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The sound of grown men begging for mercy always brings a smile to my face.
I do so love it when they scream. It’s the terror in their eyes that really feeds me—knowing that these men who have done horrible things finally know a smidge of what their victims have felt.
I’d loved once, but then she turned out to be off her rocker more than I am, so I skedaddled right on out of that relationship. I haven’t been in a serious one since, but I’ve remained what you might call a romantic at … well, I don’t have a heart so I’m not sure where exactly. But it’s there. Somewhere.
men are like plants, if you don’t water them, they’ll die, and I don’t have a green thumb.
“A divine angel like her is a blessing to the eyes and you are nothing but lowly trash unworthy of looking upon her,”
Pulling my trusty notebook and pen out of my pocket I lick my finger and flip it open to a new page. Quickly scribbling, Breed Celine, under a new list titled Goals in my long life with Celine.
“Lockwood. Zavier Lockwood. L-O-C-K-W-O-O-D. Why aren’t you writing this down? It’s going to be your last name one day, too.” His grin is downright wicked.
Zavier’s Date Ideas for Whooing His Mate: Bowling - Asher’s bitch ass ruined this one Karaoke - Show off my golden pipes Navy Pier, Ferris Wheel - Basic and done before Skip everything and go straight to fucking her senseless - My favorite
Did I sneak into her apartment to get a pep talk from my hype kitty? Absolutely. Midnight is my best friend. I just can’t let Tom find out or his feelings will be hurt.
I love that sound. A man who whimpers and moans for his woman is such a turn on.
Celine. My mate. This can’t be the end. She doesn’t know how big of a dick I have yet. I’m going to die and she doesn’t even know. This is the worst.
“No, I just … I know you’re about to ruin me.”
