Diannacordero

“one hand, he holds both of mine over my head. He looks into my eyes. His are screaming: what? He thumbs my slick folds, parting them, then plunges in—hard! So very hard. “I—” he thrusts— “am no one—” he thrusts— “that you know. I never will be. I will hurt you—” he thrusts— “for my pleasure—” he thrusts— “I will make you pay—” thrust— “Every day you fuck me, I will make you pay.” He thrusts brutally hard, so hard the carpet burns my ass. So hard I can feel him buried deeper than anyone before. I moan. “Your call, Angel. Your choice.”
― Ella James, Beast, Part One

“A home is not a place. It’s not a country or a town or a building or possession. Home is with the other half of your soul, the person who shares in your grief and helps you carry the burden of loss. Home is with the person who throughout it all never gives up on you and brings you eternal happiness.”
― Tillie Cole, Sweet Home