmured in an awed voice. Wrapping one gloved hand around her waist, his other hand glided over her swollen clit, while he began to move slowly. With each thrust, he nearly pulled out completely, then drove his cock back in to the hilt.

 

Jack's slow and deep possession made Samantha quiver as she moved to meet his thrusts as much as she could within her restraints. As he moved within her, Samantha finally understood what she'd craved for so long, but never could give voice to, the power Jack had and represented and the sensuality that had whispered around the edges of their game. Even as a climax rose up within her, Samantha wanted more, she wanted everything Jack had to offer - the love, the madness, the violence, the power, and every spark of ferocious brilliance contained within him.

 

"Please," Samantha whispered almost inaudibly. "Give me all of you."

 

Any other man would have misunderstood, Jack however, leaned forward and kissed the back of Samantha's neck and questioned, "Are you sure?"

 

His question was punctuated with a hard thrust and Samantha gasped, "Yes!"

 

Taking her by the hips, Jack began to move faster, each movement almost brutal in it's intensity. Beneath him Samantha writhed as he took out years of his unfulfilled passion her body. Although she knew he would make love to her gently one day, right now Samantha craved Jack's cruelty. Merciless and fierce, their coupling couldn't be dressed in words of love, it was fucking in it's purest form. Yet through the frenzied haze of pleasure and violence which made Samantha cry out over and over, only one thought was left in her mind, she loved Jack and everything that came with him.

 

Warmth filled Samantha's sex as Jack came with a growl, but he remained hard. After years of aching to touch Samantha, his desires were far from satisfied. Hard and fast, Jack continued their mating as Samantha arched against him. Leaning forward, Jack pressed his chest against Samantha's back, his mouth sought out the bruise it had left earlier and renewed his claim on her.

 

Moving his mouth to Samantha's ear, Jack vowed softly, "I'll never let you go, Samantha."

 

His possessive words once terrified her, now they both reassured and thrilled her at the same time, she couldn't find words but nodded in agreement as her body quivered furiously. Climax seemed to follow climax until it felt like one unending orgasm, mental and emotional surrender made Samantha powerless to Jack's sexual demands and the needs his touch had awoken in her body. Her voice was nearly gone as screams of pleasure had become soft sobs which seemed to fall non-stop from Samantha's lips.

 

Jack's breathing was ragged and he trembled as he promised in a hoarse voice, "You will kill, my Samantha. Together-"

 

As Jack trailed off, Samantha whimpered, "Together."

 

Both shivered intently as pleasure suffused their bodies and a cry of euphoria rose from them in tandem. Panting dizzily, Samantha felt darkness encompass her and fell limply under Jack. As she fainted, Jack pulled out and took a moment to make certain Samantha was breathing normally. Once he was satisfied she had merely collapsed from the intensity of their mating, Jack gently withdrew the plug from between Samantha's cheeks and placed it back in the box. Then he removed the black leather gloves and returned them as well.

 

Pausing to place his manhood back in his pants and to zip his fly, Jack went into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he withdrew one of the syringes which were lined up on a tray on the top shelf. Samantha had been pliable so far, but Jack intended to maintain his control until she was ready to be reborn. In the living room, he pressed the tip of the needle into Samantha's arm before she could awaken.

 

As Samantha slept, Jack unfastened her restraints and moved her to a more comfortable position on the table. Kissing her tenderly, Jack cleared away the black box which was near the table, but left the first box he'd gotten out when Samantha arrived. Ducking into the bedroom, Jack grabbed a change of clothing out of the closet and carried it into the bathroom. Undressing, he surveyed his pants which had absorbed a great deal of Samantha's arousal.

 

Smiling Jack discarded the remainder of his clothing and got into the shower. As he cleaned up, he replayed Samantha's reaction in his mind and considered how to proceed. While Samantha hadn't refuted him when he said she would kill and she even intimated they would together, Jack didn't know that she was ready quite yet. A little more breaking and then he could show her how to create. Finishing showering, Jack turned off the water and dried off. He paused to run the towel over the two thick steel loops which were on the long back wall of the tub/shower combination.

 

Dressing in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Jack discarded his worn suit in the bedroom and walked back to the bathroom. Opening up the cupboard below the bathroom sink, Jack withdrew two sets of manacles which were made of steel with a thick black vinyl coating to make them waterproof. Attaching one and then the other to the steel loops inside the shower, Jack let them hang down, the other end of each open and waiting.

 

Returning to the living room, Jack gathered Samantha in his arms and carried her into the bathroom. Easing her feet over the edge of the tub, Jack slipped the restraints onto her wrists and then adjusted them over through the steel rings so even unconscious, Samantha was standing upright. Reaching under the sink again, Jack withdrew a set of vinyl ankle restraints which he placed around Samantha's ankles on one end, the other threaded up through the steel loops, pulling her legs apart.

 

Under the sink Jack withdrew a plastic basket which held rose scented shower gel, a bottles of Samantha's favorite shampoo and conditioner, and an ivory bath pouf. Resting the basket on the edge of the tub, Jack grabbed a small flat plastic package from the cupboard under the sink. The package said, lovejet on it and had a picture of a woman in a bathtub on it.

 

Tearing the package open, Jack read the directions, withdrew the small white wand and the coiled hose connected to it, then discarded the packaging. Twisting the end onto the faucet of the sink, Jack turned on the water, flipped the switch on the wand and watched as a gentle mist came from the tip. Flipping the switch off, Jack placed it in the sink for later and turned off the water.

 

Reaching inside the shower, Jack removed Samantha's blindfold and laid it aside, he'd need it again later. Pulling on the the handheld shower from it's holder, Jack rinsed Samantha's body and let the water soak her hair. Once her hair was completely wet, Jack began to shampoo Samantha's hair, then rinsed it. Conditioner followed shampoo and Jack turned the water off after rinsing her hair a final time. Gently, almost reverently he toweled her hair mostly dry, leaned in to kiss her, then replaced her blindfold.

 

Turning the water on again, Jack then took the ivory pouf and traced Samantha's body, leaving a trail of rose scented bubbles in it's wake. As he washed her, Samantha began to stir slightly and Jack knew she would be awake soon. He'd only given her enough Versed to render her unconscious for about an hour. At last the restraints moved slightly and Jack smiled.

 

"Samantha," Jack purred. "I brought you into the bathroom, I thought you might like me to clean you up."

 

"Thank you, Jack," she mumbled in slight confusion. Last thing Samantha vaguely remembered was being dizzy, so she asked, "What happened?"

 

"You fainted, nothing to worry about," Jack soothed. Continuing to gently wash Samantha he added, "The french do not refer to it as le petit mort for nothing."

 

"The little death," Samantha translated and relaxed as much as she could within her restraints. Maybe later she would ask if Jack would remove them, but for now she felt comfortable standing and having Jack wash her. The sponge skimmed along her sex and Samantha gasped involuntarily.

 

Concerned, Jack paused and questioned, "Did I hurt you?"

 

"No, I'm fine. Just still very-" Samantha blushed and trailed off.

 

"Relax, Samantha. Just let me take care of you."

 

Doing as instructed, Samantha closed her eyes behind the blindfold. The steady and delicate motion of the bath pouf continued, then stopped, only to be replaced by a warm cascade of water from the shower head as Jack slid it across her flesh. Despite the gentleness of the water, Samantha couldn't help quivering as it passed over her sex. Her body tingled and she found herself wishing she could give voice to her desire.

 

Noting her reaction, Jack teased, "So far to fall in a single day my Samantha. You fainted earlier from pleasure and now your body is screaming for more."

 

"I'm sorry-"

 

"Don't apologize," Jack interrupted. "Never apologize for your desires. Gods do not apologize."

 

Samantha remained silent, she was unsure of what to say. Her body seemed to be aching still and even if Jack approved, Samantha was unused to being so visceral. Their game had taken place for so long in the abstract and only with the dark and deadly side of the flesh, that she felt almost as apprehensive as she did exhaultant as Jack lead her into the carnal side of the game.

 

Watching her body's reactions, Jack finished rinsing Samantha and replaced the shower head and turned off the water. Moving to the sink, Jack turned the faucet on and took the wand in his hand. Flipping the switch, a soft mist came out and Jack traced it over Samantha until he came to the juncture between Samantha's thighs. Touching a second switch the gentle mist became a more focused stream and he watched as Samantha arched to better position her clit.

 

A shudder rippled through Samantha and she groaned as she lost control over her body and pleasure wracked her once more. But the water jet didn't move and Samantha barely caught her breath from one climax when another ripped through her. The water continued to pulsate against the swollen pink pearl at the top of her heated slit, eliciting more cries from Samantha.

 

"Jack! I- I c-can't-" she stammered breathlessly. It felt wonderful, but she'd cum so many times her abdomen felt sore from contracting so many times.

 

"But you will," Jack vowed. Samantha had hidden from herself for so long and clung to safety, but no more. Taking her past her limits on physical pleasure would help him break Samantha and to recreate her. Every climax was a step further into his world, even if she didn't realize it.

 

Holding the wand over her sex, Jack watched in fascination as her lips became swollen and seemed almost to pout in protest. Relentlessly, the water pounded against Samantha's enflamed pussy. Several times, she tried to shift away from the aqueous assault, but in her restraints there was little room for movement. Her body convulsed with pleasure helplessly as Jack moved the water wand over Samantha's tender flesh.

