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want to be fucked—held down, hair pulled, slap my ass and call me your good little slut, fucked.
don’t care what any man tells you—we know pretty quickly if we’re going to let you go or want you to stick around.
I’m not Jesus, nor do I have Alzheimer’s. I don’t forgive, and I don’t forget.”
“Depend on a man to feed you, and you give him the power to starve you.”
She’s my altar, where I kneel and repent for all the sins I’ve committed over the years. The souls I’ve taken.
“I’m serious about you. About us.” He runs his hands through my hair. “So, if you don’t want that, I’ll let you leave. But just know I want you to stay.”
“And when a King finds his queen, he’s one hundred percent committed.”
This woman is my damnation. I’ve always known I was going to hell; now I know it’ll be her who sends me there. Because I will do absolutely anything for her. She doesn’t even have to ask.
A Queen protects her King. She stands in front of him because she knows he’s got her back.
They can have my Kingdom, but they will never touch my Queen. I will set fire to the world and watch it all burn, me included, before I let her pay for my sins.
