Parties (Girls Weekend, #2)

by C.M. Nascosta

"Bluebell, don’t pretend you don’t love butterin’ this big ol’ biscuit. You think I’d be able to keep your side of the bed warm with a flat ass? This space heater does all the heavy lifting."

"Promises, promises, darlin’."

"Now darlin', you know what a connoisseur I am of the sweetest melons in the patch. You need to tap and squeeze, become intimately familiar with its weight and all of its sensitivities. It takes a certain amount of finesse," his sticky voice clinging to the word, extending it like a hiss, huge hand squeezing the globe of her breast, "and this is the sweetest pair I've ever come across. You can't blame a man for lingering over a meal so fine."

"I’m going to fill this pretty little pussy up, Lurielle, is that what you want?"

"If you squeeze my cock like that every time, Nanaya, we’re both going to need to find work-from-home jobs, because I’ll never be able to stop fucking you."

"After all, everyone knows the only path to body acceptance is to find a dick to ride, right?"

If I break a tusk licking your pussy, honestly there's no better way for it to go."

"Well, you’ve never asked, dove, have you? You can call me whatever you’d like. Or don’t call me anything at all, it’s of no consequence to me. You're the only one with anything to lose here. I told you once before you'll always have a place to come. If that's the place to run away from your family for a few hours, or your husband, or your children, it doesn't make a difference. I'll be there waiting for you. It doesn't matter what you call me, little dove. You have your whole life in your hand, and you're worried if I'm going to call my girlfriend? Do you think a girlfriend is all that you are, Silva?"

"You're my heartbeat, Silva. You're the pulse in my chest and the blood in my veins. You want to rip me open, dove? Take a bite out of my heart? It already belongs to you, so you can do as you wish, and it doesn't matter what you call me. You’re the only reason for breathin', and if you come to your senses and kiss me goodbye in the morning and then put me out of your mind, it won't change a thing. It won't change what you are. You'll always be mine, Silva. That doesn't mean you should want me as yours."

"I’m not being fair to him," she agreed softly. "But he's not very fair to me."

She wanted to know everything; wanted to climb into his skin, wanted to examine and analyze his memories, and nothing less than all of him would do.

It’s always night in her majesty's forest.

Silva stumbled out the door, spilling into the alley in the cool autumn darkness . . . but the alley behind the bar was gone.