Phantom Hd Carlton Quotes

There isn’t a life where I wouldn’t be your phantom, or a death where I wouldn’t be your reaper.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to only love you in the dark when you deserve to be loved in the light?

I call you my rose because for you, I would take all your pain so you would suffer none,” I tell her softly. “I would go through hell for you. Die for you. Do anything you asked. I love you, mia rosa. More than you will ever know.

If Genevieve is my end, then I open the door to death with no hesitation.

The only waterfall I’m interested in is the one I’ll be drinking from between your thighs. Now face forward and bend over the railing, mia rosa. I won’t ask you again.

I lean closer to her ear. “No, mia rosa, not even God can have you,” I growl. “You’re mine, and you will only pray to me.

Come sit on my lap, pretty girl. Let me take care of you.

Let the ghosts judge. Unlike them, I have a life to live,

How dare he not even care! “Men,

if I wasn’t already in love with her before, I’m utterly powerless to her now.

There will never be another, nor will I live a life without you. Death awaits us all, Genevieve. Even still, it will not keep me from you.

You’ve lost your mind,” I breathe. “Since the moment I saw you,” he confirms.

What’s your name?” I ask again breathlessly. “Ronaldo.” “Do you want to hurt me, Ronaldo?” “Never,” he answers. “I only want to cherish you, Genevieve.” “How do you know my name?” “I know everything about you. Just as I know you will love me, too.

I would follow you anywhere, Genevieve. If you were standing at the edge of the earth and wanted to fall, I would only stop you long enough to take hold of your hand so I could go with you. There isn’t a life where I wouldn’t be your phantom, or a death where I wouldn’t be your reaper.

Love cannot define what I feel for you. But I will settle for it with my words and show you what I truly feel with my actions.

I’m a bad man, but I won’t be her monster. No. I want to be her savior.

There is little in life I’m deserving of—little that I allow myself to indulge in. Yet you are the crux of all my selfish desires. I would cease to breathe if I could not share air with you, Genevieve. If I can’t live with you, I refuse to at all.

I have no death wish, but some days, I have no will to live, either.

butterflies in my stomach and I are old friends,

How could Ronaldo rule hell if he makes me see heaven?

I will bleed for you, mia rosa, but I must require you to bleed for me, too,” he warns.

You fuck me so good.” “You take it so good.

If you want to know how good I make your pussy feel, then I expect you to fucking taste it, too.

Look how desperate your cunt is for me,” I snarl. “But I don’t think you know what true desperation is like, do you?

Fuck, baby, you look so goddamn pretty when you’re desperate. My needy little slut.

This is true desperation, mia rosa,” I bite out through clenched teeth. “This is what I feel when you are near. So completely taken by you that I can’t fucking breathe.

Then maybe you should spread these legs so you can show me how pretty you look when you come for me.

I beg you to suffocate me, mia rosa. I’ll die a happy man.

Such a perfect fucking cunt,” he bites out through gritted teeth. “This pussy was made for me. To fuck and fill with my cum as much as I goddamn please.

Nothing could compare to the likes of you, my love. You are the most beautiful flower and the rarest gem, more breathtaking than any of earth’s wonders.

That”—I breathe shakily—“is a dangerous weapon.” He grins cheekily. “If only it could win the war.” “It won me,” I confess. “Is that enough?

You are incapable of doing anything wrong, Genevieve. If wrapping your lips around my cock meant suffering, I’d spend the rest of my days at your mercy.

My mother told me a story about the time my father asked her out on their first date. He was in love with her and chased after her wherever she went. She said he’d asked her on dates a thousand times before, and every time she would ask him why. He would give these shallow reasons, like her beauty or her smile and so on. So, she said no. Then, one day, he came to her with a single rose in his hands, the thorns plucked from the stem. He handed it to her and asked her on a date. When she asked why, he admitted that he was dirt poor and stole that rose from his neighbor’s garden. The owner caught him and shot at him for trespassing. Clearly, he got away unscathed except for his bleeding hand. The thorns had pricked him, and he couldn’t fathom giving my mother a rose when it could hurt her. So, he sheared them from the stem and ran straight to her. He told her that despite his nearly dying, he’d do it again. That he’d put himself through hell just to see her smile. That he would take all her pain so she would suffer none.

Letting a man into my home, and kissing him. A man who isn’t my husband. A man who stood outside my window for weeks, watching me from afar. There is something wrong with him. Clearly there is something wrong with me, too.

call you my rose because for you, I would take all your pain so you would suffer none,” I tell her softly. “I would go through hell for you. Die for you. Do anything you asked. I love you, mia rosa. More than you will ever know.

