“Get on those knees then, beastie.” Fuck. My heart damn near breaks through my ribs. I hold the counter for support, my thigh screaming, but I don’t care. Not one bit. This injury won’t ruin tonight. I’ll tear it back open before I give this up. She grabs my whiskey and tilts her head back, letting the liquid sit in her mouth. When her fingers run through my hair, my breath catches. But when she yanks my head back and spits that whiskey into my mouth— Holy. Fucking. Shit. The burn of the whiskey hits, but it’s nothing compared to her. “Kiss. Me. Please,” I beg.
