Abram~

Ambers.

Those fucking ambers will be the death of me.

How painfully beautiful someone could look—every curve, every dip I traced last night felt sculpted by God himself. Her soft moans, her sighs, the warmth of her flesh against mine... it was everything I imagined.

And yet, here I am, sitting at my desk, painfully hard for the fifth time since morning.

My hand instinctively grips my cock through my pants, a frustrated sigh leaving my lips. I never thought being inside someone could feel this good—like heaven and sin wrapped into one.

But how did this happen? She’s the woman I hate, yet my lust for her is...