22
Yulia
Over the next four days, we settle into a new routine. When I’m not tied up, I cook, we eat our meals together, and we go for early morning walks in the forest. And we f**k. We f**k a lot. It’s as if the knowledge that we’ll soon be separated makes Lucas even hungrier for me. He f***s me everywhere—the bedroom, the kitchen, up against a tree in the forest—and so frequently that by the end of the day, I’m raw and aching, my body sore and my soul torn by the knowledge that I’m sleeping with the enemy.
No, not that I’m sleeping with the enemy—that I’m enjoying it. No matter what I tell myself, no matter how much I try to resist, I unravel at the seams the moment Lucas touches me. Maybe if he hurt me again, it would be different, but he doesn’t. His passion for me is forceful, even
