Berlin: The Writer Lives the Life of a Time-limited Villain

Someone was licking down her neck. It must be part of a dream… a very vivid one. Electrical impulses sprung up through the blood vessels of her body. “It’s you who planned tonight, but you’re treating me as if I’m the unscrupulous one.” “What the hell?!” I had to give up saying any more words. It was strangely stimulating. It was like she was wearing someone else’s body and not her own. Her gaze stopped on the snake-shaped tattoo on his forearm. “Um, maybe… Of course not… You’re not Red Ross, the Duke of Vermont, are you?” “What answer do you want to hear? Do you mean you want to erase the night you spend with me from your mind?” Red Ross, the Duke of Vermont, married Berlin of the A...