Christian Achestan's Point Of View.
An hour before the party, each and every thing had seemed calm — almost deceptively so, but then, each and every thing spiraled out of control.
Her lips had tasted like nectar from an innocent flower, sweet and subtle, just like hers. I had always enjoyed kissing her, I could not deny that. The softness of her pink, pouty lips could have been addictive to any man, but for me, it was different. Instead of wanting more, instead of being addicted, I wanted to consume her entirely. I wanted to devour her until nothing was left and when she moaned, oh my sweet God, the sound drove me crazy.
The need to take her, to feel every inch of her warm, soft skin beneath mine, was overwhelming. The fact that I had restrained myself so far was almost surprising, ev
