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Because the only thing more painful than the company of a disappointing man, is chafing.
Savannah gets that our curvy girl thighs make fire! And not the good kind.
His arm tightens again as he grunts, “Heavy.” This bastard. Still terrified, his shitty comment is enough to spur me out of this frozen state. I claw at the hand over my mouth. My filed short nails barely even scratching his skin. “Knock that off.” He gives me a little shake. “I like ‘em heavy.”
Life is way more fun when you just let yourself feel and don’t bother with psychoanalyzing every moment to death.
Savannah’s hands, which had been fidgeting in her lap, get shoved back between her thighs. Her thick, jiggly thighs that I want to take a fucking nap on.
“I’ll let you stay in here by yourself tonight, but starting tomorrow, you will be sleeping at my side.” Savannah slowly crosses her arms, putting a barrier between us. “Why? What’s happening tomorrow?” I grin. “We’re getting married.” Her mouth drops open.
“I won’t force myself inside of you, Savannah Baby. But I am dying to come all over those pretty tits, so don’t fucking tempt me.”
“Do you, King Bartholomew Vass, agree to take Savannah Jane Oates, as your reluctant wife? In sickness and in health? In rich and richer times. Do you promise to be a faithful captor, for as long as you both shall live?”
Freaking Nero. I love him.
“And do you, Savannah Jane Oates, take King Bartholomew Vass, to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to be cooperative and faithful? To be the best wife you can be? To not slit King’s throat while he sleeps?”
Nero is gold.
“But if you ever look at my wife like that again, I’ll remove your eyeballs from your skull.” He pauses. “Understand?”
“If that shirt belonged to another man, I’m going to rip it off your fucking body.” “Rip,” I repeat the word, popping the P.
My wife is a freak and it’s about to make me come.
“Coming on my tongue is for good girls.” I crawl over her body. “Have you been good, Savannah?”
“Please, who?” I demand. “Who am I?” She tries to pull me closer. “You’re my King.”
“You’re not my prisoner. You’re my Queen.”
