Flawless Prize

CALEB

What isthe greatest prize of all?

I used to think it was power. Wealth. Control. Walking into a room and commanding it; showing a woman the kind of pleasure she’d only dreamed of late at night, as she lay there sticky and unsatisfied—by a man who wasn’t me.

You know those nights, all too well. When he’s collapsed beside you, already snoring, but your body still hums. Aching in all those places he couldn’t satisfy you. Desperate to be filled, to be spread open and fucked, the way he never would.

So you close your eyes in the dark, as your restless hands creep lower, to pleasure yourself where he failed. Imagining a real man who could hold you down and drive you wild. Command your body and demand your exquisite surrender.

You’ve told yourself a man like that doesn’t exist outside your aching daydreams, but you’re wrong.

I was that man.

I took those fantasies and made them flesh. Made women moan. Made them beg for more.

And then she showed me, I was just as much a captive of desire.

Soon, I was the one aching—to own her. Control her. The way she controlled my every waking thought.

The way she took command of my heart.

I’d never known a desire like that—or felt such desperate ruin in her betrayal.

Now, we’re both left in the wreckage of our broken promises.

I know now the lengths I’ll go to for desire. The rules I’ll break. The lives I’ll destroy to get to her.

Now, the only question is:

How far will I go for love?