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He’s cute. The kind of cute you play with just to see their fluff stick up.
“I’m gonna go ahead and suggest you wear the crown with your top hat.” “And why’s that?” I ask, reaching for my pack of smokes. “Because you’re looking like a fucking King.”
Bishop: You think she knows? Me: Don’t know yet.
“You think you’re up for it?” I watch as something passes over his eyes. I expected him to be confused because that was my intention, but instead I got intrigue? Fear? No. What I got was undiluted mischief. “I know I am.”
You can suck my dick and mean jack shit to me. I can not want you but still enjoy seeing my cock choke you to the brink of death.
“Watch your bed tonight, Lil,” he whispers into the shell of my ear as his fingers set off aftershocks down my spine when he glides them over the nape of my neck. “It’s what you wanted, right? To remind me that you could have me whenever you want?” I swallow past the buildup of arousal that’s rising in my throat. “Maybe.” I brush my lips over his. “Or maybe it was to remind myself that I could.”
Flashing a red flag in front of a bull sounds like fun, especially if I have every intention of riding it.
Gone is the playful Eli I’m used to, and standing there in front of me is someone who looks starved. Hungry for a lifetime and only now allowed to feast.
“The broody hard-to-get thing you have going on isn’t working, just FYI, so when you’re ready to swallow your pride, I can lube your throat with my cum so it goes down easier.”
“If you think I’m lost, you should see the state of the one who let me go.”
