Follow the River (River of Rain, #1)

by C.E. Ricci

“I’d much rather bite. Lick. Suck and fuck. Leave marks on you that a kiss just doesn’t accomplish.” And then I drop my knees. Bringing down the only barrier of decency he had with me.

“I love the way you fight me, baby. It makes the taste of your cum that much fucking sweeter.”

“And when I fuck you? When I get to sink into that tight ass of yours and fill you with my cum? Goddamn, you’re going to be fucking ruined. You’ll never want anyone else. That is my promise to you.”

“Accept this is who you are, so you can start to enjoy being stranded in a fucking cabin in the woods with me for another four weeks.”

I’m pleased to announce, after decorating the tree and then the hottest sixty-nining session of my life, followed by being bent over and officially learning what the term pillow biter means, I have managed to de-grinchify Rain.

And it felt like…a date, or something. Which begs the question, can you date your fuck buddy?

“I’ve found you and I’m here, and I promise I will always be your safe place for as long as you need one.”

Art, like love, is messy.

Staring up at the night sky, it’s the best way to remember we are so much smaller than we make ourselves out to be.

“You have me. You will always have me. Until every star in the night sky burns out. And maybe even then.”

Being in love is a daily battle, not only fighting for the other person, but for yourself. It’s finding the common ground, the parts of your souls that speak to each other, strengthening them in ways no one else’s ever could. It’s knowing your worth and not only telling the other person you won’t accept anything less than what you deserve, but trusting them to provide that for you. It’s giving the darkest parts of yourself to another human, saying this is who I am in all my fucked up glory, and not asking them to fix you, but to give you what you need to mend yourself.