SAINT.
She parted her legs for me. One of her hands trembled against my thigh, the other slid behind her and hooked over my neck.
I didn't touch her out of lust.
God, I wish it were that easy.
Lust would've been clean — feral, messy, but honest.
This wasn't that. This was slow rot... A festering dare I put myself to, just to prove to myself that I was still in control.
She pulled me so close until all I could breathe was the sickening sweetness of lavender from her hair.
"You really don't get what you're doing, do you?" I muttered, slipping my hand between her thighs. "You're stirring up the kind of thoughts that don't come with mercy. And that's starting to piss me off."
I'd be damned if I didn't take this further into the depths of her in-between. God, I meant her warm cunt.