I’ve never been religious, despite my berating a phantom in the sky for constantly testing my sanity.

Angelo Salvatore is a devout Catholic man, which is why he turns away his religious statues when it’s time for his cocaine fix.

In some ways, John has ruined me. Tainted me and covered me in stains that will never wash away. For the rest of my days, I will remember the ways he’s defiled not only my body but also my trust.

It’s been decades since their passing, yet still they remain together in the afterlife. Even death could not tear them apart, their love surpassing the inevitability of their mortality. One day, hopefully far in the future, Zade and I will join them, and I am so excited to meet them.

Manor and how they both frighten and excite her. My obsession for her has deepened to love, and I care little about how short of a time I’ve known her. I only care that I spend the rest of my life with her.

My mother spoke of a voice like that—said it belonged to the ruler of hell. She warned me of this being’s dangerous pull over our will and made me swear to find God during these moments. She’d be disappointed to know that I’m so delirious from Ronaldo’s touch, I wouldn’t be able to locate where the hell God is, let alone how to reach Him. I’m convinced she was a silly woman.

Don’t worry, mia rosa. I’ll make him watch while I fuck you like you deserve, then I’ll cut off his hands and cock so he can never touch you again.” I snarl, overcome with the thought. Then I whisper, “Poor Johnny-boy, bleeding out on the floor while I make his wife scream my name.

Truthfully, I was still trying to wrap my head around it. To somehow justify his actions in my head to make it hurt less.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the devil was on my shoulder, whispering to me in such a wicked way.

I’m prepared for anything, so long as it’s with you,

Ronaldo,” I whimper, overcome with a desperation I would liken to a wolf in a famine. I would do anything for him to appease this chasmal emptiness between my legs. And like a starved beast, I’m on the verge of clawing at him and sinking my teeth into his flesh if it would bring me closer to my desires.

Just as I presumed, my need for her is insatiable. I ache for more of her. She’s an itch nestled beneath numb skin. No matter how hard I dig, it can’t be scratched.

I’m a bad man, but I won’t be her monster. No. I want to be her savior.

I rather like it when you beg.

I would follow you anywhere, Genevieve. If you were standing at the edge of the earth and wanted to fall, I would only stop you long enough to take hold of your hand so I could go with you. There isn't a life where I wouldn't be your phantom, or a death where I wouldn't be your reaper.

If you tried to run away from me, I don't think I'd let you. I would do... anything to make you stay. And there are moments where I fell... Where there are things that I want to do to you that might cause you to run. And I'm afraid of that, so I walk away first.

I love you.” “I hope you weren’t hoping for a romantic moment,” I babble. “Because that was entirely unromantic of me. I’m a little ashamed that—” “If I could, I’d lower to a knee on this checkered floor and ask for your hand. It would be entirely unromantic of me, but it wouldn’t stop me, either.” “Love cannot define what I feel for you. But I will settle for it with my words and show you what I truly feel with my actions,

You look absolutely divine today, my love,” “How divine?” “Enough to feast on,” “Then prove it,” “You want me to eat you, mia rosa?” “Well, n-not actually. I—I didn’t mean—” I huff, frustrated with my stuttering. “I want you to touch me, Ronaldo. Please.” “These clothes look exquisite on you, Genevieve.” “Your clothes would look so much better on the floor, though, don’t you think?” “On the floor?” He hums his approval

Don’t you dare make a sound,” he growls, keeping his voice quiet. Yet the smallest moan leaks past his lips, unable to follow his own orders. “Don’t think I won’t kill every goddamn person in this house to save you from shame. Their blood would be on your hands, all because you can’t keep fucking quiet and take my cock like a good girl.

It would torture him, wouldn’t it, baby? Knowing that he will never fill your throat like I do.” I manage a chuckle, the sound distorted with pleasure. “He can’t even fill your cunt like I can.

I press the knife to his throat again, a silent warning that while I may not want to, I will hurt him if he dares take more than I offer.

I want to know what being loved—truly loved—by Ronaldo feels like. And I want him to know what it’s like to be truly loved by me.

If I could, I’d lower to a knee on this checkered floor and ask for your hand. It would be entirely unromantic of me, but it wouldn’t stop me, either.

You’re destroying this family, Johnathan,” I choke out, the words as unstable as my heart rate. “And I have no choice but to let you.

