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Rhys’
Rhys'
Rhys’
Rhys’
Rhys’
Rhys’
Rhys’
Rhys’
Rhys’
Rhys’;
“Chariot folks are driven as hell, natural born leaders, determined to succeed and look good doing it. They hate being broke and they hate feeling busted. Most of all they want. Chariot people are made up of desires, and they've got the power of will to bring those desires into fruition.”
Rhys’
Rhys’
Rhys’
“Well, he is a narcissist.” “He’s a Leo.” “That’s what I said,” Moira replied, deadpan,
Rhys’
Rhys’
The air swirled around them kind as summer when Rhys pressed his mouth to her throat. With every roll of her hips the shadows receded further into their corners, and as her thighs trembled, no curios rattled, no portraits wept. The house was blissfully silent save for her breathless giggles and Rhys’ encouraging murmurs.