 

"I- can't take anymore," Samantha stuttered.

 

"Shall I stop?" Jack inquired in an amused tone.

 

Samantha didn't answer, but mewled as Jack guided the water against her and coaxed her to another peak. Over and over she climaxed and claimed she couldn't take it. Time and again Jack would ask if he should stop, but Samantha couldn't bring herself to demand he stop. Shudder after shudder coursed through her, even with the blindfold, Samantha knew just from the sensation her sex was swollen from her prolonged state of arousal.

 

Although she knew Jack likely wouldn't quit until she either insisted her cease or she collapsed, Samantha couldn't and didn't want to stop. Wave after orgasmic wave crested and crashed into the next. Cries of rapture fell from her lips without pause until her voice began to falter and she wailed incoherently as she writhed in sweet agony. When Samantha finally fell limp in her restraints, Jack leaned forward and kissed her ripe and swollen lips briefly.

 

Still savoring her taste on his tongue, Jack went to the refrigerator and got out another syringe. Returning to the bathroom, he injected Samantha to prolong her unconscious state, then he unfastened her ankle restraints and then her wrist restraints. Picking her up, Jack carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed, bundled in several towels. He went into the living room and collapsed the black leather table and put it away in the bedroom closet once again.

 

Bringing up the lights which were on a dimmer switch before going outside, Jack went to the van and smoked another cigarette. Evening was approaching and he watched as lights came on and off in various apartments in the complex. Although the other buildings of the complex had tenants, the building he'd taken Samantha to was unoccupied. One of his holding companies owned the complex and Jack had leased the apartments in one building to various aliases of his. Good thing, Jack thought and smiled to himself as he replayed the day's events in his head and exhaled smoke thoughtfully.

 

Finishing his cigarette, Jack headed back inside, washed his hands and brushed his teeth again. Although he had smoked for years and was good about avoiding smoker's breath, he did fear in the back of his mind that his goddess might one day demand he give it up. Picking up Samantha's discarded clothing and purse from the living room, Jack brought it into the bedroom and lovingly redressed Samantha. Removing her blindfold, he removed cosmetics from purse and skillfully applied them to her face. When he was satisfied with the effect, Jack tied Samantha's blindfold back in place.

 

Lifting Samantha from the bed, Jack carried her back to the living room and laid her face down on the black wedge so the narrow end pointed to her knees and Samantha's chest and head were raised. Binding her wrists with the cuffs he'd first put on her, but leaving her ankles unbound, Jack left Samantha in position. He went to the bedroom closet again and brought back to the living room a large black PVC tarp and a straight back black chair. After spreading the tarp across the floor in front of Samantha, Jack then positioned the chair facing her.

 

Jack checked his watch, gave Samantha a kiss, then left and locked the apartment. Going to the van, Jack grabbed the laptop and brought it up into the front seat. He brought Samantha up on the monitor and traced his finger over her image before sitting the computer on the passenger seat and starting the van.

 

"Time to pick up our guests," Jack declared and pulled out of the apartment complex parking lot...

 

---

Chapter 3

Navigating through the streets of Atlanta as the sun was setting, Jack made his way to the neat complex of doctor's offices nestled beside the hospital. Selecting a parking space, he glanced at Samantha again on the screen then got into the back of the van. Opening the top trunk, Jack withdrew a set of scrubs and slipped them on. Adding a scrub hat and a fake ID badge, he would blend easily. Taking a rag and bottle of chloroform, he slipped them into the pockets of his scrubs, closed the trunk and pulled it from the van.

 

Sitting the trunk on the ground, Jack closed the door of the van and slid the trunk on it's wheels into one of the small doctors office buildings. A quick check of his watch told him his quarry would be done with her last patient and would just be completing her notes and getting ready to leave. Maneuvering the trunk, Jack stopped at the office of Dr. Melinda Gillespie.

 

Taking the chloroform and rag from his pocket, Jack held them away from him as he soaked the rag with chloroform. Opening the office door, Jack slid the trunk into the waiting room, which lay empty. He knew from surveillance that the secretary left when the last patient went in for their appointment.

 

Knocking on the office door, Jack waited. The door opened and the woman gave him a puzzled look but looked unalarmed as he hesitated, "Dr. Gillespie?"

 

"Yes," the red haired old woman answered.

 

In a swift movement, Jack brought grabbed Melinda and pressed the chloroform soaked rag to her mouth. For several minutes she struggled against him, then she fell limp and Jack sat her on the floor. Opening the trunk, he pulled a cloth gag out which hung from the handcuffs which were mounted inside. He forced the gag into Melinda's mouth, then folded her slack form into the trunk and secured it with the cuffs before closing the lid. Jack slid the air vent in the top open and wheeled the trunk out of the office and placed it in the back of the van.

 

Climbing into the driver's seat, Jack anxiously picked up the laptop and smiled when he was assured Samantha was all right. Kissing the screen lightly, Jack vowed, "Soon my Samantha."

 

Pulling out of the parking lot, Jack headed to towards the skyscrapers of downtown Atlanta where the corporate world plotted and planned. At last he came to the building he'd studied and surveyed for the past several weeks. Driving into the office's underground parking garage, Jack parked and climbed once more into the back of the van. He opened the second trunk, pulling out a uniform shirt and a baseball cap with a fringe of long dishwater blonde hair hanging from it. Divesting himself of the scrubs, Jack added the blue uniform shirt over his t-shirt and jeans, then toped the look off with the baseball cap.

 

Taking a pair of industrial gloves from the trunk before shutting it, Jack was ready. Through the parking garage, Jack wheeled the trunk to the elevator and waited for his floor. Rick Webster would be putting in his last late night at his law firm tonight, Jack thought with a smile. Samantha was his and no one had the right to touch her but him. He looked at his watch, the cleaning crew would have finished with the floor he was headed for approximately twenty minutes before.

 

The elevator beeped as it came to a stop and the doors opened. Jack guided the trunk into the corridor and opened the door of the law firm where Rick Webster was putting in late nights in an effort to make partner. Silently, Jack moved through the waiting area and towards Rick Webster's office. Pausing, he poured more chloroform onto the rag before continuing to his destination. The office door was open and Jack stood in the doorway and cleared his throat.

 

After several moments, Rick sighed in annoyance and looked up from his work, "Yes?"

 

"That black Mercedes in the garage is yours right?"

 

"Yes," Rick affirmed in clipped accent.

 

"You might want to take a look at it boss. Looks like someone scratched 'er pretty good," Jack lied.

 

Rising quickly from his desk, Rick headed out the door and swore, "God damn it! I just got it two months ago!"

 

Jack waited until Rick shoved past him, before tackling him to the floor and holding the chloroform over his mouth. For several minutes Rick fought hard to push Jack off and to stand, but he was no match for Jack's experiece and soon he collapsed limply on the floor. Opening the wheeled trunk he'd brought, Jack pulled out a gag for Rick's mouth and also a pair of ankle cuffs which were dangling from the handcuffs which were attached inside. Since Rick was physically stronger than Melinda, Jack took the additional precaution to keep his captive under control.

 

Once Jack had the unconscious man cuffed inside the trunk, Jack shut it and wheeled it through the office and onto the elevator. In the parking garage Jack shook his head in amusement as he steered the trunk past the gleaming Mercedes he'd followed many times since the night Samantha had ridden in it. When he got to the van, Jack slung the trunk into the back, then divested himself of the uniform shirt, gloves, and the baseball cap.

 

Getting into the van, Jack checked on Samantha lingering over the monitor briefly before starting the engine and blazing away from the parking garage. Jack turned the CD player one and hummed softly along as he drove. At a traffic light, Jack looked at his watch, he had an hour to get back to the apartment and set up before Samantha would wake up. A few minutes later, Jack pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex and backed the van into a parking space near the apartment.

 

Casting a glance around the parking lot as he got out of the van, Jack went to the apartment door and unlocked it before returning to the van. He opened the back of van and pulled out one of the trunk, swiftly, he wheeled it to the door and placed it inside the apartment. A couple minutes later, Jack had the second trunk inside and the door safely locked behind him. Wheeling the heavier of the trunks into the bedroom, Jack rummaged in the closet for a leather bag which he brought out and laid on top of the lighter trunk which he moved into the center of the living room before moving to Samantha.

 

Kneeling down Jack kissed Samantha's forehead and murmured, "Soon my Samantha. Soon you will understand your omnipotence."

 

Reluctantly, Jack turned his attention from Samantha to the nearby trunk. He took the black leather bag off the top of the trunk before opening it. Melinda Gillespie was still unconscious as Jack then opened the black leather bag and withdrew a pair of rubber gloves. Although he'd done this many times before, having Samantha present made his heart race. His hands encased in gloves, he withdrew a long orange electrical cord, Jack began to bind Melinda with the speed and precision of many years practice.

 

Satisfied with the bindings, Jack adjusted the gag and went outside to smoke another cigarette in the van. Even though he owned the building, he tried to avoid leaving behind any evidence of his presence. Before he took Samantha away from the building, he would run the water in the faucet in the tub/shower combination for roughly an hour and add caustic chemicals to ensure he'd left no hair in the drain. Later he would go over the apartment with a blacklight and ensure all fingerprints were wiped clean. Jack hadn't remained free to play his game by being careless.