I’ve always been a danger to you, mia rosa. You’ve never been safe from me.

A goddamn goddess, she is. Derived directly from the myths carved into ancient ruins.

I know everything about you. Just as I know you will love me, too.

My free will is indebted to her, and without her, I am nothing.

There’s nothing gentle about the way I plan to love Genevieve Parsons.

Despite how heavily it rains outside, there’s no thunder, which cannot exist without lightning. No wonder it’s nowhere to be seen. I’ve somehow swallowed it the moment my lips touched Ronaldo’s, and the electrical currents are ravaging my insides.

No, mia rosa, not even God can have you,” I growl. “You’re mine, and you will only pray to me.

Whatever gave you the impression that I was a scared little mouse?

I would gladly bleed for you.

Would you like to see?” I ask, staring up at Ronaldo through my lashes. “I think this blouse would be a fine addition to the checkered pattern.”. “Sit down there,” he directs, pointing toward the dining room table. Utterly confused, my mouth flops. “Did I do something wr—” “No, mia rosa, you could never.” His tone is deeper now, and my lips part when I notice the rather large bulge in his trousers. Excitement replaces any ugly feelings I had moments before, and I pivot on my feet and do as he says. his footsteps echo from behind me, approaching me as slowly as he always does. Like a predator stalking his prey, keeping himself hidden until the second he pounces. He pauses directly behind me “A queen has more important duties than undressing herself. Let me take care of that for you.

Lift up for me, love,” he orders gently, his voice lined with gravel. I obey without question, allowing him to slide my slacks down until they drop to my feet and I kick free of them. “Ravishing,” he breathes. “Nothing could compare to the likes of you, my love. You are the most beautiful flower and the rarest gem, more breathtaking than any of earth’s wonders.

I am destined to love you from the shadows, mia rosa,” he says quietly. “I will never be more than your phantom.

Rather than exploring the world and trying new things and discovering who we were outside the roles we were bound in, we locked ourselves in an emptier cage and called it freedom.

The only reason he still breathes is because I’m deeply in love with his wife.

feel

What’s your name?” I ask again breathlessly. “Ronaldo.” “Do you want to hurt me, Ronaldo?” “Never,” he answers. “I only want to cherish you, Genevieve.” “How do you know my name?” “I know everything about you. Just as I know you will love me, too.

Hypnotized, I drift toward her, my mind vacuumed into a trance that it can’t seem to find its way out of. I’m not only riveted by her. I’m possessed by a need to have her. And she must be mine

I came here to learn who John Parsons is, and the only thing I know is that he comes home to the most beautiful woman alive.

She plagues my mind, infecting it like a parasite and overriding any autonomy over myself. My free will is indebted to her, and without her, I am nothing. I shut the door to my Cadillac and can only sit there and mourn the life of John Parsons’s wife. She will never be the same, as I am not. Her husband has unintentionally dragged her into a world where she doesn’t belong. Yet it is I who will never let her leave.

If Genevieve is my end, then I open the door to death with no hesitation.

I fear he has created an insatiable monster, and now he must live with the consequences.

A mad woman, he has made me. But if this is madness, I don’t ever want to be sane.

Some days, I worry that I’ll end up here with them.

I can’t keep up any longer, and I’m beginning to favor the ghosts that haunt these halls.

But my little rose has gone through life without ever being plucked from her place of comfort. Before her husband turned to the bottle, he treated her delicately, those thorns keeping her safe in gentle hands. How unfortunate for her that I’d gladly bleed if it means crushing her beneath my fist.

This is what I feel when you are near. So completely taken by you that I can’t fucking breathe.

I shouldn’t have come as hard as I did, and I should be ashamed. But I did, and I’m not.

And since I’m beholden to my promise to Genevieve, I suppose the only thing for me to do is spend every waking hour loving her the way she deserves.

Every human on this earth is born pure, and all it takes is one day, one decision to change that forever. And sometimes, the damage can last a lifetime.

The only waterfall I’m interested in is the one I’ll be drinking from between your thighs.

The thorns had pricked him, and he couldn’t fathom giving my mother a rose when it could hurt her. So, he sheared them from the stem and ran straight to her. He told her that despite his nearly dying, he’d do it again. That he’d put himself through hell just to see her smile. That he would take all her pain so she would suffer none.

My imagination did not do it justice. When he kissed me, I flew into the stars. I don’t think I’ve come back down yet.

You think I need your permission to play with this pretty pussy whenever I please?

