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Was the hero of this story really a black mouse with the soul of Napoleon Bonaparte? It was looking more and more like yes, yes he was the fucking hero.
Napoleon scurried down the bed toward my feet. “Mon dieu, I was so excited to see you that I nearly forgot. Daddy of Thunder, please lift me to that vent.” “Daddy. Of. Thunder?” Cam choked out. If I had the strength, I would have been crying tears of laughter.
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because I launched myself at him. I slapped his dick and pulled his boxers back up over it, then shoved a finger in his face. “This is mine. No other female will be seeing it in this lifetime or the next. Understand?” His pupils dilated and glowed orange as we stared at each other. “Did you just slap my dick? That really happened just now?”
