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To all the good girls with fire in their bones, who drift into fantasies of being a queen by day and a slut by night. This one’s for you. Burn, girl. Burn.
Some say time is our most valuable commodity, the only thing we can never get back. For me, time is a storm in which I am forever lost.
His look is otherworldly, Damon-esque from The Vampire Diaries. Not that I think this guy is a vampire, but he’s certainly not average or normal or maybe even human. A smile explodes across his face—a beam of light that bleeds of danger and safety at once. If I wasn’t so pissed off with my current reality and was thinking clearer, maybe I’d run from this devil who shines with a deceptive celestial glint. Who am I kidding? I’ve never wanted to plummet to the depths of Hell more.
I’m not one to settle. If I can’t have the blaze I desire, I’d rather celebrate a life of ashes than fool myself into believing the warmth of an ember is enough.
“You’re the one I need, Ivy.”
“Look at that. You talk like a brat, but you jumped right up to do as I ordered. Good girl, Ivy. You’ll do just fine.”
“Anyone can be the light when the sun is shining. It takes a goddamn force to strike with a crash so bright that even the outlines of the raging clouds are illuminated.”
“Liam, I love you like a brother, but if you value your life, you’d be wise to keep your fucking hands off my wife.”
“Don’t test me. Someone touches you, they don’t disappear or lose a finger; they lose their life.”
Time has warped to nothing, my existence distorting into a Salvador Dali painting—surreal with the burden of melting clocks.
“Tell me you know there is nothing more important to me than you. No matter what else happens, I need you to know that.”
“Because I’m in love with you. So in love that you make me lose my goddamn mind.”
Granting my girl her greatest fantasies so she knows without a doubt that she’s mine. My pretty little slut. My good girl. My fucking queen.
“No moment before you was living. You, Little Storm, are my life, the light striking through the darkness, as close to Heaven as I’ll ever get.”
“I want your cum, Chief. Dripping out of me or in my mouth. I need to taste you.”
Me, on the other hand? I’ll stare those bitches in the eye and lodge a bullet in their brains without a second thought for what they did to my wife. And I’ll sleep all the better because of it. No one will ever look at my girl cross-eyed and live to tell the tale. Maybe that makes me soulless. Maybe that makes me a villain in her story instead of a hero. I can live with that.
A hero sacrifices for the greater good, saving the world before the girl. But the villain? That woman he craves, who lights up the sinful, blood-lusting, Hell-damned embers of his fractured soul—he’ll sprinkle the forests and mountains and fields with gasoline, strike a thousand matches, and dance with her amid the flames.
“I never wanted a doe, baby. Anyone can command the weak or steer the docile. It takes a god to conquer the storm.”