 

After finishing his cigarette, Jack went back inside. This time he settled for rinsing his mouth with mouthwash and skipped washing his hands since the rubber gloves protected his fingers from any nicotine residue. Returning to the living room, he sat down beside Samantha and idly ran his gloved fingers through her hair. Several feet away, Melinda stirred and her eyes opened wide as she became aware of her predicament.

Jack put a finger to his lips and hushed her, "Shh. Samantha isn't awake yet. But don't worry, she'll join us very soon."

 

Staring at her captor, the older woman made a series of muffled sounds into the gag. Knowing she wanted an explanation and knowing the effect it would have, Jack introduced himself, "I'm Jack. We're just waiting for Samantha. I'd wake her but she's had an exhausting day."

 

Melinda's eyes went wide with fear as she looked down at the orange electrical cord that wrapped around her feet and doubtlessly was what restrained her hands behind her as well. Between Sam consulting her and being counseled by her, she had no illusions about the man who stroked Sam's hair and sat quietly. She struggled vainly, then settled for looking angrily as Jack caressed the unconscious blonde.

 

"Despite her restraints, I assure you Samantha is here by choice," Jack reassured her, noting the disapproving look that melded with her fear. When disbelief went through the old woman's eyes, he said, "You've been worried about Samantha for a while now. When Lucas was arrested you probably breathed a sigh of relief, no more Jack to lure Sam into his world. What you never realized is that Samantha was already in my world, she just needed to find the courage to look in the mirror and to admit who she is and that she is already in my world."

 

Closing her eyes, Melinda hoped that Jack was wrong and that some divine intervention would save them both and that Sam would say she'd been coerced. But try as she might, Melinda couldn't shake the image of Sam's anger over Jack's Jill that had flared up during a session. Sam had sounded like a jealous lover, not an agent in those moments. Her insight into the mind made her as vulnerable as she was brilliant and the dark romantic quality that permeated Jack's twisted games may indeed have slowly worked their way into Sam's mind.

 

Patiently, Jack waited beside Samantha watching for signs of her waking up. Ignoring Melinda as she struggled with the idea Samantha was there willingly, he enjoyed studying her. After so many years of watching from a distance with only stolen moments in her presence, Jack relished Samantha's nearness. Pulling a pair of black leather gloves from the bag, he pulled them on over the rubber gloves and stroked her cheek. She began to stir and Jack smiled as she awoke.

 

Rousing slightly, Samantha mumbled, "Jack?"

 

"Samantha," Jack purred softly.

 

Despite the limitations imposed by her restraints, Samantha nuzzled her head against Jack's hand and gave him a confused smile as she asked, "What happened?"

 

"You fainted and fell asleep."

 

"Guess you wore me out," Samantha blushed. Melinda's eyes flew open and she looked on in horror as Sam confided, "I've never felt so-"

 

Jack kissed Samantha and whispered against her mouth, "Alive."

 

"Yes," she nodded and returned his kiss. When she tried to reach for Jack and couldn't Samantha requested, "Later on will you unfasten my wrists and take off the blindfold, please?"

 

"Of course," Jack agreed.

 

"Good," Samantha sighed contentedly. "I want to see your handsome face again and I want-"

 

When she trailed off, Jack prompted, "You want-"

 

Shyly Samantha murmured, "You. I want to touch you."

 

Jack groaned and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. He forgot about their captive audience for a moment as tenderness and joy swelled up within him. For many years he'd fantasized about Samantha speaking to him with love and desire, tonight his dreams seemed to be taking shape.

 

"Oh, Samantha," Jack breathed. His emotions in turmoil, he caressed her lips with his leather clad finger. It took every ounce of his control not to abandon his plans and to take her to his lair and make love to her until dawn. But Samantha had to prove her loyalty and they had guests, Jack reminded himself casting an irritated glance at Melinda. Even if it was accidental, he hated having her witness such a private moment with his Samantha. Killing the old woman who watched with fear and disgust, would be a pleasure.

 

"Jack?" Samantha implored when he'd pulled back and remained silent for several minutes.

 

"Sweet Samantha, do you realize how close you are to realizing your omnipotence?" Jack demanded in a sibilant tone. Tracing his gloved hand along her back, Jack then reached under Samantha's skirt and touched her inner thigh. When she gasped, he commanded, "Tell me. Do you want me?"

 

"I want you Jack," Samantha answered and shivered slightly as his fingertips brushed her sex.

 

"Why do you want me?" Jack pressed.

 

In a breathless voice Samantha replied, "Because you're brilliant and I love our games. I love what you do to me and what you've done for me."

 

Touching her wetness, he suggested, "Like the lives I sacrificed for you?"

 

"Yes," she whispered almost inaudibly, but both Jack and Melinda heard her admission.

"I will make further sacrifices for you my angel," Jack promised and caressed her until her breath was coming in shallow pants. "Will you do the same for me? Will you take lives and create for me?"

 

"You know I will," Samantha assured him. "Killing Sharon was as much for you as it was for me. I can admit that now."

 

"Such a good girl," Jack praised Samantha. Withdrawing his hand from her skirt, despite her whimper of protest, Jack gave her a gentle kiss. "Later I'll show you how pleased I am, but first I need to see to our guest."

 

Then Jack removed Samantha's blindfold. He pulled the leather gloves off revealing the medical gloves underneath as he studied Samantha. It took several moments for her to get used to the light after being blindfolded for so many hours. Then as her vision cleared up, she looked first in disbelief then in embarrassment at Melinda.

Jack reached inside his black leather bag and laid out an assortment of sharp knives, then said conversationally, "You remember Dr. Gillespie, don't you Samantha?"

 

"Melinda," Samantha mouthed and turned red. "How long-"

 

"Only for the last hour while you slept," Jack soothed. "I wasn't about to let anyone watch us earlier."

 

Flushing a deeper shade of crimson, Samantha considered what to say. Even though Melinda hadn't been around for long, she'd witnessed enough to guess what had transpired between them sexually and to know Samantha was there willingly. Embarrassment turned to annoyance as she realized Melinda as speculating about her intimacy with Jack and was judging her.

 

Jack noticed the way Samantha's eyes narrowed and suppressed a grin. Samantha was reacting exactly as he'd hoped. If she weren't his completely, she might have directed her displeasure at him for allowing Melinda to witness Samantha in her position. The bulk of her anger was directed at the older woman. It was time to push things further and so Jack pulled the gag from Melinda Gillespie's mouth.

"Oh Sam," she sighed in a censorious tone. "How could you?"

 

Remaining mute, Jack watched Samantha for her reaction. For her part, Samantha kept silent as she studied Melinda as continued, "Sam, this isn't what you want and it isn't who you are. I know you've felt alone, but this isn't the answer, Sam. You've been through so much..."

 

Funny, Samantha thought. At one time Melinda had seemed very important and commanded her respect. Now her recriminations and efforts to analyze her, angered Samantha. Over and over Melinda called her Sam and tried to convince her she was wrong. What was so wrong about loving Jack? Time and again the older woman mentioned Chloe and Tom in an attempt to change her mind. What was so wrong with her mind? Looking at Jack and the knives near his hand she began to wish he would use one to silence Melinda.

 

"... tell Jack to untie us both. We'll go see Chloe. I'm sure your daughter is worried about you," Melinda rambled a hint of desperation in her voice. "You're not like him Sam. Whatever he says you're not like him. You're not a killer, Sam."

"Aren't I? What about Sharon Lesher?"

 

"It was self defense! You had to shoot her," Melinda explained in a tone one might use with a young child. "You're a good mother. You can put it behind you, Sam. You can put all of today behind you, Sam."

 

Fury welled up in Samantha and she hissed, "Stop calling me that! It's Samantha."

"Sam er Samantha, you need help. Chloe would want you to get help," she suggested.

An unintelligible scream rose up in Samantha, then she spat out, "Enough! Stop talking to me about what Chloe would want! What about what I want?!"

 

"Okay Sam," Melinda placated, "What do you want?"

 

"What do I want?" Samantha echoed in a venomous tone. "Jack. Jack's what I want."

"Jack isn't good for you. It's unhealthy-"

 

"So what!" Samantha snapped.

 

"We're talking about a serial killer, not eating too much junk food," Melinda persisted.

 

Samantha's head was starting to hurt from trying to listen to Melinda and she entreated, "Jack, please make her stop."

 

"Of course," Jack said agreeably and pressed the gag back into the red head's mouth.

 

"Thank you, " Samantha told him sulkily.

 

For a moment he watched Samantha's stormy expression, then asked, "What's wrong?"

 

"I don't like the way she's looking at me, like there's something wrong with me."

"Do you feel guilty?" Jack inquired.

 

Perplexed she countered, "Why would I feel guilty?"

 

"Because I'm going to kill her," Jack replied and studied her expression.

 

"Oh," Samantha said. "Not particularly. Was I supposed to? I should feel guilty. Jack what's wrong with me?"

 

Samantha's lower lip quavered slightly and her eyes teared. Instantly, Jack moved away from Melinda to comfort Samantha. Jack unfastened her restraints and took her in his arms. For a moment, the older woman looked hopeful, then crestfallen as Samantha snuggled against Jack. Samantha wanted to be with Jack, but why didn't she feel badly when she knew she should feel that way?

 

"You don't feel guilt because her life is meaningless-"

 

Looking up at Jack, Samantha demanded, "Have I lost my mind? What's happened to me? Am I insane?"

