It was supposed to be enough. Moral licensing I didn’t think twice about, until the lines bled too fully for me to distinguish between them. Until Elena. The most forbidden of fruits. Persephone to my Hades, as some used to call me. Springtime in a world rife with death and destruction. A woman I scorned until I found myself blinded by a new obsession. Until I tasted her—the dewy essence of her supple skin, the tang of her arousal glistening on her own fingertips, the salt of her tears as I shattered the last vestiges of her innocence. Whether she knows it or not, she gave herself to me that
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