Dear Ophelia,
What are you trying to prove to me?
That your scent is buried within my home reminding me of every moment we shared? The sweet taste of your lips I savored digesting every piece of you. My fingers dancing down your skin as I was fucking you deeply while you let me do wonders to you all over. The pure sound of your raw moans begging for mercy—begging me to fuck you harder. Maybe fucking your soul away was what drove you madly insanely to in which you wanted more—you craved more.
Even while you're gone, I wonder if this continuous desire of yours keeps you from being sane. How could you when you're surrounded by nothing but darkness, lust, desire, and evil?
Tell me Ophelia, Am I making you horny in hell?
Love, Klaus.
YOU ARE READING
sweet catharsis, klaus mikaelson.
Romancevengeance savored on her tongue and it never tasted oh so sweet. klaus mikaelson x fem! oc. BOOK ONE OF THE MUSE COLLECTION. © HOESOCIETY