I would dare to do so with your husband right next to us, forced to watch while I lick you and fuck you. And neither of you could do a damn thing about it.

That’s it, baby. You’re doing such a good job. Let me see how pretty you look when you come all over my fingers.

Be a good girl and fucking come for me, Genevieve. Don’t make me ask you again.

You’re so goddamn pretty when you come. Fuck, Genevieve. Keep fucking my fingers. Your pussy is squeezing them so tight.

You’ve lost your mind,” I whisper. “Since the moment I saw you, mia rosa.

Let the ghosts judge. Unlike them, I have a life to live, and I might as well enjoy it before I join their miserable souls in the afterlife.

Shall I continue to beg?

There is nothing more divine than a cunt that weeps. It would be an honor to taste you, Genevieve.

We can go as slow as you wish, mia rosa, but my love is as gentle as it is fierce. And when it comes to your pleasure, my needs are insatiable,” he warns. “Even when you’re begging for mercy, I will still hunger for more. And I will take it.

You taste like nirvana. I could drown in your pussy.

You beg for me like a whore, Genevieve,” he murmurs. “So fuck me like one.

That’s it, baby. I want every soul in this damn house to hear you scream my name.

I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe without you near,

I will bleed for you, mia rosa, but I must require you to bleed for me, too,

I would follow you anywhere, Genevieve. If you were standing at the edge of the earth and wanted to fall, I would only stop you long enough to take hold of your hand so I could go with you. There isn’t a life where I wouldn’t be your phantom, or a death where I wouldn’t be your reaper.” He

Because you possess my lungs, as you do my heart, Genevieve. And I intend to take yours for myself,” he answers,

Then, one day, he came to her with a single rose in his hands, the thorns plucked from the stem. He handed it to her and asked her on a date. When she asked why, he admitted that he was dirt poor and stole that rose from his neighbor’s garden.

feel of her soft skin against mine. “I call you my rose because for you, I would take all your pain so you would suffer none,” I tell her softly. “I would go through hell for you. Die for you. Do anything you asked. I love you, mia rosa. More than you will ever know.

Yet I fear she’s meant to end me.

When he kissed me, I flew into the stars. I don’t think I’ve come back down yet.

I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe without you near,” he whispers softly, finally—finally—gracing me with his voice.

Because you possess my lungs, as you do my heart, Genevieve. And I intend to take yours for myself,

I have a life, yet I’m no less a prisoner than the ghosts that haunt these hallways.

I’d love nothing more than to be consumed by her words, no matter how they greet me. Whether it’s through those red-stained lips or from her delicate hands. I want to know every facet of her, every centimeter of her—mind, body, and soul.

Her husband has unintentionally dragged her into a world where she doesn’t belong. Yet it is I who will never let her leave.

I’d love nothing more than to see her bare ass reddened by my hand. Or the faintest of bruises around her neck where my fingers grip as I drive into her. And those beautiful eyes filled with tears, pleading for me not to go any deeper down her throat.

He spoon-fed me lavish fantasies when he courted me, and like a fool, I ate them up.

It’s physically painful for me to walk away from her, but I know that I must. I’m a bad man, but I won’t be her monster. No. I want to be her savior.

I call you my rose because for you, I would take all your pain so you would suffer none,

Love cannot define what I feel for you. But I will settle for it with my words and show you what I truly feel with my actions,

A queen has more important duties than undressing herself. Let me take care of that for you.

You wanted to act like a whore, baby, so you’re going to take my cock like one.

When he cradled me to his chest and told me about the beautiful love story between his parents, it settled my aching heart a little. And then, when he looked down upon me, even more beautiful words spilling from his lips, it started to sing. I couldn’t help but ask him to sing, too. I wanted to know if his voice would harmonize with the melody in my heart. It did.

She’s a beauty among the ashes that seem to collect in this damned home.

Theme Song: Bad Omens—“Bad Decisions

I wanted to hurt her, all right, but her screams would have been in ecstasy rather than pain. All I want that woman to do is love me like I love her.

Be a good girl and fucking come for me, Genevieve. Don’t make me ask you again,” he snarls, his tone dropping wickedly.

I didn’t hate her for loving him so much, but I resented her for loving him more than me.

I got this from saving a baby raccoon when I was fifteen,

What is she writing? And will she write about me?

What’s your name?” I ask again breathlessly. “Ronaldo.” “Do you want to hurt me, Ronaldo?” “Never,” he answers. “I only want to cherish you, Genevieve.

