"Ah, now this is where we get down to the basis of my voodoo," Isadora explained. "We all have a spirit inside of us. Some call it a soul, but I like to see them as living ghosts. These living spirits are not restricted by the confines of our body. They are free to wander the ends of the earth, haunting the people whose lives the individual has made an impression on. You understand?"

"Okay," I said, doing my best to be objective about the entire thing.

"Have you ever felt heartbreak?"

I thought of Shadow and nodded immediately.

"That's a living ghost, haunting you," Isadora said. "Has someone ever done something that made you smile every time you thought about it?"

Once again, I thought of Shadow, dancing the Macarena in Cambodia, and I nodded once more.

"A living ghost, seeping into your memories."

"What about dead ghosts?" I asked.

Isadora's voice suddenly took on a more serious tone. "The dead ghosts are the ones that you don't want to f.u.c.k with," she said. "Their ghosts are far stronger than that of the living. Their presence feels different too. They linger in your thoughts and leave far more devastating impressions on a person. Even if they're not menacing in nature, these ghosts can still wreak havoc on our emotional being."

I thought of Justin. What she was saying seemed to have some validity to it.

"The ghosts that cling to you, both the living and the dead, are far stronger than any I've seen," Isadora said. She squinted. "Two of the living ghosts you have are in conflict of each other as well."

I raised a brow. "Oh?"

"I like you Lucy...though I'm not convinced that's your real name."

"Aria," I said. There was no harm in telling Isadora who I was. "Aria Valencia."

"The Crow Killer?"

I sighed. "Man, is that how I'm going to be known to the rest of the world? Aria the Crow Killer?"

Isadora grinned. "I've always been drawn to strong women."

"I'm not as strong as you think," I sighed.

"I'm here to help you regain your strength." Isadora gestured towards the gla.s.s that was still in my hand. "Let's see if we can sort out your living ghosts, and more importantly, exorcise the dead one. Trust in me. Now drink."

What the h.e.l.l. It wasn't like had anything else to lose-except perhaps my life. But the value of all human lives these days seemed pretty low to me.

I needed something different.

I drank the sweet liquid within the gla.s.s in one single gulp.

Immediately, I felt warmth radiate through my body. My toes and fingers began tingling. I felt pleasant, glowing almost, like I had downed a couple of gla.s.ses of wine.

"Now, close your eyes Aria. What we are going to do is free your own living ghost and enter into the world of others. We are going to make a connection with the three spirits that surround your thoughts. Remember, there are no boundaries for what your spirit can do. There are no inhibitions or consequences. You are in control of what happens." Isadora explained. "Now, focus on my voice."

I did.

"Three doors," she said, her tone of voice almost lyrical in nature, "three closed doors in a place where you feel safe, in a place you trust."

Her voice seeped into my mind as I felt my body go completely numb.

The world around me faded into white. I closed my eyes, inhaled, and when I opened my eyes again, I found myself standing at the center of the University's campus-the place that I had spent the last three years of my life trying to achieve my lifelong dreams of being a concert pianist.

At the time, I had hated waking up at seven a.m. to make it to morning lectures, my eyes often swollen shut from the lack of proper sleep. I remembered dragging my tired a.s.s to the lecture hall only to endure an hour and half long snoozefest. But now, being far removed from it, I missed the University more than I could have imagined.

I missed having a purpose. I missed living.

"Approach the first door," Isadora said, "And discover your desires."

I drifted through the luscious green gra.s.s of the campus, the smells of spring tulips filling my nostrils, as I approached Berlioz Hall. It was where most of my cla.s.ses were held. I opened the white double doors and stepped inside.

All the cla.s.srooms in the first floor of Berlioz Hall were gone. Instead it was replaced with a large room, decorated with elegant, vintage furniture. The walls and floors were made out of wood, filling the room with the fresh scent of cedar mixed with exotic spices and sweet scented smoke. A single black chair rested at the center of the room and behind it was a large stone fireplace. A painting of a moon-the same as Lincoln's tattoo-hung above the mantle. The smell of firewood burning and the warmth of the heat generating from it were both welcoming.

