With every stroke of her fingers, the flames of lust burned hotter inside me.
The hotter they burned, the more I wanted.
The more I wanted, the less I fought.
The less I fought, the more I forgot.
The more I forgot, the less I was.
The less I was, the more I became hers.
Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and suggest something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peer into the depths of my longer fiction?