@ joesburrow

Before him, I thought crying was a weakness. Now, whenever I cry, Creighton's intensity burns a notch higher and he devours me whole. He's a sadist like that. But he's my sadist.

As if feeling my gaze on her, Annika lifts her head and her glittering blue-gray eyes clash with mine. They're so innocent, so full of life, and it shouldn't be right that I want to fill them with tears. Pleasure tears. Fear tears. I don't give a fuck at this point.

"Yeah, well, pain frightens me." His eyes shine with something similiar to... excitement. And that right there scares the bejesus out of me. It's not normal excitement like the type I get whenever I go shopping or practice ballet. It's nothing that innocent or harmless.

"Hypothetically speaking, I have deviant tastes and violent tendencies for the opposite sex. You're so fucking breakable, I'd crush you in no time."

And whenever he looks at something, you never know if he's considering touching it, or flat out murdering it with his bare hands.

That's all I've done since I met this enigma. I've wondered and imagined and dreamed.

“This is my pussy.” Thrust. “My property.” Thrust. “Fucking mine.”

“You always wanted the nice guy; too bad you got the fucking villain.”

I can almost feel that raw touch on my heated skin. I can feel his breath over me, his control, and how he took it from me in return. I can see him in front of me with those dead eyes, tall like the devil and with the same imposing presence, his way of taking everything from me. I can almost hear his mocking voice and his effortless manner of speech.