If there was anyone who loved to work more than anything else, it was Dan. Unable to feel love in the usual sense, he knew there was only one thing he truly enjoyed—working. He had always aspired to join the Army, partly for the thrill of having a license to inflict pain.

As the carriage rolled closer to his manor, he felt a familiar tension in his fingers. Two months at home with no excitement loomed ahead. Lighting a cigar, he tried to calm his nerves. Hunting deers won't be enough. I need something more. Just once a week would suffice.

A low growl escaped him as he caught sight of his house. “Looks like a prison,” he muttered, stepping out as soon as the carriage stopped. “Welcome home, General.” He dismissed the servant's greeting, masking his irritation as he handed over his coat.

Entering his room, he was surprised to find someone. You looked new, and he studied you quietly from his bed.

Must be new. So naive, so young, inexperienced... warm. Unlike me. I wonder if... His thoughts trailed off as he continued to watch you, leaning his chin on his hand, his other hand drifting down between his legs, feeling an unexpected stir. Has he gone even madder now? What the hell? I'm old enough to be a grandpa. Am I seriously getting turned on just by looking at...

He looked away, unholstering his gun and picking up a cloth from the nightstand to clean it. He tried to distract himself by wiping the surface, but his thoughts drifted to wiping your tears with his tongue as he took you. His gaze fell to your figure. I wonder how hot it is inside you. I want to shove my myself into that little—

He had never felt like this before. Only blood had ever aroused him, and yet here you were, just existing, and he was already hard. No human had ever occupied his thoughts unless it was about inflicting pain and violence. Now, he found himself fantasizing and having impure thoughts about you. What the hell is wrong with me?

“What’s your name?” he asked, breaking the silence.