"This first room houses the living spirit of the man that fills you with the most temptation-the forbidden fruit that you know you shouldn't taste but you long to do so anyways."

And then Lincoln appeared, behind the chair, like he had been there all along. He was dressed in the elegant dark suit that he wore when I first met him at Shadow's party. He was even wearing the fox mask.

"Now, accept his spirit completely and give in to everything you desire," Isadora said. "Only then can you free yourself from the temptations of this man. All your senses are amplified in this encounter-taste, smell, sound, and touch. Give into his ghost, and then free yourself from him physically."

"A pleasure to see you again, Golden Virgin," Lincoln said, in a cheerful tone. The light from the fire cast a dark silhouette around him. "I'm quite honored that you chose me to be the object of your forbidden l.u.s.t."

"It shouldn't be that much of a surprise," I said. "I did allow for a part of you to be inside me the other night."

Lincoln made the peace sign with both fingers. "Victory?"

"Deviant," I couldn't help but laugh. I tried to recall the name of the other man-the one that I had fallen in love with-but for the moment, that person's name escaped me.

The only name that was on my lips now was Lincoln.

"Why don't you have a seat?" he asked.

"Should I trust you?"

"Not in the least," he said, as he slowly removed the fox mask to reveal his beautiful, boyish features. "Now come here."

He said it in such an authoritative manner-confident and determined-that it filled my entire body with nervous antic.i.p.ation. I walked over to the chair slowly.

Just as I was about to sit down, he stopped me, his firm hands lifting me back up. His touch was spellbinding and it made me forget about breathing all together.

"Take off your clothes," he instructed. "I want to see your body. I want to see what I'm going to taste, and then f.u.c.k."

I took in his words like the gospel. I felt as if l.u.s.t had taken complete control of my body. My hands-no longer my own-slowly began removing the dress I wore. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s, swollen with desire, spilled out revealing my hard nipples which ached to be touched.

Once the dress was loosened from around my shoulders, the rest of it slid off my body and onto the floor with ease.

I was naked and shaking with antic.i.p.ation, yearning for his touch to fill me.

Lincoln's eyes did a full survey, up and down my body, before he finally settled on my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He reached out and pinched my pink nipples, swirling his thumbs around the surface of them.

I groaned.

"Tell me what it is you want, Golden Virgin," he said as one hand slowly slid downwards and found my wet p.u.s.s.y, his middle finger gently ma.s.saging the outer folds of my lips.

"I want-" I paused for a moment as I swallowed hard. It wasn't love that I wanted from him, nor was it a relationship at the moment. What did I want?

"I want satisfaction," I gasped.

He kissed me pa.s.sionately, his tongue exploring my mouth, telling me how much he desired me. Lincoln tasted exotic, like cinnamon and red wine, and I devoured his lips.

Finally, he pulled away from me, his fingers still exploring my delicate folds, his thumb brushing over my c.l.i.t, sending sensual pulses throughout my entire body.

"I like a woman who knows what she wants," he replied with a grin. He pushed me onto the chair, not in a forceful way, but with authority nonetheless. I gave in.

I watched as he slowly removed his suit jacket, folded it neatly, and then laid it on a table. His eyes never lost sight of me.

He continued to undress, working on his b.u.t.toned shirt next. I watched him eagerly, while the warmth of the fire bathed me in heat.

Lincoln's body was a beautiful piece of work, the fire casting an orange glow against his smooth skin, decorated with tattoos. I wanted him to make me scream the way Juno had screamed while he f.u.c.ked her. I wanted him to make me feel like a dirty girl.

He left his pants on as he placed his hands on my knees and pushed them apart slowly, his eyes staring deep into mine.

"You smell like l.u.s.t," he said, his voice almost a throaty growl. "I'll give you the satisfaction you need Golden Virgin."

