It is torture, lying there beside you every night… not touching you. Every feckin’ night I ache to feel you wrapped in my arms. I want to press my lips against yours, to pull the clothes from your body and take ya on a spiteful ride.” I lifted my head and cradled hers in my hands, then growled my words a hair’s breadth from her lips. “I want to fill you up to the point that you feel like I do.
-Sibylla Matilde
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