 

"Samantha, you're the same person tonight that you were this morning and as such the question of sanity is moot. Your perceptions have changed because you finally can see yourself accurately," Jack explained patiently.

 

"I suppose," she agreed after considering his words. The outside world would say she was insane for loving Jack and embracing what he represented, but for the first time in her life she felt content. Pretending to be someone she wasn't and living a life of misery and fear was crazy, Samantha decided. For better or worse, Jack's world was where she belonged. Brushing aside her concerns, she smiled at Jack.

 

"Everything okay?"

 

"Yes. But I'm a bit thirsty," Samantha told him.

 

"Would you like more orange juice or something else?" Jack asked and kissed her forehead before standing up.

 

"Juice is fine. Thank you, Jack."

 

Leaving her with Melinda, Jack went into the kitchen to get Samantha's juice. While he was gone, the old woman pleaded silently with Samantha who watched her with unconcerned detachment. Jack returned with a glass and handed it to Samantha. He moved to where Melinda sat and picked up one of the knives. As he made the first cut into the red head's shoulder, Samantha sat calmly sipping her juice.

 

Deftly, Jack made the knife glide over Melinda's flesh in slow precise movements. Sometimes he would make a slice in her flesh. Then he made a few tentative stabs. Melinda sobbed and screamed into the gag as Jack worked. Blood ran from her upper body and pooled on the tarp. The last thing Melinda saw before died was Samantha drinking her orange juice and watching Jack with a tender expression on her face.

When he was finished, Jack turned and asked Samantha, "What would you like for dinner?"

 

"Chinese sounds good."

 

"Let me clean up and then I'll call in an order," Jack told her.

 

Untying the orange electrical cord, Jack eased Melinda from the chair and laid her on the plastic. He carried the chair to the kitchen and wiped it down with a rag. Leaving the chair, Jack returned to the livingroom. Cleaning his knife on Melinda's shirt, he put it away in the black leather bag, then wrapped her body in the plastic tarp tightly and sat it in the corner.

 

Taking his rubber gloves off and washing his hands, Jack took a cell phone from his jacket he'd worn when he met up with Samantha in the mall. She wasn't surprised when he dialed her favorite chinese restaurant and ordered her usual. Of course Jack would know, he knew everything about her, didn't he?

 

"Half an hour," Jack told her as he hung up. "Would you like to go with me or would you prefer to stay here?"

 

Samantha stood up and slid her feet into her high heels which he'd discarded earlier and answered, "With you."

 

Soon they were driving through the streets of Atlanta in the convertible and the warm night air swirled around them. Neither said anything, but Samantha took Jack's right arm at a stop light and wrapped it around her shoulder as she slid closer to him. As they drove to the restaurant, Samantha watched people as they sped past them. It was as if she was seeing the world for the first time. And in a sense she was, Samantha realized as she reached up and traced a small dried brown bloodspot that marred Jack's t-shirt from earlier.

 

When they arrived at the restaurant, Samantha felt disappointed but understood when Jack had her remain in the car. The risqué outfit coupled with the bruises Jack's lips had left on her throat, gave her an overly provocative appearance. Later she would have to see about something more appropriate to wear. The black dress wasn't exactly her, but then Samantha couldn't envision returning to the firehouse and getting her old clothes either.

 

Jack came out with a large brown paper bag which held fragrant white boxes of food and sat it in the backseat. Sitting beside Samantha, Jack kissed her hand then stroked it softly as he inquired, "Miss me?"

 

"Yes," she told him truthfully. As he started the car and began to drive back, she admitted, "It does seem a little odd to calmly be getting dinner when I've just watched you kill someone I knew."

 

"Samantha, it's dinner time and you're hungry. What difference does it make if it's just after I killed someone?"

 

"I liked Melinda," Samantha insisted. Then made a face and demanded, "You don't eat during killing someone do you?"

 

"No. Although very often afterwards, it takes energy to create," Jack grinned. His face became serious as they approached a stop light and he looked at her as he murmured, "I know Melinda was someone you cared about. But that's why I chose her, Samantha. A stranger wouldn't suffice. In time you'll understand."

 

Uncertainty filled her and she asked shakily, "Will I have to kill people I know?"

"Yes," Jack confirmed. "A sacrifice has no meaning if it's not a sacrifice. But I promise Chloe will remain safe. I won't ask you for that."

 

"I thought I was a lousy mother," Samantha flung back.

 

"So you are. But Chloe is a part of you, so I won't ask it," Jack said. Then teased gently, "Unless you really want to, of course."

 

They arrived back at the apartment complex and Jack put the top up on the convertible before carrying the food and guiding Samantha inside. He left her for a minute to dash out to the van and retrieve one of the roses. Almost shyly, he held it out to Samantha, "It's one of mine."

 

Samantha accepted it and Jack beamed with pleasure. She sat down on the floor and suggested, "Let's eat here instead of at the bar, that way we can be closer."

 

Sitting on the floor, the couple dined from the boxes with chopsticks. As they ate, they paused to periodically gaze at one another. Mid-way through dinner, Samantha commanded, "Tell me about you. You've been stalking me for years-"

 

"I wasn't stalking, I was being attentive," Jack teased and tried to avoid her request. In time Samantha would learn more about him, but he felt nervous discussing himself.

 

"Very attentive," she giggled. Then repeated, "Tell me about yourself."

 

Sighing, Jack asked, "What do you want to know?"

 

"Well, how about your family? What are they like?"

 

"I was the only child of wealthy parents. My father died and left me a fortune which I've since increased tenfold. I support my mother- she's not well," Jack shrugged.

"But what about you? Not what you do, but-"

 

Sitting his dinner aside, he closed his eyes and confessed, "Lonely. That's what you really want to know Samantha, and likely what you've known all along. All my life, I've been alone. Even in a crowd of people, I've always been alone."

 

"And me?"

 

"I loved you the moment I saw you because I could see you were the same. I thought if we were together-" Jack trailed off his voice thick with emotion as he turned his head away from her.

 

"That you wouldn't be alone anymore," Samantha whispered and turned his face toward hers. Pressing her lips to his, she promised, "We're together now. You'll never be alone again. I promise."

 

Jack returned her kiss and fought the urge to weep as her arms wound tightly around him. While every moment of the wait had been well worth it, there had been many painful years of solitude while he waited. Being so close to Samantha and doing something as simple as eating take out was something out of his fantasies and his nerves felt like they would shatter.

 

Gradually their kiss ended and they resumed their meal. Knowing she'd pushed Jack as far as she dared for a while, Samantha inquired, "What happens next?"

 

"Fortune cookies," Jack informed her and popped a bite of his chicken into her mouth.

 

After she'd swallowed the bite, Samantha clarified, "I meant the rest of the evening. You're the one who's had everything planned out for years."

 

"You'll have to wait and see. I may have taken the cuffs off you, but you still haven't proven yourself to me. This is a dinner break Samantha. Omnipotence is almost yours, but you'll have to realize your potential to seize it."

 

His words left little doubt in Samantha's mind about what he intended for her to do. She would be expected to kill. Likely he had a victim in mind already and it was someone connected to her. As they ate their dinner, someone's death loomed closer with each bite. With a single act she would commit herself to Jack's world more completely than any marriage ceremony might have. The thought was terrible and wonderful at the same time and Samantha felt nervous and uncertain.

 

Dinner ended and Jack gathered the containers. As he carried them into the kitchen, he told Samantha, "Put your stockings and and underwear on, I want you dressed. Our other guest is waiting and I don't want him to see you like this."

 

Mechanically, Samantha pulled on her stockings and then her panties, as Jack had commanded. She slid her feet into her high heels and waited uneasily while Jack brought a large black trunk out of the bedroom. Without him even opening it, Samantha knew someone she knew was inside. He disappeared into the bedroom again and returned with a large box wrapped in rose print paper.

 

"Open it," Jack instructed, handing her the box.

 

His expression was so eager, Samantha had to suppress a smile despite her tension and laid the box on the chair where Melinda had sat earlier. Pulling the paper away, she found a white gift box inside. She lifted the lid to reveal the contents. Inside was a black leather bag, much like the one that house Jack's knives; but whereas his bag had the appearance of being many years old, this bag was quite new.

 

Taking out the bag, Samantha stared at it. The smooth leather piece was heavy in her hands and appeared to have something inside. On the bag was a small piece of brushed gold medal which was engraved with the initials, S.T. Samantha Trades, she thought and slid the zipper back . Inside were a pair of black leather gloves and an assortment of sharp looking implements.

 

"Allow me," Jack said and took the bag from her. Brushing the box and wrapping from the chair sat the bag down and took the gloves out. Taking her right hand, Jack eased one of the gloves on and murmured, "Samantha."

 

As he put on the left one, Samantha gazed away from Jack nervously. Her eyes traced the initials on the bag then slid to the glove Jack was placing on her hand. He was trembling as he placed smoothed the glove onto her hand. Looking into his eyes, she saw they were full of emotion. Like a groom at his wedding she thought, then her eyes widened as understanding dawned on her. Jack considered her his bride, the engraving on the bag and the murder he intended her to commit were a commitment ceremony of sorts.

 

Samantha gasped softly, she felt like she couldn't breath. Mistaking her intake of breath for pleasure, Jack beamed at her and moved to his black leather bag. He took his gloves out and slid them onto his hands. As he did, he was saying something to her about a marriage of minds and being together always, but Samantha couldn't process the words.

