I craved the way she came alive beneath my fingers. The way she'd let me force my will upon her tender flesh, so breakable and trusting—open to all I could teach her. The moment I laid eyes on my defenseless gatita, everything within me shifted. Everything about her sang to my most basic of needs. She made me want things that never mattered before, that had no place within my solitary existence. Amanda let me take. She let me gorge myself on all she had to give and never complained; I became addicted to her. I was supposed to be the one in control. The master of our time together. But this was never my game. I was never in charge. And now, I'm left dealing with the consequences of everything. My hunger, denial...the resentment: "I hate that I love you."