*Tristan*
I want her flat on her back, with her legs spread. I want to be buried deeply inside her, thrusting, thrusting, until the pleasure carries away the pain of memory. I had told her almost everything, the dark secrets that I have never shared with anyone, that I have been carrying with me since I was ten. I have accumulated more over the years, each one weightier than the one that came before.
But if I told her, she would choose the rookeries over me. She would know the blackness that is my soul, the horrors that haunts me, the desperation that had once filled me with dread.
Now that desperation is turned toward her. I have never wanted a woman as I want her. If only some of her innocence could wash over me, but it is more likely that my darkness will rub off on her. I hate the t