 

Then Jack moved towards the trunk and turned his back to Samantha. She took a step back slowly, then another. He turned around as she bumped the doorknob and yelped. The smile fell from his face and he looked at her uncertainly.

 

"Samantha?"

 

"Jack, I-"

 

Panic flooding her, Samantha turned around. She couldn't stay. Jack wanted so much and wanted her to be something which was so terrifying, even if it was simply to be her true self. Unable to stem the torrent of fear, she opened the door and ran off into the night.

 

As Samantha was left, Jack cried out in agony, "Samantha!"

 

---

Chapter 4

Although he only said her name one time, the tortured sound of his voice reverberated in her ears over and over. Not sure where she was running to, Samantha continued her awkward sprint in her towering high heels. After a couple blocks she paused to see if Jack was following her, but there was no sign of him. Her shadow nowhere in sight, she slowed her pace. Where should she go? Samantha wondered. She'd left her purse and cell phone behind, not that she could think of anyone she wanted to call. Uncertain of where she was headed, Samantha wandered aimlessly.

 

Jack stood in the doorway of the apartment staring into the night as Samantha roamed the streets of Atlanta. He'd been so close to realizing his dreams and in a single moment they dissolved. Upset, Jack went out to the flower van and grabbed his cigarettes and his laptop. Bringing them into the apartment, he set the laptop on the bar between the kitchen and the living room.

 

Lighting a cigarette, Jack jerked open a drawer in the kitchen and brought out a crystal ashtray which he sat down carelessly beside the computer. Then he grabbed a glass from one of the cupboards and a bottle of Jack Daniels. His hand shook as he poured a glass and drank it rapidly as he perched his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray.

 

Only slightly more steady, he poured a second glass and sat down at the bar. Pulling off his leather gloves, Jack then turned on his computer. His fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard and he began to rifle through the various cameras which he could usually pick up Samantha's movements.

 

Would she run to Bailey and give away his location and cry to Malone about the death of her other mentor? The VCTF cameras indicated all was calm. Maybe Samantha had gone home, perhaps she wanted to change clothes and scrub away all evidence of his touch? But as he scanned through all the cameras at the firehouse, all was calm. Maybe just maybe she was on her way back, small flame of hope flickered and died as he flicked a glance over the gift she'd abandoned. The only thing Samantha would probably return for was her purse.

 

Taking a puff of his cigarette, Jack closed his eyes as he held the smoke and then exhaled slowly. For the first time in many years, he fought the urge to cry. Having Samantha so close to him, to have finally touched her and loved her, made her leaving hurt worse than any bullet she could have fired at him. Drinking most of the contents from his glass, the setting aside the glass and cigarette, Jack stood up and picked up the black bag he'd given Samantha.

 

The scent of leather was strong but couldn't quite mask the scent of their earlier passion the room had witnessed. Looking at the bag, his eyes traced and retraced the initials that were inscribed on the bag. He'd picked it out and had it inscribed with great care. The day he gave it to Samantha, Jack had always imagined would be the happiest day of his life. Sitting the bag aside, Jack bent down to pick up the rose Samantha had taken from him earlier.

 

His hand closed around the flower, thorns dug into his palm and petals cascaded to the floor as he whispered hoarsely, "You promised I would never be alone again."

 

While Jack stood in the apartment, Samantha's feet were beginning to hurt and she sat down on a bench at a bus stop. Sitting on the hard surface, she shifted uneasily as a dull ache rose up and reminded her of the spanking Jack had given her earlier. She closed her eyes and tried vainly to block out the thoughts which began to rise up.

Behind her eyelids, Jack's face swam before her and again she heard his cry as she left. Why did it bother her so much? Jack had hurt her many times and taken so many people from her, she mentally parroted. But even as she forced the thought, Samantha couldn't make herself believe it any longer.

 

Her eyes snapped open as a small group of people walked past. One by one, her eyes traveled over them. Then Samantha gasped as she realized she was looking at them as a predator would their prey. She had unconsciously been assessing them for weaknesses and whether they were a threat. Before she would have looked at them and envied their innocence to the darkness that lurked in the minds of the twisted souls she dealt with everyday. Yet hadn't she been on the verge of becoming one of those twisted souls? Samantha chided herself wryly.

 

A paunchy man with thinning hair in a grease stained shirt paused to look at her appreciatively. Fury rose up inside her and he shot him a withering glance when he began to move towards her. Almost fearfully, the man changed his direction and scuttled off.

 

How dare even look at her! Samantha thought angrily. Such an inferior excuse of a human being. Ordinarily she would have either been mildly irritated and suppressed it or felt frightened. Fear had ruled much of her life. Samantha tried to muster indignation and blame Jack, but she couldn't blame him any longer. Deep down, she'd always known that he never would harm her.

 

Pulling Samantha from her thoughts, a drop of moisture hit her face and then another as it began to rain. Although there were several bars nearby she could have ducked into, she didn't want to be around people. Instead, she stood up and began to walk back in the direction she'd come from and took refuge under a large red awning that spanned across the front of a business.

 

Standing under the awning, Samantha felt a bubble of laughter well up and then die as she looked in the store's window. She was standing in front of a large display of deep red roses with a sign that read, say you love her with roses. The roses were beautiful, but the roses Jack grew in his unique choice of fertilizer were superior. Looking at them, she couldn't help comparing them to the rose Jack had given her earlier.

 

Again, Samantha felt a surge of pain tugging at her heart. Jack had looked so pleased when she'd taken the rose from him. Serial killers were supposed to be boring like Donald Lucas, not a thrilling mixture of dangerous and endearing like her Jack. Her Jack? Where did that come from? Samantha wondered. But then he'd been hers from the moment she discovered his case.

 

Turning away from the window, Samantha spied another awning a block away and decided to make a run for it. She couldn't bear being so close to the display of roses. As she headed for the awning, she had to stop for traffic at the intersection. Waiting to cross, Samantha caught a glimpse of her distorted reflection in a puddle of water that had collected and a streetlight illuminated.

 

When she made her way to the green awning she'd spied, tears filled her eyes as she saw her face in the shining window glass. It was a wilderness supply store which wouldn't have bothered her had it not been for the large display of wicked looking knives before her. Lifting her hand to brush away the tears, Samantha found herself staring at the black leather glove Jack had slid on earlier.

 

Samantha stood frozen as she studied her hand. For so long she'd tried to deny the part of herself Jack wanted to reflect. Although she'd claimed to hate him for what he did, what Samantha had hated was her fear of who she was and had the potential to become. Hiding behind a polite mask had always been the safe choice. But then she'd finally looked into the mirror Jack held up for her and Samantha could no longer cling to her old illusion. There was nothing left for her to hide behind.

 

A pair of teenage girls trying to escape the downpour, ran underneath the awning. They stood under the awning, but away from Samantha. Laughing and giggling with the carefree sound that of children, they stared and giggled at her. She shook her head indulgently, they were harmless and she was starting to resemble a hooker in her bedraggled state.

 

Normally she would have felt a connection to them, especially since the one resembled Chloe. However this time she didn't and Samantha realized that even though there were people nearby, she was still very much alone. The thought was disquieting as Jack's word echoed in her mind about always being alone and that he'd recognized the same in her. There'd been so much vulnerability in his eyes as he'd spoken and then she'd-

She promised Jack he would never be alone again, Samantha remembered and guilt flooded her. Less than an hour after vowing to be with him always, she ran away. How could she have done that to him? Jack had fought so long and hard for her and Samantha abandoned him. Which one of them was the monster?

 

Samantha tried to retreat into her mantra that she was Jack's victim, but found she couldn't lie to herself any longer. She had gone with him of her own accord and reveled in every moment with him. When he touched her, it made her burn and ache with an intoxicating mixture of need and pleasure. In Jack's embrace Samantha had surrendered and opened the darkest recesses of her mind. There was no facade left to hide behind because she could no longer deny it was an illusion.

 

Sanity had never held much charm and after delving into Jack's world, it was even less so. There were different types of insanity, just as there were different types of killers. Jack's was unique and stood apart from the others. Seductive and alluring, it defied being categorized with the others, because everything about Jack was unique. Donald Lucas was a conventional killer who lacked imagination. The brilliant games Jack courted her were as twisted as they were romantic, just as he was. And as he believed her to be.

 

What was she fighting for? Samantha scolded herself. Sanity? What was sane about living a life in which she never stopped pretending? She was so tired of faking emotions she didn't feel and suppressing ones she did. Was she like the psychopaths and sociopaths she struggled to put away? Jack wasn't. Jack lived according to his own rules and followed his heart.

 

Sanity seemed to hold paltry appeal next to roses and the slavish devotion of a self proclaimed god. Conjuring the image of Jack killing Melinda in front of her, Samantha tried to feel revulsion and found she couldn't. Instead, she saw herself drinking juice and watching Jack contentedly. The moment was surreal, the moment was the picture of insanity, and it was one of the happier moments of her life.

 

She loved Jack and the life he wanted for her. She, Samantha Waters, top FBI profiler was head over heels for infamous serial killer, Jack-Of-All-Trades, Samantha admitted to herself. There were no more questions, she had her answer and knew what she needed to do. Leaving the shelter of the awning, Samantha began running towards the apartment.

