The Beekeeper

by S.M. Shade

Getting railed on a freshly filled grave in the dead of night is just a bonus.

Inspiration or obsession? Is there even a difference? If there is, I can’t measure the distance between them.

“I want to kiss you until neither of us can breathe.” He leans in, sliding the tip of his nose along my jaw. “I want to peel off your clothes, taste your skin, explore every trace of you with my tongue. It’s all I can think about. I want to hear you moan for me and see your face when I make you come.” He leans to warm my ear with his heated words. “What I want is to throw you in my bed and fuck you and fuck you and fuck you.”

“Oh darling, I’m going to make you come until you forget your name and can’t stop screaming mine.”

You don’t just shine, Calliope, you blind me with it.”