I was hurt. 

        She could see through my layers. She answered my worry, " You know", she tiptoed to the couch and sunk right next to me, "I don't want a boyfriend, I don't want to date.

        I don't want someone to take me out to dinners and lift me off the floor later carrying me to bed. 

        A guy to pick me up in surprises and cause butterflies in my stomach, I don't want that.

        I hate Valentine's Day.

        Can't stand the sad complexions of weeping exes and tricked ones. Sure don't like for a guy to show up on my door with flowers that will wilt the next day, I can't clean his mess up.

        To get a shoulder to cry on? What will I be crying about? That he cheated on me? That he didn't do this or that? That his dog has died? The ridiculous, obvious love drama? 

        I don't want a lover, Noah. 

        (She came close enough that I could feel her breath on my neck. Her eyes glowing and as clear as ever. 

        Pulled away and took a sip of the warm coffee then returned to my side)

        I want a selfish dude, one who will not make any effort to show me how much I do or don't matter to him. One who will fuck me and flee without taking a shower in my place. (It frightened me, and I almost ran)

        Ew! I hate good boys. (she looked disgusted before she became serious once again. What a threatening face?)

        I want a bad boy, one who will get me horny on the sofa and leave without satisfying me. That one, who will give his all in bed when he feels like it.

        I don't want to wake up in bed the next morning. I want him to loosen the bolts, I want a man who will break my bed. 

        Yeah! I want to moan in pleasure, then I want to cry_ a very sweet cry. Fuck! I want to scream. 

        Don't give me that shy look, it's not pleasing at all. (She threatened me after I reached my limit)

        I want to be pounded. Not to be left with a cry, to be made scream. I want that kind of man, who will make me scream like I am being robbed.

        Scream as if I have just witnessed a murder. Better, like I have watched a horror movie, seen a ghost… 

        I want to be choked, to feel his hands on my neck. To take gasps of air. (She put her hand on my thigh lightly making me shiver) To feel hands on my chest.

        I don't want hands to be placed on my boobs, I want them to grab me. I want to feel the pressure holding my boobs like they are bugs. 

        (Her mouth was closer to my neck, inches away. I could feel her warm breath. The voice itself made me break. Sprinting heart, burning body, sweating. I was all kind of aroused and afraid. She was turning into a savage)

        I want the nipples to be hardened, then, I want them to be pinched. I want to feel pain, I want that pain to run through my spine and come out in screams.

        I want to feel something in my mouth. I want to feel warm lips on mine. Juicy ones like yours. (she looked at my lips making me swallow gulps of lust and terror)

        I want the lights on. 

        I don't want to be fucked in the dark like I'm a ghost. I want to look at his animal face, to stare inside into his eyes. To be frightened by the evil in him. 

        That's what I want."

To Be Continued