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I would absolutely, ten thousand percent let Raven Monroe wreck my fucking heart for one taste of her. If she stomped on it with those heeled biker boots she wears? Even better.
“Let him inside of this pretty little cunt, rip you open and then come back to me. I’ll fuck you with my fingers, my cock, my tongue. I’ll fuck every hole you have until you’re a dirty mess. Make you my darling little cumslut.”
I’m a madman. Vile. I yank her back by the hair roughly, her back to my chest, angry at her, at myself, at her fucking virginity. So pure and innocent with those big doe eyes and long sooty lashes, seducing me with nothing. Not even a fucking word or a flirtatious smile. I’m a weak man in her presence and her presence alone. She’s gotten under my skin in a matter of eighty fucking hours. Pathetic.
“Priscilla has the fucking personality of a wet paper towel. She’s pretty. But my girl?” I gasp inaudibly. My girl. “Fuck, natural curves for days, luscious hair, funny, smart, kind, and those eyes? Fuck me, those eyes… I’d do anything for her. I’d even let her peg me, bro. She can have all of me.”
“I love you,” I breathe against her lips, the words hoarse, low, but true. “My soul has seen yours and I know yours has seen mine and there’s no going back for me, baby. We were meant to collide; nobody can tell me otherwise.”
“I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.”
