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“We’re all fucking crazy, Tillie, but it’s who we stay sane for that matters. You need to for you. Love is just an anchor. It can either be the reason you drown or the reason you float. You can’t ride on that to keep you sane.”
“Give me those eyes again and I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat they’ll pop out of your skull.”
“One night,” I whisper. His tongue traces circles around the nape. “One night,” he answers. “Promise?” I tilt my head, giving him more access. His finger glides over my slit, small circles around my swollen clit. “I promise.”
“You like that, baby?” he asks, his fingers tightening around my chin and yanking my face up to his. “On your knees, bound by your cum-drenched panties, and gazing up at the words that own you, because I do, Tillie. This King fucking owns you.”
“You’re my dirty little bitch, Tillie. Nothing has changed there.”
“Another man putting his hands on you didn’t bother me as much as Daemon gripping
“So wet for me. So wet for the pain, and this is why you will always be mine to gain…”
His fingers flex around my neck and I slowly open my eyes. Shock seizes my bones when I see blood glistening over his lips.
“Kiss me, baby. Kiss away your sins.”
“Do you trust me?” I lick my lips, my eyes closing. “Answer me Tillie, did you, and do you, trust me?” “Yes,” I whisper as he trails the knife down to my inner thigh.
“That sin was brutal. I’m sorry, baby, you know how I get jealous…” He sucks my thighs until my hips meet air, desperate for friction.
“Open.” I do, sucking his salty liquid off the tip of his finger.
The thing about fucking with people is that that person begins to learn the art that you fuck, and they fuck you back harder, with perfect precision and execution.
“We promised…” I whisper. “I’ve promised a lot of fucking things in my lifetime, baby. And none of them involve staying away from you.”
I am completely, utterly, and irrevocably in love with him.
I love her cooking. I don’t know what it is, but when Tillie cooks, it’s like she creates fucking magic.
we are Kings. The mother fucking Elite. The monsters people whisper about in fear because they’re too afraid to say our name out loud.
“There’s nothing to talk about and I’ve come to peace with that.” He squeezes my chin and I flinch, my eyes going to his. “Fuck your peace.”
“Answer me, Tillie, or I will fuck you in the back room and make the pilot circle until we’re done.”
He consumes me more than anything in this world, the feeling is stronger than love. It’s stronger than hate, or pain. He smothers me and owns every single bit of who I am.
He brings out my jealousy and leaves it out raw in the open, like a fatal gaping wound. I hate how much power he has over me, but that’s power he doesn’t need to know he possesses.
“It’s not, though. I fell in love with a man who has no heart for me.”
“Baby, that man has everything for you.”
Why would she want to be held by the same hands that broke her?
Yeah, so I dabbled in pussy before, and between her when she left the first time, but since she came back, I’ve not. Shit. I haven’t fucked anyone since her. What the fuck.
“I promised myself that I’d let you go—until you walked your ass back into a house that I’m in, then I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
“I can’t continue to love someone who isn’t manufactured to love back. I can’t fucking compete with other girls when it comes to your affection, and I can’t fucking handle not having all of you!”
“One, you’ve never competed with any fucking girl. It’s always been you and it makes me fucking testy hearing you say shit like that so I would advise that be the last time those words spill out from those lips, or I’ll feel obliged to shove something else between them.
Two, there is one person on this earth who gets all of me, Tillie. One fucking girl. And it’s not the dispensable hos that have bounced on my dick. It’s the one that fucking stole my heart, and lastly.”
“I must have malfunctioned along the way somewhere, because I...
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“You’re not a woman who can be owned. I knew that a long time ago. You may not belong to me, but you belong with me. And there ain’t shit you can do about it.”
“Surprise.” Nate’s eyes fall to the pregnancy test, and I watch as a swim of emotions pass over his face.
“You make me the fucking happiest man in the world, Tillie.” Then his hand comes down to the front of my belly. “We’re having a baby?” he asks, searching my eyes for validation.
Long white hair. Pale, smooth skin. Dark green doe eyes. A fragile body held together by a yellow sundress hanging delicately from her frame. “Hi,” she announces softly. “I’m Saint.”
