More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
I was no stranger to barbarity, but those lips on my skin paired with the mewl that left them, abandoned me with nothing but ferocity. He’s mine.
God, are you trying to give me Stockholm syndrome?” “I did not kidnap you.” “No?”
Do you plan to kill me? Sell my body parts on the black market?” As if I would let anyone with a weapon near him. “Your body parts would be of no use to anyone, Toby. You’re sick.”
I was in charge and I wasn’t planning to let him leave—lucky for him; I was going to make it so he never wanted to.
“I haven’t gotten you a job because I’d miss you. There’s nothing more than that. I’m selfish, Toby, and I want you to be here when I come home—wrapped in those goddamn butterflies, waiting for me.”
“You are mine.” His voice was thick, dripping in certainty. “My baby. If you need something, I’ll provide it. If you’re sick, I’ll fix it. Your smiles, your laughs, your freckles, and those godforsaken tears all belong to me.”
“Are you obsessed with me?” It was meant to tease him—ease some of the heavy tension before I came in my pants beneath him. He cocked his head, eyes burrowing into me. “Yes.” He rasped. “I am dangerously obsessed with you.”
“I think I look like an old carrot.” “I love old carrots.” “Lucky me then.”
“Monogamously.” He spat the word. “You understand that, right? I will not share my baby.”
I hadn’t actually done anything on my own except fall asleep in the right place at the right time.
He looked at me, amusement painted throughout his handsome face. “Baby.” “What?” “Do you think you are alone when you go out?” I cocked my head. “I’m sorry?” “Toby, my men follow you everywhere. You never go anywhere alone—not to ballet, not to pizzeria’s, and sure as fuck not to lunch with Dan.”
“I hate when you cry.” “I cry a lot, Benji. I have the emotional capacity of a four-year-old.” “No.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “You have the emotional capacity of a man who’s been left behind his entire life.
I held my breath as he filled me in a single stroke.
Brooooo, no lube?????
My baby climbed me like a spider monkey,
Hold on tight, spider monkey
“Wouldn’t you like to sit on Daddy’s lap while he works? I’ll unbutton my shirt and you can suckle while I make us lots of money.”
Oof. That is,,,really cringe.
“Daddy has to take care of his hole, baby. I plan to use it often.”
If a man said this to me I'd throw hands
“I remember coming home from kindergarten and helping my dad set the table for dinner.
Bro no you don't remember that
“He has an obsession with the fucking Eiffel Tower.” “You telling me you’re going to buy him the entire monument?” “It’s not for sale.” I checked.
I’d never been interested in owning a pet but here I was, engaged in a staring contest with a pussy the size of my hand.
Now there was no reason to call it that
He’d said he missed me terribly, and if he could, he’d tear off his skin and wrap me in it so I didn’t have to be alone.
Bruh
He lifted my chin, licking at my tears.
ENOUGH
“The day I chopped his finger off and shoved it down his throat.”
Okay that's kinda hot though
Loving him made me insane.
“You gave me friends, ballet, and made me healthy enough to get a job. It’s breaking me a little… that you’re now taking them away from me.”
I mumbled a quiet mantra of gratitude each time rain pelted me in the face at high speed. This year, I had heat. Hell, I had a coat.
“Our heart beats are the same, I think.” “Of course they are, baby.” His fingers trailed up my spine, stopping to trace each individual vertebrate as if committing the insignificant pieces to memory. “Mine is yours now.”
Gag
His cock was meant for my hole—like two pieces of a kinky, queer puzzle.
Y'all vanilla as fuck
He licked at a tear. “My little crybaby. They used to anger me but now they make my cock hard.”
I actually hate him
“The Eiffel Tower, baby.”
Thanks for telling us. We would've never guessed otherwise, being in Paris and all
My Daddy knew my tears—their taste, their feel, and their purpose.
Gaggggg