 

Unaware Samantha was heading back to the apartment, Jack stood and stared into space, the stem of the rose he destroyed, still in his hand. The thorns had cut deeply into Jack's hand and blood dripped unheeded as he remained motionless. Over and over he repeated in his head that Samantha would be back and prayed silently that it would be so.

They were destined for one another, he'd known from the moment he saw her. All his life, he'd been alone and when his eyes met Samantha's, he could see that she too was alone. Her blue eyes had the knowing disdain of humanity his own did, but they lacked the predatory gaze of a killer. Intrigued, Jack followed Samantha and soon saw that she did have a killer's instincts, she just needed to have them awakened and to be given the permission to kill. Tonight he'd given her permission and she walked away, leaving him uncertain of how to proceed as nearly a decade of plans hung by a thread.

 

Emotional pain was something Jack would inflict with verve, but seldom allowed himself to indulge in feeling himself. All the suffering he'd done as a child had given him a strength which was not easily shaken. Even as he lay in agony when Samantha had shot, Jack had been able to accept it and find wry humor in it. But this time she'd truly hurt him and the emotions he normally could master, coursed in unchecked turbulence.

 

If he hurt less, Jack might have raged and destroyed everything in his path. Or if his grief weren't so great he may have been able to allow the unshed tears to come. But as the minutes ticked by and his hope sank further, all Jack could do was stare blankly. Behind him there were muffled sounds from the trunk as his second captive awoke, but Jack barely noticed. Without Samantha, there was little point, he thought sadly.

 

Samantha finally arrived at the apartment complex and made her way to the door. She took a deep breath to steady her pounding heart and turned the knob. Although she knew she wanted to see Jack, she had no idea what she would say to him as she entered the apartment. Inside, Jack stood motionless, the petals of the rose scattered around his feet. Absorbed in his pain, Jack didn't trust his eyes and made no move towards Samantha, deciding she was a fantasy and not flesh.

 

"Jack," Samantha said softly. When she got no response, she walked closer and took the rose stem from his hand. His eyes widened as she took his hand and gently opened his fingers and looked at his palm and murmured softly, "You're bleeding."

 

"Oh?" Jack asked, casting a glance at his hand cradled in hers. Then his eyes moved from his hand to meet her eyes and almost inaudibly breathed, "Samantha."

 

After a moment of struggling to find words she told him, "I got scared. Not of you, but of me. But then that's always been the problem, hasn't it?" Jack nodded in agreement and Samantha continued, "Tonight I realized it was worse to live a polite lie than to face the mirror. You've always tried to hold the mirror up for me, but I've always shied away from it before."

 

"Samantha-"

 

Interrupting, Samantha said, "No Jack, please let me finish. If I don't say this now, I may lose my courage. You're insane, in your own divinely twisted way and I think I've envied you being able to be so sure of yourself. You see me the way I truly am, you knew what I was trying to hide from the world and even myself. Whatever madness lurks your mind and is doubtless present in my own as well, can't be half as crazy as I was to run out on you. Forgive me, Jack. I love -"

 

Before Samantha could finish, Jack drew her crushingly close and covered his mouth with hers. Kissing her until she was breathless, Samantha clung to him as he demanded against her mouth, "Never leave me again."

 

"Never," Samantha agreed, this time she knew she never would. Taking his injured hand, she kissed it and requested, "Would you please wash your hand and bring me some bandages?"

 

Jack hesitated, nervous she would disappear again, but at last did as Samantha requested. When he pulled the first aid kit from the kitchen cupboard after rinsing his hand in the sink, Samantha patted one of the bar stools and took the kit from him. Obediently, Jack sat down and watched as Samantha spread antibiotic cream on his hand and wrapped it in a thin layer of gauze.

 

She took one of his discarded leather gloves and pulled it over his uninjured hand. The meaning behind her gesture, touched Jack and he smiled. With great care, Samantha eased the other glove over his injured hand. Then she gently pulled his arm and Jack stood up and followed her as Samantha told him, "I never thanked you properly for the lovely gift."

 

"Would you like to try it out?" Jack asked and gestured towards the trunk. Samantha nodded and he offered, "Shall I get our guest ready?"

"Yes please, Jack."

 

Picking up the bag of tools, Samantha stood and watched in fascination as Jack positioned the chair and pulled an orange electrical chord from the bag. While he opened the trunk, she couldn't immediately see it's occupant, although in that moment she felt so right about her decision, she probably wouldn't have flinched if it had been one of the members of the VCTF.

 

When Samantha saw it was Rick Webster, she smiled at Jack's possessiveness. She'd better not flirt with any man she didn't want to see end up in pieces. On the other hand, Samantha had taken pleasure in killing Sharon and would likely do similarly with any other woman who took too much interest in her Jack.

 

As he first revealed the identity of their guest, he wondered what her reaction would be. Jack was very pleased when Samantha smiled and didn't protest. Before Jack could pull Rick from the box, Jack had to cuff his hands independently of the attached cuffs inside the trunk. An unconscious Melinda was easy to manage, but a grown man in fear of his life, was better restrained and controlled.

 

Although Rick struggled hard within his steel cuffs, Jack lifted him easily from the trunk and placed him on the chair. Jack had bound many individuals up with orange electrical cord, but he never had felt the rush he did with Samantha watching him now. Rick's shoulder was dislocated as Jack worked to move and bind his arms behind him in a manner similar to the way Samantha's mentor had been earlier. Although the injury wasn't intentional, Jack felt mild pleasure at injuring the man who had touched his Samantha a few weeks before.

 

Once Rick was bound, Jack looked at Samantha and asked, "Are you ready?"

 

"Yes," she nodded and moved closer to Rick. Opening the murder kit Jack had given her, Samantha paused and considered the contents. It would be easier to kill Rick if he speak to her and she left the gag in, but Samantha wanted to please Jack and prove her devotion. Reaching out, she pulled the gag from Rick's mouth.

 

"Sam! Thank God!" Rick exclaimed in his clipped accent. Then he babbled, "I was in my office and someone scratched my Mercedes and I went out to look at it and next thing I knew I was locked up. What the hell is going on?!"

 

"Rick, do you remember me telling you about hiding from Jack?"

 

"What does that have to do with anything? Untie me."

 

"Answer the question," she commanded.

 

His face looked puzzled and then Rick replied, "Crazy serial killer who is obsessed with you. The one that's in the newspapers that was just arrested, Donald Lucas, isn't it?"

 

"You're partly right," Jack told him.

 

"Whatever," Rick dismissed him. "Who is this and what's this all about?"

 

"Rick Webster, meet Jack-Of-All-Trades, crazy serial killer who is obsessed with me," Samantha introduced him.

 

"This isn't funny, Sam. I don't know what sort of fucked up game you're playing here, but I want you to let me out of here."

 

"No game, Rick," Samantha assured him. "I'm going to kill you. Just as soon as I figure out which knife to use." All the items in the bag looked lethal and she wasn't sure which one to start with. Turing to Jack she asked, "Which one is a good one to start off with?"

 

"Depends on how long you want this to last," Jack replied.

 

"How long do I want to take to kill him?" she mused aloud.

 

"How long you want to take to kill me?" Rick yelled in disbelief. "Untie me right now you crazy bitch!"

 

A malicious smile crossed Samantha's lips and she forced the gag into Rick's mouth. Turning to Jack she responded, "I think I want to take a very long time indeed."

Pleased, Jack pointed to a knife and recommended, "Stick with soft tissue and avoid the arteries. Hit an artery and the fun is over in a matter of minutes."

 

Taking the knife he indicated, Samantha cut away Rick's shirt so Jack could better see her work , then raised it and started to push it into Rick's upper left arm, Watching in fascination as the blade pressed in and blood started to seep out. Turning to Jack, Samantha was glad to see his look of approval. Returning her attention to Rick, she again pushed the knife into his flesh.

 

Rick's daughter Emily would miss him, Samantha thought as she pushed the knife in. But the little girl would have her mother still and on the night he took her to the awards and then back to his place, Samantha saw he was well off, so likely Emily wouldn't be struggling for college money. As Samantha continued working the knife into Rick's flesh, she found there was no real sensation of guilt, although she was feeling a sense of euphoria and having Jack looking on approvingly was heightening it.

"So beautiful," Jack praised breathlessly and moved behind her.

 

Jack wrapped his arms around her and Samantha moaned as she felt him press against her. Feeling his desire stripped away the last of Samantha's control and she began stabbing Rick over and over. The knife left a pattern of jagged lines and curving rivulets of blood as Samantha became frenzied. Blood began to spray as she hit and artery and the arterial spray began to arc into the air.

 

"He's dead Samantha," Jack told her as the blood went from a spray to a slow trickle to the floor. Kissing her neck he breathed, "Do you understand now?"

 

Dropping the knife, Samantha fell back against Jack panting, "Oh God! I never- never knew-"

 

She'd looked through the eyes of more killer's than she could count, but she'd never felt the sheer euphoria before. Looking at the blood on the floor, Samantha felt a sense of accomplishment and elation, not the revulsion she'd always imagined she would feel. Turning around in Jack's arms, Samantha gazed into his eyes. Suddenly she could see his creations in a new light and it took her breath away.

