I was supposed to be the one in control. The master of our time together.
The moment I laid eyes on my defenseless gatita, everything within me shifted. Her mere presence sang to my baser needs; she let me gorge myself on her taste-on the feel of her wrapped around me-until I became addicted.
I craved the way she came alive beneath my fingertips.
The way she'd let me force my will upon her tender flesh.
So breakable. So trusting.
She made me want things that never mattered before, that had no place within my solitary existence.
But, this was never my game. I was never in charge. And now, I'm left dealing with the consequences of everything. My hunger, denial-the resentment:
"I hate that I love you."