-Book two in the Billionaires' Boys' Club Series-
Damian Lockwood, has fucked every rich girl there is out there. He abides by a set of rules; they must have a job, they must be financially stable (acquire a certain amount of wealth), they must be a...
Lust. A word that may not occupy your as such. A word with many different interpretations. A word that makes your question your morals.
But what was lust?
Many would say that there was multiple types of lust. Lust may be for an object. Lust may be for a job. Lust may be sexual. The most complications come from lusting after a particular person.
When we think about must, most usually we think about the list that comes with complications. Why does a feeling that manifests in everyone come with consequences? We may consistently ask ourself. We think about the infatuation, the tears, the frustrations, the anger and the sadness that comes with lust. But, some may say the feeling euphoric. But, even if the feeling is euphoric many refuse to experience it because of the complications it brings about. Because there are scared they may fall in love from just.
Because they are scared of love.
The small monitory or people who have experienced the full potential of lust live on a different level. They live with always being on cloud nine. They live with consistent fulfilment, even if it is not long term. Those people are unafraid, they have nothing to lose and are broken really. They are not scared or worried about the complications. To those people lust is their everything. Lust is their every feeling. Lust drive their everything. Lust drove their ambitions. Lust drove their many actions. Lust drove them to insanity.
But what was lust to you?
To me love was lust and lust was love. There was no difference. There wasn't a clear line and it wasn't blood nor outlandish-it was smudged.
Lust to me was so much of a familiar feeling g to me, it was like home, like a blanket wrapped around a child, like everything I ever once loved. It was so familiar that I could map out every single inch. I knew lust and the effect it had on me. Lust encompassed my every being and breathed life into me when I didn't have it. Lust drove many of my ambitions. Lust drove many of my actions. Lust drove me to insanity.
Because love was just sex.
Lust was love. Love was lust.
Because what the point of love? What was he point of wearing your heart on your sleeve when anybody could hurt you? What was the point of letting a woman in where she could see the real you?
What was the point of loving?
Did people really want to fall in love withinf their lifetimes or did they just want to have sex constantly and not be shunned for their behaviour? I never understood the need for love, it wasn't something I yearned for or desperately needed because I had lust.
Love was just infatuation and lust, nothing more.
That was lust to me.
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