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her Vampyre security blanket.
“Is this a, um…terminal diagnosis?”
LOL
“Not sure I can make it anything under NC-17.”
I promise I don’t walk around thinking that my face launches a thousand erections—”
LMFAO WHAT
I knew. And when I was twelve, I began wedging a chair under the door of my room every night.
Thats so sad
“I really couldn’t care less.”
OUCH
Bob and some other jizzmuffin,
Big Bad Murderous Wolf in Charge of Thousands Cannot Handle Girl Crying.
“I think you owe me an apology.” “For what?” “How spectacular your tits are.”
She can suck shit out of a straw.”
I always suspected there was something wrong about her. She didn’t seem to enjoy what most women do. His dick, he meant.
“Are you her, um, Alpha?” the interviewer asks, taking him in. She smells terrified. And aroused.
The damn fairy is made of enamel and pulp.”
His leadership philosophy seems to be if inconvenient, why not dead?
“Those two are sickeningly in love. Whatever she’s taking, it’s not for the team.” I wince. “Thank you for this highly disturbing mental image of my sister—”
“I’m not— Which lie?” He snorts softly. “You tell that many?”
“Pretty sure being Alpha of this pack gives me a pass to run people through the paper shredder and make dinosaur-shaped nuggies out of what’s left.”
“Low. That’s fine. We’ll find something you can keep down.”
Youre not gonna comment on him knowing you keep puking?
“Not to mention, I snoop around. You’d have to hide all your porn magazines.” “I have Wi-Fi, killer.” “Well, turning on incognito browsing is a pain.”
Next time someone tries to saw you open to study your half-Human gut microbiome, you can shoo them away with a jab at their masturbation habits.”
“Koen, seriously.” We pass a bedroom that smells so ruinously mouthwater...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
and my current condom full of chicken stock level of fitness, but I don’t care.
Your WHAT
“I wouldn’t have wished this on him.” “This?” I choke out. “You.”
“Oh, I know.” Her smile is strained. “Believe me, we all know.”
And Koen is never, ever going to touch you. Not even if you beg him for it on your knees.”
???? If not jealousy why
“Since you appear to need reminding, if some sketchy-looking cumduck pulls up in a white van and asks you to help him rescue his puppy—”
Underneath there is a silver necklace: a moon scratched by four claw marks.
he smells nice. His touch feels nice. Being here is nice. Nice, nice, nice.
Look at her. Just—look at her.
“I can tie you to an anvil and throw you from that cliff, though. And no one will ever know.”
“At least you like mine better than Lowe’s.” “We’re still talking about the landscapes, right?” “Yeah. Sure.”
because I let my wrist drag against the skin at the base of his throat, as if to…as if to rub off on him? More, my instinct screams at me. More. Make him smell like you.
He lingers for a fraction of a second, his nose hovering by my temple, and I hear a deep inhale. A slower exhale.
Remember? How he said that he didn’t care about you? When he called you a spoiled little girl? It was less than twenty-four hours ago. He’s not nice.
every single pair of underwear he selected for me is red.
Because every single thing I glanced at, grazed, examined, eyed, or even considered when we were at the grocery store, every single thing I decided to walk past, every single thing I told myself I didn’t need—every single thing has somehow made it here, inside Koen’s house.
The second just grins, waves at me, and bends over to stretch his hamstrings, giving me a thorough view of his butthole.
I blink, wondering if this is a new symptom of CSD:
“No, really. I’m glad you came over. I’m even getting used to your junk just…dangling there.” Colin cocks his head. “Is it not supposed to?” “Maybe Human genitals are usually retracted?” Pavel suggests.
“Did you cook for my seconds?” Koen sounds less than enthused.
Koen glares at her. “You were unable to physically prevent a hybrid half your size from producing a vat of homemade marinara sauce.”
LOL
“It’s a Human thing,” Colin explains to every newcomer. “They have cloacas.”
LMFAO
Jorma looks at me like the concept of humor slashed his tires and shat in his rose bed,
“Mouthy, isn’t she, Boden?” He sighs. “Never thought I’d be into that, and yet. Bane of my fucking existence.”
“I love watching asses being ridden. It’s my favorite kind of porn.”
“Yes. And we all know that you despise her just as much as everyone else does.”
I will paint this entire territory green before I let anyone in the pack spill a single drop of red. Okay?”
We get a couple of curious looks on our way, but I ignore them, and so does he. It’s not like I’m planning to ravish him in the closet, anyway. I just want to…
“I told you,” he says calmly. All of a sudden, he’s ice cold. “I’m not interested.”
Stop lyyyying
I have a lot of pieces, but I’m not sure how they fit together. Yet.
