Chapter 5

The air in the private VIP room of the haunted house attraction was thick, heavy with the scent of cheap fog juice and stale popcorn, but to me, it smelled like pure, unadulterated anticipation. The muffled sounds of screaming tourists and the rattle of cart wheels on cobblestones drifted in through the thin wooden door, creating a perfect, isolated world just for us. I had been pulled aside by *him*—my Daddy, my dominant, my everything—just moments ago, ushered into this cramped, dimly lit storage closet disguised as a witch’s pantry. The single bare bulb overhead swung gently from a frayed wire, casting long, dancing shadows against the shelves stacked with plastic bats and sheets of artificial spiderwebs. I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling beneath my lace bra, the fabric already damp with my nervous sweat. He stood there, towering over me, his suit jacket discarded on a crate, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. His tie was loosened, hanging loose around his neck like a noose waiting to be pulled. He looked at me with those dark, predatory eyes that always made my knees weak, that look of possessive hunger that