 

Pulling Jack's mouth to hers, Samantha wrapped her legs around his waist and rubbed against his growing arousal. Their kiss was frantic, feral and brutal as they clung tightly in a moment of understanding that only they could appreciate. Gasping for breath, she fought to free him from his jeans. It was difficult, the fabric was pulled tightly by his desire and wet from hers. At last she succeed and Jack reached down and ripped her panties roughly from her body and thrust up inside her wetness.

Hard and fast, Samantha rode Jack. There were smears of Rick's blood on her, that soon covered them both, but neither cared. Violent and tender at the same time, the deadly pair mated feverishly. They climaxed rapidly but continued their coupling, riding on an adrenaline high that had been many years in the making. A final sound of pleasure emitted from Samantha, followed by Jack's and the pair collapsed.

 

After several minutes, Jack finally found his voice again, "Samantha."

 

There was no response, Jack wondered if she'd fainted away, but she finally answered him with a delicate snore. She'd fallen asleep, Jack thought with amusement. Lying on the floor a little longer, Jack managed the energy to stand up and then carried Samantha into the bedroom. He stripped off her bloody dress and placed her on the bed. Peeling off his clothes, Jack slid in beside Samantha. Taking her in his arms, he too fell asleep.

 

Despite his exhaustion, Jack roused periodically and looked at Samantha. Over the years he'd trained himself to wake up at regular intervals. Jack didn't like having to sleep and give up his control. If there was one drawback to being a living god in Jack's opinion, it was the pesky demands of the human body like sleep. Although there were a few that weren't too bad, Jack thought and smiled lasciviously in the dark before sleeping again.

 

A bit later when Jack awoke, he panicked when he realized Samantha wasn't lying next to him. Jack called out, "Samantha?"

 

Just as he was about get out of bed, she came back into the bedroom and snuggled beside him. Drowsily she slurred, "Bathroom."

 

Her body became slack against him almost as soon as the word left her mouth. Since she was so tired, she likely had only taken care of her needs and hadn't had a chance to really look at the blood which still stained her skin. Before allowing himself one last bit of sleep for the night, Jack decided he should clean Samantha and remove her from the apartment before she was awake. She'd been reborn in blood and now they could explore the more tender side of the game.

 

Jack slept for two more hours and got up as the sun was starting to rise. Although Samantha would likely sleep naturally for quite a while longer, he didn't wish to worry about disturbing her so he went to the refrigerator and withdrew a syringe. Returning to her side, Jack pressed the needle against her arm, taking care not to disturb her.

 

Assured Samantha would rest undisturbed, Jack took a shower and began to clean up. The bodies would need to be dumped before the day was out. He didn't want the VCTF to be alerted that two people who had known Samantha were now dead. After Donald Lucas took the all the blame for his murders, then they could perhaps go public.

"So much to do," Jack said to the corpses in the livingroom and slid on rubber gloves. A perusal with a lumalite followed by a bleach rub down was in order before they were disposed of. As he snapped Melinda's bones and forced her into one of the trunks, he grumbled, "So much easier before rigor."

 

Once Melinda was packed up, Jack began to work on untying the electrical cord from Rick so he could be put away as well. It wouldn't do to leave his signature orange cord with the body. His signature, Jack thought. Hmm, he'd have to talk to Samantha some time about creating a signature for her. What color of electrical cord wasn't as common as black or white, but would coordinate with orange? Oh well, they could figure out the pesky details later, Jack decided as he began breaking Rick's bones and easing his body into the remaining trunk.

 

Softly humming, Jack took the trunks to the van. Going back inside, he dropped a kiss on Samantha's cheek and grabbed his laptop. Inside the van, Jack paused to bring his sleeping beauty up on the monitor and then drove away. Normally he either left a body in it's killing ground or displayed it proudly. But now and then Jack had to dispose of someone for practical reasons and didn't care to claim credit.

 

Driving out of Atlanta, Jack headed towards John Grant's cabin. The cabin the clown had taken his Samantha to was seldom used and the woods around it had proved a good place to bury bodies. Pulling the van into the drive, Jack pulled leather gloves over his rubber gloves and lugged one trunk and then the other into the woods. In quick order he dug two holes and buried the pair where they would likely never be found. Taking care to scatter leaves and twigs over the recently disturbed earth, Jack finished and returned to the van.

 

Pulling his gloves off, he looked at Samantha on the monitor and lit a cigarette before driving away from Grant's cabin. Jack headed back to the apartment complex and to Samantha. When he got back to Samantha, Jack took a cloth and washed the blood from her face. Then he took a robe from the closet and eased her into it and gathered her in his arms. Carrying her to his car and placing her inside, Jack drove Samantha to his lair and her new home.

 

When they arrived at Jack's loft, he took Samantha from the car and cradled her close as he made his way to the elevator and into the main living area of the building he lived in. He placed her on the sofa and went into the bathroom. Filling the large tub with warm water, Jack stripped off his clothes. Peeling Samantha's robe from her unconscious form, Jack carried her into the bathroom.

 

Carefully lowering her into the tub and holding her head up, Jack slipped behind her into the warm water. For several moments he savored the feeling of her skin against his and closed his eyes. Since he'd moved into the building and saw the huge tub, he'd imagined this scenario many times. Perhaps in a day or two they might repeat the ritual with her awake and by candlelight. However, now was for practical purposes more than romantic he thought and reached for a bottle of body wash and a crimson pouf.

 

Creating a white lather on the red net rose, Jack traced Samantha's body and washed away the blood. Many times he had showered or bathed and watched as the water turned pinkish from blood, watching the water tint from Samantha's creation gave the experience a new fascination to the phenomena. Most of the blood washed away, Jack let the water out and filled the tub again. This time he washed Samantha's hair, rinsing it with a tall clear lucite glass that had a raised thorny lucite rose on it.

When he was satisfied they were both clean, Jack let the water out and stood up, leaning Samantha's head against a towel. Drying himself quickly, Jack reached for a large bathsheet and wrapped Samantha in it and lifted her from the tub. Lying her on the bed, Jack went to the closet and pulled out a long white peignoir. It was the sort of thing a bride might wear on her wedding night. Tenderly, he slid the silky fabric over her body then guided the diaphanous robe over it.

 

In a dresser Jack had a bottle of Samantha's perfume which he took and lightly applied to her wrists. Getting another towel from the bathroom and a comb and brush, Jack dried her hair and detangled it with the comb. Once it was dry, he brushed it until it was shiny and smooth. Centering his sleeping princess on the dark satin sheets, Jack stood back to admire her. Many times he'd dreamed of seeing his blonde goddess lying in his bed. Later when Samantha awoke, they would explore the rest of the fantasy, he thought contentedly.

 

Going to the dresser, Jack pulled out a pair of dark silk pajama bottoms and grabbed a midnight velvet smoking jacket from the closet. He put the pajamas on and a dash of cologne, but laid the jacket aside as he sat down at his computer. Typing he brought up the digital recording that was made remotely from the apartment. Jack forwarded and began to edit the footage as he deleted some and compared the various camera angles since there were several cameras concealed in the room.

 

Their passion could be preserved another time with Samantha's knowledge and consent. But her first creation needed to be preserved. On screen Jack watched as Samantha killed Rick Webster once again. Slowly he went frame by frame and relishing her passion and enthusiasm. Sharon had possessed spunk and enjoyed killing. But Samantha had a natural daring in her style and a hint of cruelty that was truly something to behold. His dead apprentice could only successfully create paint by numbers, Samantha on the other hand had the makings of a master artist like himself.

 

Watching the monitor, Jack felt a mixture of pride and arousal as Samantha painted the cream colored canvas. Seeing the display she left behind, Jack resolved to remove and frame the section of carpeting Samantha had stained. Although he'd stripped jewelry from both Melinda and Rick for trophies, it would make a nice edition to their home. Maybe in a day or so when it was dry, Jack decided and stole a look at the bed. After such a long wait, he couldn't bear to leave her for long.

 

Checking his watch, Jack shut off the program on his computer and put set it on screensaver, letting it flip through a montage of his beloved. Samantha would be awake in a couple hours and he wanted everything to be perfect for when she awoke. Going through a door to his rooftop garden, Jack began harvesting roses and filling a basket with them. He took them back into his lair and in the kitchen began to fill vases with them.

 

Arranging fresh roses around the loft, Jack smiled and then scattered rose petals on the bed around Samantha. Although the apartment was usually dim, as clouds moved over and it began raining it became quite dark. Lighting candles, Jack laughed softly as he remembered Donald Lucas complaining in an e-mail about Samantha not appreciating all the candles he'd lit for her. Poor bastard, so lacking in imagination or style, Lucas never could have impressed Samantha. A dingy basement and a kidnapped baby wouldn't have seduced Sharon, let alone a woman like Samantha.

 

Lucas was so fixated on his Sunday school crush and the bible he couldn't see sex beyond reproduction in his mind. Likely Lucas was impotent, Jack suspected. When Jack came along, it hadn't taken much to twist the feeble killer's mind until he believed Jack was a god offering salvation. So absorbed in his pathetic fantasies and unable to understand Samantha, Lucas had agreed to pretend to be Jack and let him have her provided Jack promised not to impregnate her.

 

Remembering the look on Lucas' face as he said the word impregnate with such revulsion and awe, Jack smirked with amusement. Serial killers weren't exactly compatible with raising children. Samantha had foisted most of the responsibility for Chloe off on others. So gloriously self-absorbed, Samantha didn't have time for children, they were imperfect and demanding. Lucas wanted virginal holy mother figure and blindly believed that it could be Sam. But Jack had known all along, Samantha was meant to be a lethal and carnal goddess, the alpha to his omega.