I fear he has created an insatiable monster, and now he must live with the consequences. A mad woman, he has made me. But if this is madness, I don’t ever want to be sane.

Not only is Genevieve my sole reason for living but she’s also the piece of shrapnel that I can’t seem to remove. She’s a weakness, and one day, she just might be the death of me.

Does one stand beneath a waterfall expecting to breathe?” he retorts, clearly unconcerned. “I beg you to suffocate me, mia rosa. I’ll die a happy man.

Undoubtedly, I will miss them. But there is nothing more fulfilling than you, Genevieve. I will gladly wash my hands clean of blood if it means your hands will replace it.

Some days, I wonder if I’ll meet my own tragic end here, too.

Killing offers you relief. But you must decide if ending a life is better than experiencing your own, my friend.

Don’t think I won’t kill every goddamn person in this house to save you from shame. Their blood would be on your hands, all because you can’t keep fucking quiet and take my cock like a good girl.

I’ve always loved cookies. Maybe because I enjoy eating things that are sweet and melt on my tongue.

All I want that woman to do is love me like I love her. I want it to be all-consuming. To be so goddamn deep, a lobotomy couldn’t even carve me out of her head.

These reactions—they’re nothing compared to how my body behaves the moment my lips connect with his. Despite how heavily it rains outside, there’s no thunder, which cannot exist without lightning. No wonder it’s nowhere to be seen. I’ve somehow swallowed it the moment my lips touched Ronaldo’s, and the electrical currents are ravaging my insides.

Relax, mia rosa,” he soothes. “Your body knows what to do, so just let it happen.

I’m a slave to the euphoria, and all I can do is succumb to it.

I’ve begun to loathe my husband, I sure do love the little human he helped me create. And for that, I’m grateful for him anyway.

You think you’ll scare me—that you’ll make me scream. Yet screaming for you is exactly what I would love to do, Ronaldo.

My cum will leak down your thighs while you’re dancing with your husband. If you dare to wipe it away, I’ll expose you in front of everyone and make him swallow it,

Such a good girl. I’m so fucking proud of you, baby.

So, while I mourn the death of our marriage, I can’t find it in me to forgive him. Nor can I find it in me to fall back in love with him again. To put it simply, John Parsons doesn’t deserve my love. Not anymore.

When you become the ocean, I will gladly sink into you, mia rosa.

I came here to learn who John Parsons is, and the only thing I know is that he comes home to the most beautiful woman alive. And he doesn’t deserve it one damn bit.

I call you my rose because for you, I would take all your pain so you would suffer none,” I tell her softly. “I would go through hell for you.

Die for you. Do anything you asked. I love you, mia rosa. More than you will ever know.

Did you think I was lying when I said there are things I want to do to you that would make you want to run away? And I told you that if you try, I wouldn’t let you. I still mean that, my love.

She plagues my mind, infecting it like a parasite and overriding any autonomy over myself. My free will is indebted to her, and without her, I am nothing.

How cruel it is that Mother Nature spent millions of years forming such a beautiful sight only for you to exceed it within mere minutes.

Good boy. You sound so pretty when you beg.

I’m not only riveted by her. I’m possessed by a need to have her.

What’s your name?” I ask again breathlessly. “Ronaldo.” “Do you want to hurt me, Ronaldo?” “Never,” he answers. “I only want to cherish you, Genevieve.” “How do you know my name?” “I know everything about you. Just as I know you will love me, too.

What has gotten into all these men? I can’t keep up any longer, and I’m beginning to favor the ghosts that haunt these halls. At least they are predictable.

You don’t want me,” I surmise breathlessly. “So, what do you want?” “I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe without you near. Because you possess my lungs, as you do my heart, Genevieve. And I intend to take yours for myself.

I will bleed for you, mia rosa, but I must require you to bleed for me, too.

Men. My disdain for them even surpasses the physical realm.

I’m sorry, my love,” I rasp, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I lost my mind.” “Have you found it?” I shake my head. “Not since the first moment I saw you.

How does one breathe when the one who possesses their lungs is standing behind them?

You look absolutely divine today, my love.” “How divine?” I whisper breathlessly. “Enough to feast on.

Do you like the way I make your cunt feel, mia rosa?

They might think you’re being fucked,” he continues, his tone wicked. “And I’d be happy to show them just how much of a slut you are for me.

Don’t you dare make a sound. Don’t think I won’t kill every goddamn person in this house to save you from shame. Their blood would be on your hands, all because you can’t keep fucking quiet and take my cock like a good girl.

