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I’ve just never been good with choices. Don’t appreciate them. Don’t care for them. Would rather not be presented with one.
Brandon’s eyes widen to a dark, hypnotizing blue, and he rewards me with another noise, low and fucking needy.
“Sweet dreams, lotus flower.”
admit the inevitable. “Want to blame me again?” I murmur against his skin. A puff of air leaves his mouth and he nods once. “Then blame me all you want, baby.”
“Mine. Every inch of you is fucking mine.”
He distances himself from the girl—in your face—and leans against a table, ankles crossed, as he continues staring at the screen.
“Do I have to say it?” “Uh-huh.” “I don’t want to end it.”
“Only with you,”
Only with you.
You better remember who the fuck you belong to, Nikolai.
“Because this means I love the fucking shit out of you, baby. I can’t live without you and you’re not allowed to leave me.”
“Even if you hate yourself, I’ll love you for the both of us.”
