Waking up to my sin
It was a tableau of beautiful depravity, a masterpiece of sin designed to drown out the world outside.
I was lost in the rhythm of it. The gray fog in my mind hadn't cleared, but the white-hot heat in my blood had taken a primal, drug-like command, overriding every flickering instinct of "wrongness" with a raw, carnal intensity.
Sienna was beneath me, her dark hair fanned out across the pillows like a spilled inkwell. She wasn't a woman who sought tenderness or the soft sanctuary of love; she was a creature of chaos who craved the jagged edge of a blade. As I gripped her hips with bruising force, my fingers digging deep into her pale, flushed skin, she arched her back like a bow. I watched