She hated him.  Hated his beautiful face.  Hated his unflinching eyes.  Hated the way he could speak volumes to her without uttering a single word.  Hated his hands, and their sense of entitlement to her body.  But mostly, she hated herself for allowing the pure pleasure of him.  Having him on her, in her, it seemed his very being had become an appendage.  She was never one to play the victim.  Though, as she sat up and rolled her now grass-stained dress down from her waist, she felt nothing less than one.  She did whenever he was within proximity.  Chlo stood up with a finality that was lost on him.  Dorian didn’t know it yet, but this was the last time.  Not by her own volition, but the last all the same. Continue Reading »