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“Oh, bite me,” she deadpanned. His smirk grew wider. “Is that an invitation?”
“If you want to play rough,” he drawled, “I have better games we can play. Ones that involve less clothing—”
A shame, too. I feel robbed of my first time laying eyes on you.”
“This is gorgeous,” she said as she gaped down at the elaborate garment, brushing her hands over the butter-soft fabric of the skirts. “Where is it from?” “My fantasies.” He winked.
“Ophelia,” he grunted. “Fuck, angel, I never want to be anywhere else but right here. Inside you.”
“In a different life, in a fair one, I would’ve kept you until my eternal soul withered away to dust,” he vowed to her.
“In all the darkness, in all the loneliness, you have been my one source of light,” he lamented as she began to come undone. “My soul will go to its grave with your name echoing in my mind.”
