He hated this whole situation. He hated that he couldn’t remember why he had left so long ago when Sarah had been certain they were on the right pat... to reconciliation. He hated that he didn’t know where he’d been, or who he’d been with. He hated that Riley, a man he didn’t know, was stalking Sarah. Yeah, he hated a lot of things, but he didn’t hate her. He’d tried though. Try as hard as he might, he just couldn’t. He kept thinking about her situation and the choices she’d made since he’d left.. On your knees, your tongue at Esme's cunt. Throw her down into an abyss of self-loss. Sense the dark port wine of life's sustenance quickening beneath her skin, provoking the reckless gnarling of your teeth that might yet undo the careful orchestration of arousal. Imagine how her blood will ooze, clot and congeal, smear the palomino hue of her tanned skin.In your head, the spirit of Pandora tells you fresh prey must be tenderised, kneaded by lust and coaxed to fever-pitch before you can draw. More

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