Olive

“Tell me again what you said at the revel,” he says, climbing over me, his body against mine.

“What?” I can barely think.

“That you hate me,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Tell me that you hate me.”

“I hate you,” I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

He kisses me harder.

“I hate you,” I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes I can’t think of anything else.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“Young man, there are two cringe-worthy phrases in one’s life that must be said, no matter what.”

“Which two?”

“‘Thank you’, and 'I’m sorry’.”

“What can anybody do to me if I don’t say them?”

“Someday, you’ll say those words in tears.”
― Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, 魔道祖师 [Mó Dào Zǔ Shī]

“The ache from his cock left an
imprint on my soul.”
― Lillian Lark, Deceived by the Gargoyles

“I have to use your toothbrush?” He looks skeptical and I tilt my head. “You can throat my cock and swallow my cum, but the toothbrush is going too far?”
― Nyla K., Distorted