My cum will leak down your thighs while you’re dancing with your husband. If you dare to wipe it away, I’ll expose you in front of everyone and make him swallow it.

God, baby, you suck me so pretty.

Such a good girl,” I whisper. “What would your husband think of seeing you like this, gagging on my cock?

Such a pretty whore for me, mia rosa.” “If I were your whore,” she whispers, “you’d fuck my mouth like one.

That’s it, baby, that’s how you suck my fucking cock. Such a desperate little slut for me, aren’t you? You fucking love choking on it, don’t you?

My God, Genevieve,” I choke out. “Are you trying to kill me?” “How else will we spend eternity together?

Did you think I wanted reading material while you ride my cock? No, baby. I’m giving you the material. Now, write.

Haven’t I told you before? I rather like when you beg.” “Fuck, Genevieve, please,” he pleads, his voice lined with gravel. “Please ride my cock. Please make me come. Please fuck me. I need it so bad, baby.” I moan. “Good boy. You sound so pretty when you beg.

Come for me, baby. I want you to milk my fucking cock.

That’s my good girl,” he croons. “You’re so good at being my whore, aren’t you? So fucking eager to please me. So desperate for my cock.

Now crawl to me, mia rosa.

You don’t want me,” I surmise breathlessly. “So, what do you want?” He shakes his head in disagreement, and when his lips part, I cease to breathe. “I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe without you near,” he whispers softly, finally—finally—gracing me with his voice. “W-why?” I force out finally, the word coming out as a pathetic squeak “Because you possess my lungs, as you do my heart, Genevieve. And I intend to take yours for myself,” he answers, his voice deepening impossibly further. His other hand closes around mine, where I hold the blade to his throat. He doesn’t remove it from his skin but rather presses it in deeper. I gasp, resisting, but he doesn’t allow it. “I will bleed for you, mia rosa, but I must require you to bleed for me, too,

Husbands don’t hurt their wives the way I want to hurt her. They save those darker desires for their salacious nights in brothels, where those actions are considered disrespectful but acceptable. Men are supposed to be gentle with the women they love. Take care of their fragile bodies and treat them like fine china.

It’s cool outside today, yet I burn beneath his gaze. The sun could extinguish from the sky, and his embrace would still keep me warm.

I shouldn’t lead him to believe that this is anything other than a crime. Or that I’m anything other than a helpless victim. I don’t feel like a victim, though. I feel . . . powerful. Like I possess everything this handsome stranger could ever want, and it’s up to me to decide if I give it to him.

But the second I close the door and lock myself in, my mask breaks apart like a beaten piñata.

I shouldn’t lead him to believe that this is anything other than a crime. Or that I’m anything other than a helpless victim.

Then his lips caress the shell of my ear, evoking another tremor. “A queen has more important duties than undressing herself. Let me take care of that for you.

I’m not only riveted by her. I’m possessed by a need to have her. And she must be mine.

I will always stand between you and a bullet.

But what else do I love? Do I love nature? This waterfall is beautiful, and I hadn’t thought to explore other wonders of this earth. Do I love long walks on the beach at sunset, or do I prefer to watch the sunrise? Am I afraid of the ocean? Or do I dare swim out into its depths and let it welcome me in? I love the written word, but what other forms of artistry do I enjoy? Am I an artist? Can I paint? Draw? Play an instrument? I can sing, sure, but what if I want to sing to thousands and not just a family of two? There are so many questions I have about myself—questions I didn’t realize I desperately need to know the answer to. I had never thought to ask them before because so much of my life revolved around being a mother and a wife.

You are the most beautiful flower and the rarest gem

What's your name?" I ask again breathlessly. "Ronaldo." "Do you want to hurt me, Ronaldo?" "Never," he answers. "I only want to cherish you, Genevieve." "How do you know my name?" "I know everything about you. Just as I know you will love me, too.

If Genevieve is my end

Have you ever touched yourself?" he asks, his hands sliding up my thighs, eliciting a full-body shiver. Breathing heavily, I shake my head. His hands pause at the junction between my thigh and pelvis. "Baby, tell me you've at least had an orgasm before," he says, his tone nearly a plea. "I-I don't know. How would I know if I have?" His blue eye darkens to a color similar to the Sound at the bottom of the cliff. A dark, stormy color that exhibits clear displeasure. "You would know, my love," he answers, a mischievous curl to his lips.

I’m a bad man

Gobbledygook: Talking nonsense