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“Because our furniture is too expensive to be scratched to hell, and your cunt needs a little love. It helps with your internal balance.”
One of his shoulders lifts half-heartedly. “The only attention I ever wanted, I’m getting right now.”
“You could say I’m direct,” he finally says. “I like to say what I want, how I want it, and how they’re going to give it to me.”
“I’ve had a thing for you since freshman year when I overheard you and your sister talking about who you’d fuck-marry-kill when it came to the cast of The Breakfast Club.”
A smirk breaks across his face, and I know I’m a goner before he even says the words. “I dare you to let me show you how obsessed I was with you ten years ago.”
That even after all these years, I haven’t found anyone who makes me smile or laugh or feel at home the way you did?”
“I want to know you’re sure because this has been brewing for a very long time, and I intend to take everything you’re willing to give me. And I expect you to take everything I give.”
“You’re doing so good, Mia. Can I tell you something before I have you come all over my hand?” She attempts to speak, but after the word comes out indecipherable, she nods. A smile stretches across my lips. “This belongs to me, tonight.”
“Oh my god.” This makes me chuckle. “I don’t think he was underneath the table just now.”
“Every second my hands aren’t on you, every minute my mouth has to wait to taste you, it’s torture, Mia.”
“How about this,” he starts, gripping either string of my robe and slowly pulling them apart. “You ask me all questions you like while I fuck you with my tongue.”
“My secret—my truth, Mia—is that you belong to me. Always have. Always will.”