Lincoln dropped to his knees, removed his belt, and bound my left leg to the leg of the chair. He did the same to the other one with his tie.

I was spread wide open for him to do as he wished.

"I wonder what you taste like?"

"Find out," I pleaded.

His lips kissed my legs first, his tongue tracing circles around my inner thighs. I was breathing heavily, my hands tugging at my hard nipples as I waited with antic.i.p.ation for him to find my p.u.s.s.y, to taste my wetness, and to fill me with his wicked tongue.

"You sound impatient," he said as he pushed his index finger inside of me, and then swirled it around. He pulled it out again and licked his finger.

"Oh yes, you do taste like a girl who needs to come."

"f.u.c.k, Lincoln," I hissed.

"No, not f.u.c.k Lincoln," he replied. "I think what you wanted to say was 'f.u.c.k me.'"

"Yes, for G.o.d's sake."

Lincoln shook his head. "I think you need a taste first," he said as his finger went back inside of me again. If one single finger felt this good, I could only imagine what his hard, throbbing c.o.c.k would feel like.

He slowly removed his finger and ran it between my parted lips. I licked the tip before taking it into my mouth.

I sucked on it, imagining that it was his c.o.c.k that was filling my mouth. My wetness tasted salty and sweet. The area between my legs throbbed with desire. I didn't just want him. I needed him inside me.

"Do you like how you taste?" he asked while he tugged at one of my nipples.

"Yes," I gasped.

"I do as well," he said. "I need more."

His tongue immediately went for my outer lips, brushing up and down against them. The sounds of his delicate strokes-wet licking mixed in with deep moans-were driving me over the edge.

Then he found my c.l.i.t, and I was completely lost. He was focused on making me come, every stroke adding another layer of pleasure to the inevitable climax I was about to feel.

My moans echoed throughout the living room when I finally came. It was a moment of pure ecstasy as the o.r.g.a.s.m seized my entire body. But he didn't stop there. He continued to flick at my c.l.i.t with the tip of his tongue, torturing me as my body convulsed from its sensitive pleasure.

"Stop," I begged. "Please."

Lincoln smiled at me and shook his head. "I need something from you first," he said as his fingers pinched at my nipples again.

"What do you want from me?"

"Your obedience," he said as he rose to his feet. The sounds of his sliding zipper filled me with l.u.s.t. I licked my lips.

Lincoln freed his hardened c.o.c.k from his grey dress pants. My eyes devoured him with hunger. He revealed his perfect formation of muscles around his waist that pointed towards the direction of his c.o.c.k.

He ran his hand down his hardened length. "You want my c.o.c.k, don't you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Tell me you want it," he ordered. "Tell me you f.u.c.king want it."

"I want your hard c.o.c.k," I begged. "I want it in my mouth and inside me. I want to feel every inch of you."

Lincoln smiled.

He positioned himself in front of me. I flicked my tongue lightly along the ridge of his hardness, from the base to tip, and circled the head slowly with my tongue. He sucked in a breath as I took him in my mouth, my lips sliding down the length of him.

Lincoln's head tilted back as he let out groan. His hands reached for the back of my head as he thrust himself deep into my throat.

I could taste his prec.u.m, a salty mixture which I savored.

"Look up at me," he instructed. "I want to see your innocent eyes looking at me as you suck me dry."

He was seemingly focused on the pleasure I was giving him as he continued to groan, one hand guiding my head back and forth, until he eventually pulled out.

"I want you to come," I said.

"Not like this," Lincoln said. "I'm going to f.u.c.k you senseless and then I'm going to watch my c.u.m run down the inside of your thighs."

He traced his fingertips down my arms and between the valleys of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s with a feather light caress. His fingers continued their journey down my body, achingly slow, until they reached their destination. He gripped my hips firmly and entered me with one thrust. His movements were fast and hard as he pounded into me. Every stroke made me shudder with pleasure.