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“What did he say?” I ask. “About me.” She stops and turns toward me with a crooked grin. “He said you were the rudest, meanest, most infuriating woman he’d ever met.” “And that made you think I’d be a good fit for this?” “No,” she replies with a shake of her head. “But he did.”
I’d rather marry a selfish, rude, ugly, entitled cow like you
Did he just call her a fucking cow??????????😭😭😭😭
“Is that a threat, wench?” I glower at him. “Sure is…brute.”
The kilt stops just above his knee and was probably specially made for him since he’s built like a tree.
He's wearing afucking skirttttttt lmfaoaoaoaoooa
“Fuck you, cow.” His words come out raspy and slurring.
Excuse you???????????
“You’re all bark and no bite, my wee wife.” “Oh, I’ll bite,” I reply with fuming anger.
🫦🫦 oh sylvie
“Let me see it again, darling. You come so pretty.”
“I don’t know what’s going through your head, but you’re out of your mind if you think all of this has been pretending. Even when we’re alone. You are my wife, Sylvie. At the end of this year, you can try to leave, and if you piss me off enough, I might let you go. But I have a feeling you won’t. Because I don’t mean nothing to you, and you know it.”
“You can’t just fuck me into submission every time we fight.” I mumble in response. “Can’t I?”
He swallows. “You look nice, wife.” “Not too bad yourself, brute.”
i love them
“She’ll kill you if she catches you going through her things.” I scoff. “I’d like to see her try. After the way she spoke to you tonight, she’s lucky I’m not doing worse.” “Aww,” he says as he steps toward me, smiling. “You sound a little protective of me, mo ghràidh.”
“Forget the blow job; seeing you give that old biddy a piece of your mind was the hottest thing you’ve done all night.”
“I need to be inside you, Sylvie. I need to make you my wife.”
I enjoy how easily I can push her buttons, and doing so has quickly turned into my favorite thing to do. Right after making her moan and purr in my bed every night.
“Look how well you take me, mo ghràidh. Like you were made for me.”
How could she possibly understand the hold she has on me?
Sylvie is not perfect. She has flaws, but she wears them on her skin like scars. And it makes her so much more beautiful.
For her, I could be better. I could leave this house more. I could be a real man. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. If that’s what she needs.
I don’t care that she’s sick or that I’ve seen her go through an entire box of tissues in a day. If that’s disgusting, so be it. She’s my woman, and I’ll take the bad with the good. “In sickness and in health, remember?” I say with my lips just inches from hers.
