Dirty Bad Wrong

They call him Masque. I call him God. The man I want to consume me, own me, break me and corrupt me. Yet I've never seen his face. His body ripples like an Adonis, sculpted in steel and dripping in sin. His flesh is inked with the mark of the chimera - one body, two very different halves. He plays hard. He plays rough. He has no limits. He's so fucking dirty bad wrong. But I love him for it. *** Lydia Marsh is always the strong one. The girl who never breaks, and sure as hell never cries. S...