From the very beginning, he looked like a bad decision some unfortunate soul was about to make. I was always careful to keep a pristine image, taking every precaution to be a good girl.
But sometimes, good wasn’t good enough.
The confusion lay in the forbidden thrill of deviating from the path.
Why did being wicked feel so euphoric?
He pulls his shirt off impatiently, reaching over his head and tugging it up and over with a swift pull. My eyes fasten on the play of muscles underneath his skin as they ripple with each move he makes.
Dragging in a shallow breath, I still as he prowls over to the bed where I sit.
Are you come as lover or executioner?
Ebony and Crows 