“You’re torturing me,” he groaned into the pillow. I smiled and pushed my tongue inside him again. And again and again and again. I just fucking loved feeling him squirm, all desperate and ready to do anything for a hard fuck.”
―
Cara Dee,
Remade
“Why, Bo Beckett,” he murmured, “it almost sounds like you’re catching feelings for me. Actual, actual feelings.” Punk-ass. “Or the flu,” I said. “Could be the flu too.”
―
Cara Dee,
Remade