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Kyle A long time ago, when I was a kid and had to be raised among monsters, I was taught to never covet anything. Everything is temporary, usable, discardable. Every. Fucking. Thing. So how come when I stare at the woman standing against the wall, all I can feel is the need to run my tongue over her cheek until I claim those parted lips? How come she’s the first thing that comes to mind in the morning and the last thing I want to see before I close my eyes? Rai Sokolov is the forbidden fruit I should’ve never tasted, because one single taste isn’t enough. Neither is the second, the third, or the tenth. She lifts her chin up even though her position is the epitome of vulnerability. Her dress is bunched up to her waist, and her underwear is gathered around her ankles. Even the frail elastic causes red lines against her smooth, pale skin. “I don’t need your hand,” she says breathlessly. “Get out.” I lean against the supply room door, crossing my legs at the ankle. “Never mind me. I’ll jus