SAINT.
Temptation calls out to us in different languages. It speaks in different tongues. Mine called out to me in a moan one room away.
I had just spent an hour under freezing water, sitting there like a f*****g statue while I forced release after release out of myself until my c**k went numb. But guess what? The f*****g hunger didn't die. It had claws that kept ripping me apart from the inside.
I kept chasing a satisfaction that refused to be caught.
The number of times I'd released in three days was enough to make me worry genuinely about any woman unlucky enough to get caught with her pants down around me. I'd f**k her and leave her wrecked enough to wish she had never met me in the first place. I'd use her until her legs gave out and her throat stopped working.
Eve, that little b
