Winter
He slide his hand beneath my dress, fingers brushing against my skin as he grip my thigh, squeezing it with enough force to make sure I feels every bit of his dominance. 
Slowly, deliberately, he move his hand upwards, fingertips tracing the curve of my panties.
 The fabric feels delicate and fragile under his touch. With a decisive yank, he rip them away, the sound of tearing fabric filling the silence.
As he tear the fabric away, my gasp is sharp, a sound of both shock and vulnerability that fuels his sense of power. He smirk, relishing the control he wield over me, the way my body flinches at his touch. 
********
Zion
Craving her felt like a betrayal of everything I knew was right.
Loving her seemed to defy all moral boundaries.
She exuded innocence and seemed untouchable—too perfect, too pure for a flawed man like me.
But I couldn't resist the pull of desire.
I took her, claimed her as mine.
Together, we ignored the warnings, following the relentless beat of our hearts, blissfully forgetting one crucial truth:
Love was never supposed to be simple or straightforward. And a love as fierce and consuming as ours was never meant to endure the trials that awaited us.


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Anna Murray