November nights are especially stricken with melancholy, as if the ghosts of all winter past come rushing to haunt her heart.
She was a captive of her love, her desire, and her dreams.
There's always a special quality to the loneliness of dusk, a sorrowness more infectious than the night.
She had earned his trust. She had never strayed, betrayed, abandoned. She'd been stalwart, true, loving.
To her, he was her everything. But to him, she was only a secret.
He was a prince and she was merely his lover.
•
Dismount your high horse. come take claim of the girl you ruined. Come lay eyes upon the desolation you left in your wake.
Do you not hear the devil at your shoulder sharpening his daggers? He sits heavy on your subconscious. Dauntingly smirking at me from afar.
Enough of his wretched sins, speak to me with your eyes and perhaps somewhere, some day, at less miserable times, we may repent.
In the arms of dusk.
"Oh really. I'd say you really enjoyed my visit." He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He walked closer to her until she had to use her hand to stop him from crushing her against the wall. He bent his head and nipped a small line from her neck to her ear.
She felt heat travel through her body and a tingle that started on the lower part of her spine and traveled through her body. Her mind was clouded with a haze of lust and she tried to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape as he continued his assault on her neck and ear.
She couldn't believe that just a little touch from him could cause so much fire inside her. A fire she thought she didn't possess. She felt herself climbing higher and higher on the waves of passion and just as she reached her peak, he shot her down.
"If you didn't believe me before, you have your answer now."
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