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“I can’t believe this. I’m marrying a child. And not a normal child—a demon hellspawn, like Chucky, or the Children of the Corn . . .”
I content myself with smiling up at him and saying, “In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.”
“Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”
The great Callum Griffin. He’s their JFK, and I’m supposed to be their Jackie Kennedy.
I’d rather be Lee Harvey Oswald.
I look down at my lady bits, which are now completely bald on the left side.
WHAT THE FUCK LMAOOO
I’ve got about two-thirds of my pussy waxed,
ok!!!
I should wait until he’s sleeping, then slap hot wax on his balls.
But when I break up with a woman, I feel the same as when I throw away an old pair of shoes. I know I’ll find a new one soon enough.
WHAT.
The point of that, obviously, was to get her ready for tonight. I’m supposed to consummate the marriage, and I’m not fucking some
messy little ragamuffin in flip flops and jean shorts. I expect her to be properly groomed, from head to toe.
The important thing is how I’m going to punish her for this. She’s made a serious mistake, poking the bear over and over again. It’s time for me to wake up and give her a good slap. She’ll get what’s coming to her tonight.
WHAAAT
I set my teeth, imagining taking out every one of my frustrations on Aida’s tight little ass tonight.
THIS IS WHAT YALL LIKE
I’d get Aida pregnant right this second, purely because of how furious it would make her. That would be one way to tame the wild beast.
wtf
what.
I put my lips up against his ear and I whisper, “Do you want me, Cal?” “I don’t want you,” he moans, his voice husky and raw. “I need you.”
“You’re mine, Aida,” Callum growls in my ear. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to touch you.”
“If you EVER talk to my wife like that again, I’ll empty that clip in your chest.”
what the fuck
