By the goddess, he was a beautiful man. I forgot everything else and could only drink the sight of him in. He was so masculine, so magnificent. It was as if the goddess herself had designed him solely for my benefit, to appeal to me, to make me choke on my own desire for him. How could I loathe him so much and still want him? To want to see his blood spill from his neck but also want to take him into our bedroom and tie him to our bed, not letting him leave?