 

Candles lit and roses arranged, Jack went into the kitchen again and started to cook brunch for Samantha. Pulling ingredients out and mixing them together, Jack poured them into the waffle iron. Placing china on a try, he soon placed several golden waffles on the plate. Taking cream and strawberries from the refrigerator, Jack sliced the berries over the plate. The cream went into a bowl and he added sugar and vanilla, then Jack stirred rapidly until the cream was whipped and fluffy. After adding a liberal amount to the plate, Jack pulled a bottle of champagne and a container of orange juice from the refrigerator.

 

Jack got a pair stemmed glasses from a cupboard and filled them half way with orange juice. Popping open the champagne, he then filled the glasses to the top and added them to the tray. Another quick check of his watch and Jack slid his smoking jacket on and then gathered up the tray.

 

Just as Samantha started to open her eyes, Jack was standing beside the bed. Softly he uttered, "Samantha."

 

Blinking in confusion for a moment, then stretching contentedly as she gained awareness, she purred, "Jack."

 

"I thought you might be hungry," he said and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

"Starving," Samantha replied in a sultry tone.

 

The double entendre, made Jack smile. As she sat up, he pressed a glass into her hand, "Mimosas."

 

"Champagne, hmm."

 

"I thought a celebration was in order," Jack replied and took the other glass.

Raising her glass Samantha said, "A toast then. To the game."

 

They clinked glasses and smiled with a mixture of shyness and furtiveness at one another. Samantha began to eat her brunch, pausing often to feed a bite to Jack. Food mingled with kisses that were gentle pecks that eventually progressed to a prolonged exchange. At last Jack cleared the tray and returned with the champagne bottle. Refilling their glasses before he sat the bottle on the nightstand.

When she first woke up Samantha had been a a bit out of it. Likely Jack had drugged her, although she didn't particularly mind. But as she became awake, Samantha became aware of the seductive atmosphere. Her body still felt sensitive from the day before and she was becoming aroused. Obviously Jack had something in mind, but she was getting anxious. Samantha suggested, "It's rather warm in here with all the candles, maybe you should take your jacket off."

 

Amused, Jack nodded, "You're probably right.

 

Standing up, he took his jacket off and tried not to flush at the appraising glance she was giving him. But, he'd had his clothes on during their encounters the day before. Having her naked while he was clothed helped to reinforce her submissiveness. Now they were equals and the rule no longer applied. At last he drawled, "Anything wrong?"

 

"Perfect," she murmured approvingly as she stared. Then she turned scarlet as she realized what she'd said.

 

Taking her hand, Jack kissed her palm and replied, "You're perfect."

 

Ducking her head with pleasure and embarrassment, Samantha started to speak and stopped several times. Finally Jack pressed, "Tell me. Anything you want and you shall have it."

 

"You," Samantha blushed. Despite her discomfiture, she wanted to give voice to her desires. "Yesterday you saw me naked all day long."

 

"Indeed," Jack agreed huskily. "You're quite beautiful."

 

"But I didn't get to see you. I was blindfolded," she countered.

 

When she again struggled for words, Jack smiled. Much as he was enjoying her shyness and hesitation, today was about her pleasure rather than her submission. Refraining from mentioning their heated encounter beside Rick Webster in which she partially saw him, Jack gently asked, "Would you like to see me?"

 

"Yes," Samantha answered him breathlessly. After Jack had hidden in shadows for so long, she wanted to see him completely. Just being in his presence had a forbidden quality which made her heart race. The notion of having Jack exposed and vulnerable was intoxicatin to her.

 

Meeting her eyes, Jack untied the drawstring of the silk pajama pants and slid them downwards, letting them fall to the floor. Samantha studied him as he slowly stepped out the pajamas and stood in front of her. Although she'd seen her fair share of naked men, she found Jack's trim and sinewy figure especially pleasing. Deep down Samantha had known from the earliest days she would belong to Jack one day. The transition from the mental to the physical was proving quite stimulating she decided as his manhood roused under her gaze.

 

Climbing off the bed, Samantha stood a few feet away from Jack. He moved to touch her but she put her hand up to stop him. At first he was puzzled by her stopping him, then Samantha met his gaze and smiled reassuringly. Unfastening the sheer robe, Samantha let it cascade from her shoulders and float to the floor. Never breaking eye contact, she eased the straps of the gown from her shoulders. Sliding from her body, the gown puddled on the floor around her ankles.

 

Both naked, the pair remained frozen in place, their eyes locked. Male and female halves of a dark whole, they stood in silent communion. Jack continued to meet Samantha's gaze as he held a hand out to her. Eyes unmoving, Samantha's hand raised and slid into Jack's. Fingers and eyes locked, she whispered softly, "Love me, Jack."

The words were all at once a request, a demand and a question, and all Jack was only too willing to respond to with a yes. Pulling her close, Jack promised, "Always, Samantha."

 

His hand came up and caressed her face, then slid around the back of her neck. Covering her mouth with his, Jack kissed her. Their lips melded as their tongues caressed in a slow kiss which left Samantha breathless. Although she had enjoyed the savage passion Jack had given her yesterday, Samantha was enjoying the erotic reverence of his touch today. Both were wonderful and demanded further exploration, Samantha decided as she clung to Jack.

 

Easing her onto the bed, Jack moved beside her and skimmed his fingertips over her throat and down between her breasts over her heart. Samantha traced the same path over Jack's chest, then pulled his face to hers. Their breath mingling as their lips met, Jack brought his hand to her breast and captured her nipple between his fingers. Gasping against his mouth, Samantha wrapped her leg around Jack's, drawing him closer and increasing contact between them.

 

As Jack's hands explored her breasts and his mouth sought hers, Samantha slid her hands over his back. Her fingernails pressed gently but didn't scratch as they roamed the hard planes of Jack's back. Between her thighs, Samantha could feel Jack's arousal growing and she pressed against him with a soft moan.

 

His lips kissed down her throat, gently skimming over her collar bone. Moving over to trace her earlobe with his tongue then traveled back over her throat, making Samantha arch underneath his lips. Sliding his mouth down further, Jack took one of her nipples in his mouth and flicked it lightly with his tongue. Samantha whimpered as Jack's hand wandered to her heated sex and pressed a fingertip to her clit.

As Jack caressed her, Samantha slid her hand between them and wrapped it around his velvety shaft. Her touch elicited a groan from him and Samantha urged his mouth to hers with her other hand. Again their lips joined as their intimate caresses made them gasp against each others lips. Despite the intensity of their desire, they moved slowly, almost dreamlike as they worshipped and explored one another.

 

Samantha's hand released Jack's cock and took his hand from between her thighs. He brought his hand up to caress her face as Samantha slid her hands over Jack's shoulders. Their mouths joined and their tongues mated in a slow dance which left them both breathless and wanting. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Samantha ground her pussy against Jack's hardness in a silent plea.

 

Without breaking their kiss, Jack shifted and eased his cock into Samantha. Undulating in an unhurried rhythm their bodies entwined. Continuing their sensual movements, Jack raised his mouth from Samantha's and watched her face. Meeting his gaze, Samantha mouthed his name silently and trembled underneath him as flutters of pleasure began course through her.

 

Jack's lips descended over Samantha's as their languorous tempo drew them closer to the edge. Caught in each others spell, the pair clung tightly as the coupled. Samantha moaned against Jack's mouth as they moved in a convulsive tangle. The demands of their bodies made them writhe instinctively as the profoundness of their mating stole the capacity of rational thought. Between them an arc of electricity seemed to spark as they trembled on the edge.

 

Moans and whimpers escalating, Samantha quivered under Jack. With an exultant cry, the pair climaxed in concert. Gasping for breath, neither spoke nor moved to disentangle from one another. At last Jack managed to lift himself onto his elbows and look down at Samantha's face. Both wore expressions of tender awe as they continued to study each other.

 

Finally they disengaged and lay back on the bed. Jack wrapped one arm around Samantha and reached with the other for one of the glasses of champagne. Cradling her head, Jack brought the glass to her lips before taking a drink himself. Sitting the glass aside he kissed her tenderly.

 

"I love you, Samantha," Jack told her. "I have ever since the moment I saw you."

 

"And I love you. I have since-" Samantha trailed off. "Hmm, I can't honestly say. I've loved you for a long time but can't name the moment. But I do know you were mine from the first orange electrical cord."

 

Laughing Jack said, "Remind me to discuss electrical cords with you sometime."

 

"Why Mr. Trades, I do believe you're trying to seduce me," Samantha giggled playfully.

 

"Always," Jack replied and kissed her.

 

Electrical cords were forgotten as their lips met. The hollowness that Samantha had felt the day before had been filled by Jack. Finally she faced the mirror and acknowledged her true self. Samantha felt content and complete at last. Jack was her world, she thought as his hands explored her body once more. All the rest of her nights and days would be spent with him as they played their games.

 

Bound together, neither would ever be lonely again. Freedom hadn't been escaping Jack, it had been escaping her illusions. Her face reflected in his eyes, Samantha saw her future stretching out before her in the deep brown orbs. Roses mixed with blood in her mind, then fell away along with rational thought as Jack covered her body once more. Deadly and divine, they would never be alone again...