Overview

I thought I knew what hunger felt like—until I let myself want her.

One invitation was all it took to loosen the rules I’d lived by, to make me question the version of myself I’d been protecting. The way she touched me wasn’t rushed or careless. It was deliberate. Curious. Like she already knew what I was trying not to admit.

Each moment draws me further into a desire I can’t rationalize away—intimacy that feels both dangerous and deeply right. The more I give in, the harder it becomes to return to the life where wanting this was never an option.

I didn’t lose control.

I chose to stop holding back.