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“This pussy is fucking mine tonight,”
“I want you bare. I want to see my cum dripping down your leg.”
“Do you give me per...
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“No, baby, I need to hear it. Tell me what you want.” “I . . .” She gulps. “I want you to fill me with your cum.” “Mmm.” I drag my nos...
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“I’m more than okay.” When her dreamy eyes open and she looks up at me, I feel this twinge of protection cover me in an instant. This is my girl. I just claimed her. Marked her. Let everyone know around us that she is not to be fucked with.
Hattie fucking Rowley just rocked my goddamn world. And now I don’t think I’ll ever recover. This is it for me. I’ve reached the pinnacle. Nothing and no one will ever be better than her. That’s a shocking revelation because I’m still getting to know this girl, but fuck, I don’t ever want her to leave my life. Not when she made me . . . hell, she made me feel again. She’s made me realize what a heartbeat feels like again. A pulse. She’s made me breathe. Lifted my chin. Opened my eyes to the world around me when I’d done nothing but kept my head down since the moment my mom abandoned me.
my hands, and the first thing that pops into my head is the word: mine. She’s all fucking mine.
“Everything good?” I ask. “Everything’s perfect,” she answers. “I wasn’t too rough?” I press a kiss to her neck. “No, I loved it. Everything. I loved everything.”
“Good,” I say as I nibble up her neck because you’re not getting any sleep tonight.
“Excuse me?” he asks in disgust. I laugh even louder. “I’m not fucking old. Watch your mouth or I’ll shove my dick in it the minute we stop this car.” “As if that’s a punishment.” “Watch it,”
“Is this how it’s going to be? You just fucking me every chance you get?” “Do you have a problem with that?” “Nope, not as long as you still wine and dine me. Just don’t want to be treated like a fling.” “Trust me, babe, you’re anything but a fling.”
“This is too good to be true. Like . . . I don’t fucking deserve you.” “Yes, you do.”
“I trust you with my heart. You haven’t done anything to prove me differently. In fact, every chance you’ve had, you’ve protected me. You’ve put me and my needs first. The pickles, the job, letting Maggie stay at your house, my relationship with my brother, the apartment . . . you’ve always put me first, no matter what. This isn’t too good to be true. This is real because we’ve worked at it. You’ve worked at it. Okay?”
“Fuck, I like you, Hattie.” “I like you, too,” I say. “A lot.”
“Good, because I’m so fucking attached to you that I’m not sure I could let you go at this point.”
“You bette...
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