“What do you want, princess?” I lean in and drop a kiss on his lips, every word of my answer a brush of skin that paints my desire on the canvas of his mouth. “I want you to fuck me like you know I won’t break. I want it hard and rough and perfect. I want to be sore when I wake up in the morning, and then I want you to spread my legs and fuck me again. I want your teeth in my skin and your hands in my hair. I want us—our desires, our moods, our needs—to be the only thing determining how we do this. Not my past. Not your fears about hurting me or your thoughts about what I deserve. Because what
...more
