“Please don’t go.” His arms crush me against his chest. “I’ve grown roots, and I can’t move. Don’t want to be here alone.” “Huckslee, come on.” Yet I’m still moving on top of him, my own dick straining against my sweats. “The forest has claimed me, my love. Let me be a tree. Or a weed.” My love. Fucking hell. “How about a sunflower.” I bite along his neck as his nails graze my back. “Like that Posty song you love.”
