Showing results by author "Rina-Saint" in All Categories

I don’t know what’s wrong with me to want something like this. To pay money for something like this. But I love it, even in my terror, even with tears streaming down my face as I race through the dark. What’s happening is my fantasy, isn’t it? Not some random person chasing me? The uncertainty adds to my panic. But when he catches me and throws me down, when his powerful body dominates mine, I know it’s him. The one who’s been instructing me via text. The one I need. The problem is, once won’t be enough. But this one brutal, blissful moment is all I can afford.

I’ve been keeping secrets from my boss. I have to. Because how the hell do you tell a straight man that you’ve been in love with him for years? If he found out, everything would collapse, and I’ve worked so hard to hold my life together, all these pieces that I don’t deserve: a home, a position, trust. But it’s only getting harder because he keeps watching me, keeps touching me—and I can’t handle it. I try to tell myself that it’s in my head, but it’s not. Something’s changed between us, and I don’t understand.

I’m a beast pacing around my cage waiting for the next fight. It’s all I have, those brief moments of rage and destruction. It’s a sort of freedom. Then I go back into the cold, dark emptiness. That’s why I don’t speak anymore. What’s the point? I stopped being human a long time ago. I’ve given up on anything but that cycle of violence and isolation—until they throw him into my cage. They expect me to kill him as soon as he gets me through my injuries. That’s what I usually do.

What the hell is Dominic Capelli doing in my club? Best guess, he wants revenge. I did shoot his father, after all. And, yeah, he’s looking at me like he wants to hurt me. The thing is … I’m very much into that. I know it’s a bad idea to play with him, but bad ideas are my favorite kind. And he's so very, very sexy.

My moral compass is broken. That’s why I need rules. They keep me from killing people I shouldn’t. They keep me from crossing certain lines. I’m possessive. Obsessive. Deviant. And I like to fight. That’s what I see in Tristan when I spot him working in the swanky nightclub. His cool detachment is a mask. He’s angry, he’s lost, and he’s totally new to what he’s feeling. I want to feel that anger.