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“The only time I ever want to see a grown man on his knees in front of me, Nate, is when his face is between my legs. So no, I don’t want you to beg me.”
“Why would I do that when I don’t like you?” Her words are strong, but her delivery is strained and wispy, giving her away. “You don’t have to like me to scream my name, Anastasia.”
“One day, I’m going to fuck your pretty little mouth, and you’re not going to be able to be such a bossy, impatient little brat.”
“I’m jealous because I want you all to myself, Stassie, and I’m jealous of any guy you freely give your attention to. I’m even jealous of Henry, for fuck’s sake, and I love that kid.”
“I’m going to fuck you like this tight little pussy is mine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?”
thought about calling her dozens of times, but I’m scared I’ll make everything
“You have no idea, do you? The lengths I’d go to if you’d let me. What I’d do to make you happy.”
“Of course I know you really well, Anastasia. You’re my favorite subject.”
Gray, obviously, because Nathan Hawkins is a man who was most definitely written by a woman.
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her flushed cheek. “Even if I had crab hands?” “Even if you had crab hands, Anastasia.”
