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“Ditch the fucking ring,” he whispers against my lips, and the second that platinum band princess cut diamond is skipping over the ceramic tiles, his mouth is on mine.
“I’m gonna fuck you the way a bride deserves to be fucked on her honeymoon, and when I’m done, you’re going to thank me and ask for more.”
“You suddenly lose your hearing? Or just too distracted by my beauty to
I prop myself up at one end of the bar, as far from Lennon as possible. Her eyes narrow on mine, and I swear to God the little shit lifts her hand, scratching her nose with only her middle finger.
“You can call me Daddy, honey. My only stipulation is that I’m buried eight inches inside you while you do it.”
“Looking at you, knowing you exist in my world, that you could be mine one day and gone the next, is the most overwhelming thing I’ve ever felt.”
“We’re all scared of things,” Carter murmurs. “It’s what you do with that fear that matters.
