Anne Olson

“Before I know what the fuck I’m doing, or maybe because I have little to no self-control when it comes to her, I slide her on the desk and shift her around until her legs are no longer crossed and she’s sitting directly in front of me. Her eyes snap open wide, her jaw slipping as I work the balls of her feet while spreading her thighs wider for me. “What are you doing? We can’t.” “I hate you in that dress. I hate you in these shoes. I hate you fucking dancing.” She shakes her head, her blonde hair bouncing around her arms and chest. “That’s not your call to make. None of it is. My life, my choices.” She’s right, and I hate that too. It’s driving me crazy. I want to dress her in beautiful and expensive things that only I get to take off her. I want her beneath me, writhing in ecstasy as I make her come over and over again. I want my name on her lips and all that fear and all those dark shadows beneath her eyes eradicated forever. The only thing Liora James should know is fucking happiness because despite the shit hand she’s been playing for far too long, she’s all smiles and laughter and teasing jokes. She’s goddamn sunshine, and that’s the only thing that should ever be in her life. Not darkness.”
― J. Saman, Undeniably Corrupt