I’m quiet; she’s loud. The life of every party and vivacious as hell with witty comebacks and a laugh that would bring any man to his knees. And if it were me down there, I’d wear a collar and crawl if she asked me to.
“I’ll own you, Blake.” He shortens my name, his free hand comes up, and he trails a finger down my neck over my racing pulse, making my body break out in goose bumps. “And I think that’s exactly what you want.”
― The Ritual
― The Ritual
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