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To all the “broken” little dolls who still like to be Manhandled, used, played with, Degraded and praised – Who wouldn’t mind breaking just a little more… But only for the right ones.
“I’m going to fucking maim whoever did this to you, baby.”
Pro Familia, Sanguinem For family, we bleed.
“She’s not fat or ugly, you idiot. She’s healthy and proportional. And fuck it. She could gain fifty pounds and she’d still be hotter, smarter, and funnier than the bitches you pull.” Jonas bites back. “She’s definitely way cooler than your bride to be.”
There was something in Raven Monroe that screamed at my soul and no matter how much I wanted it to stop, my soul wanted all the depraved things she had to offer.
I am a man with sick, twisted, borderline sadistic tendencies, and all I want – need - is for her to stop torturing me. To put an end to this… itch. This ache. This annoying pain in my side that feels as though I’ve broken a rib. All I need is one touch. One kiss. One lick. One taste. Just. One. Fuck. And that’s it. One of each so I can put her back in her little perfect box and give her back to her golden boy.
She is the embodiment of crisp cool nights, warmth of roaring bonfires, pink super moons, the silence of absent cicadas and critters, of death in its most beautiful and natural form. She is the promise of new beginnings and transitions that come with time and rage. Furious like a fire devouring a house until only its charred skeleton remains standing.
I push play on an audible, listening to a dark romance book, (a guilty pleasure of mine)
“I want to thank you for being such a great professor and thoroughly teaching your student how to… swallow.”
No matter how much my mother wanted me to be a princess, I wanted to be able to slay dragons. Where other women wanted prince charming, I wanted the misunderstood villain.
Turns out in order to slay the dragons, I had to become the villain all while portraying to be the damsel in distress.
