The Fox and the Falcon (No Other Gods Book 2)

by Piper C.J.

There were dozens of reasons to let someone into your bed. Intimacy, stress relief, boredom, experimentation, and lust, to name a few. I once fucked a girl—poorly, I might add—who’d spent years pining after me just so she could shake the cobwebs of fantasy from her head and realize we were, in fact, a terrible match.

🙈

“Men bring a dick to the party and think it’s all they need to get you off.”

I mean: I love you for you. I love our conversations and losing myself in the labyrinth of your mind. I love championing your dreams. I love catching your tears and righting your wrongs. I don’t need anything more from you to be utterly fulfilled. But if you let me into this part of your life, you will be opening a door that I’d sooner die than close.”

Pretty much sums it up.

My thoughts tipped like leaves in the wind, disconnected from any tree of rational thought. The space between infinities engulfed each slow, hard thrust, filling me with glitter, with starlight, with spirit and flame and shadow and absolute goddamn magic. This was what it meant to be fucked right.

“Liar. Everyone wants to swap sex stories. Come on, tell me about your best lay. Your craziest night. You have to have some really good tales. Was it with the Prince? Of course, it was. Demons are…well…demons.”

“Public speaking is the number one greatest fear across the globe. Eight billion people can’t be wrong.”

Yes!! This! Anything but this.

I worship your body. I love making you happy. I live to make you come. But I am utterly fulfilled as your friend, or protector, or confidant. Fuck, I’d die happy just for the chance to sit in silence with you, knowing you understand how I feel for you. One day, you’ll want me for more than what I can do in the bedroom.”

gallantry. Every penis-owner at the party had been trying to get laid, hurling sloppy pickup lines at anyone who would listen,

He’d never been inappropriate with me, which I found downright offensive for an imaginary friend.

Made me literally laugh out loud.

Perhaps it said something about my self-esteem that even my delusional coping mechanism allowed little more than the chaste, borderline-familial comfort of a man who respected firm, platonic boundaries.

Ain’t that a bitch.

Then again, hand-holding was a solid first step, but parents held hands with children and drunk girls held hands with strangers as they led one another to the club bathroom, which robbed the gesture of its intimacy.

“If I find in myself desires that nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”

This explains a lot…now how can I fuck off to another world?

“Life’s comfier when you can box people in, isn’t it?”

Absolutely. I am guilty of doing this time and time again…and unfortunately, some people don’t want to stay in the box they’re put in!!

I hadn’t lied. I’d told the truth, and I’d been punished for it. It wasn’t the first time I’d be wounded for honesty, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every new word would result in an explanation, an understanding, a story. Words were keys to endless doors, each door the book to a fantastic escape.

Exactly how I feel about words as well.

Everyone wants Heaven to fall. You have…qualities…that would make you the perfect vessel to expedite the process.” “A winsome personality and huge tits?”

Mortals have learned to think of good and bad in terms of black and white. Perhaps it’s best you consider that for those of us beyond your veil, good and bad are matters of orange and green.”

One of the few times I’m glad for a mortal view of things.

“All’s fair in love and war, right? She may be born for bloodshed, but I know a thing or two about lust, and we both know how much more sway it has over the heart.”

“You know how hard it is to make a whore feel used?

“You didn’t love me,” I said, eyes on the floor. “You loved what I represented.”