BDSM.

Dedicated to
GavinBotha
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It was never supposed to be about making love, it was about sex. It wasn't about feelings, just feeling; touch. Taste. It didn't have to hurt, it didn't have to significant, it didn't need to be named. Fucking, not loving.

But it wasn't.

Christopher Kidd liked men. He liked women. He was ridiculously wealthy, absurdly attractive- "The next big thing" according to those in the glamorous, yet seedy and superficial world of theatre- He had it all, yet he had nothing. He was everyone's everything and he was a someone, he was the 'it' everyone raved about, the 'is' that Wannabe's aspired to be, a hit. He wasn't just another smirking cliche. Christopher Kidd was also lonely.

Snow wasn't significant enough to be known. Plagued and tormented by her dark, wicked past, she is forced to hide in the shadowy alleyways of The city of Angels. At night she's a siren; shedding her inhibitions and her clothing to feed the greedy mouth of her past, sinking deeper into a world of beautiful women, powerful men, abuse, drugs and lust; she loses control. She's about to lose so much more.

What happens when everything they've ever know, ever dreamt of, ever so desperately wanted dissipates in the course of one passion-filled night?

What happens when it all becomes one?

Blood.

Death.

Sex

and Money.

BDSM.

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