[DND] [M] Shot like a loaded gun
#1

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: .

[+000]
ooc here
It was cowardly, she knew, but at least this time she let Grandfather know where she was going. Technically the horse wasn't stolen, she'd return it when she came back but the heavy shroud that hung over Casa was too suffocating, too much of a burden for her to shoulder. So she turned away from it, and fled, like a coward.

Jace would forgive her, she was sure. She did leave a note.

Lithe, lean Salvia could fly like the wind, and fly she did; across the waters of the bay, and into the forests beyond. Following the promise of welcome spoken from a certain kind of preacher so pious. The further away she made it from Casa, the better she began to feel, deep inside where grief couldn't quite express itself properly.

Mistfell was too close and so she passed on through, escorted by those who were friends.

Charmingtown they called it, she learned. Which prompted a laugh from her, and their bar, a huff of amusement. Who did they think they were kidding?

The green-eyed man at the bar needed no introduction, Quinn remembered him and it appeared he recalled her too. Ronnie gave her a drink, "On th' house," because Casa and Del Denere were friendly. In an un-Quinn-like fashion, she retreated to a darker corner, away from the few that chatted and quietly nursed her drink, which went down as smooth as crushed glass.

Sipping from her cup, blue scoped out the other faces, but they were all unfamiliar. Most of them didn't smell of this pack so she assumed they were visitors like herself. Her gaze dropped to the amber liquid and she idly tapped her fingers against the table, ears folding back against her head.

Why had she come here.

She looked up again and paused with the drink part way to her mouth. The melancholy dissipated, ears pulled forwards and she favored Boone with a saucy smile and a wink from across the room. Quinn then tossed back the remaining alcohol in her cup and licked her lips. Too bad he was a married man now, some fun was just what the doctor ordered.

~~~
  Reply
#2
[html]
<div class="ryanPrize">

<div class="space"><!--leave this blank pls--></div>

<div class="lyric">Do not cry out or hit the alarm<br/>You know we're friends 'till we die</div>
<p>The night was late and the children had been tucked away into bed. Surely, by now the bar below was beginning to die down. Normally, Boone himself would have been manning the counter -- but fatherhood often demanded certain responsibilities. Uncle Ron, understanding as he was, picked up the slack and kept the machine running like clockwork while attention rested elsewhere.</P>
<P>However, Uncle Ron could only do so much. The hour of closing was drawing nigh and it was time to relieve him of his duty.</P>
<P>Descending the staircase, Boone called to his uncle. "Uncle Ron!"</P>
<P>The barkeep looked up from the glass he was cleaning. His dishtowel hung limp in his hand. "Mhm?" He hummed, seeking his nephew's gaze.</P>
<P>Rounding the bar, Boone laid an affirming hand on his uncle's shoulder. "You can go on home now, I got it from here." There were a few stragglers left in the bar, but now with his wife and children asleep, Boone could return to his usual duties. "Thank you for -- everything," he muttered under his breath in gratitude.</P>
<P>"S'no problem Boone," he answered, offering the towel to Boone. "Don't worry about it.</p>
<p>Boone took the towel in hand and bit his lip. A twinge of guilt rose in his chest.</P>
<P>"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"<P>
<P>"Okay.""</P>
<P>The swinging doors of the bar creaked with Ronnie's exit.</P>
<P>Boone breathed deep and set to work with cleaning and prepping to close shop. His gaze scanned the few patrons who remained, but he froze when he saw her.</P>
<P>That smile.</P>
<p>Shit.</P>
<div class="ooc">OOC text here!</div>
</div>

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put <b class="npc"></b> if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Coming+Soon" rel="stylesheet">
[/html]
  Reply
#3
[+000]
ooc here
He stared at her, surprise flitting across his sharp face, but didn't look all together displeased to see her there. Of course, she was never not happy to see him.

The forest danced behind her eyes.

Activity drew apart their gazes for an instant, two of the drinkers breaking into rowdy song as they got up and finished the last of their glasses. One of them thanked Boone profusely, whilst his mate was cackling heavily into a paw at some unseen joke they shared.

As they stumbled noisily to the door, Quinn was surveying the last two, who held themselves closer together, whispering back and forth though from the looks exchanged, they wouldn't be staying for much longer either.

Leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs at the knee beneath the table, she made a show of looking him up and down and licking her dark lips, in the dimmed light, the silver stud flashed enticingly.

High was raised her empty cup, and Quinn shook it back and forth encouragingly,

"Hey barkeep, who's a girl gotta fuck to get a refill around here!?"

On the outside, it were nothing more than a provoking jibe for a slow bartender who was still staring at her -- beneath the veil?

Well then...


~~~
  Reply
#4
[html]
<div class="ryanPrize">

<div class="space"><!--leave this blank pls--></div>

<div class="lyric">Do not cry out or hit the alarm<br/>You know we're friends 'till we die</div>
<p>Boone did his best to avoid eye contact for long. Perhaps, if he pretended she didn't exist -- if she wasn't there, he could close the bar without any incident. Yet, he couldn't stop staring. He couldn't help but think of Saga and her young boy. His son. The mistake that never should have been. He thought that avoiding temptation within the borders of DCG would be easy enough. Here, he could be a faithful, loving husband and he could leave the mistakes of the past behind.</P>
<P>It was easy for a while, but temptation always had a way of finding him in the end.</P>
<P>She raised her empty glass, keenly aware that Boone knew of her presence. Her little jib struck him and he bit his lip with some hesitation.</P>
<P>Don't, he told himself. Don't ruin everything over her.</p>
<P>He couldn't turn away now, not when she'd called him to her table. Despite everything, he wanted to talk to her. After all, she'd been the most fun he'd ever had. He took the pitcher of ale and made his approach, all the while, cursing his own weakness. "You're a long way from home Quinn," he said as he fillied her cup. He slid into the seat opposite her and asked, "What brings you out to Charmingtown?"</p>
<div class="ooc">OOC text here!</div>
</div>

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put <b class="npc"></b> if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Coming+Soon" rel="stylesheet">
[/html]
  Reply
#5
[+000]
ooc here
Quinn felt nothing for the wife that she knew must be here somewhere. Whoever she was, clearly she wasn't enough to keep him enthralled from the way he kept staring at her.

If thoughts of Risa fluttered across her mind, then they only added to the tempestuous swell, for Quinn was tied to no one man, or woman, free to pursue at her leisure what she wanted. Tormenting Boone was just another tick in a long line of boxes.

Watching him sweat and try so valiantly not to look at her like a pining teenager was amusing as fuck and she reveled in it. Did his wife tie him up and make him beg forgiveness?

She thought, no.

Score one, as he finally broke, and approached her, taunted by her titillating temptation.

"Only across the bay." She purred, taking hold of the drink he poured for her and raising it to her lips, taking a long sip, "It's not so far..." Wiggling eyebrows, she did so enjoy provoking him.

Quinn blinked, not anticipating an actual interest in the reasons for her being here. She imagined vague, veiled teasing but that was it.

"Ahh.. nothing good... running from problems I don't want to solve." Trying to play it off cool, now it was her turn to bite her lip and look away briefly, Darkness didn't belong here, not wrapped up in her furious desires. She shoved him away ruthlessly.

Ears scored forwards, as the last two patrons graciously removed their damned presence from the bar, with a hooting call to the 'bartender', Quinn's eyebrows raised high,

"So... you guys got anything good in this place? Or just this swill you're expecting me to drink?" Then she was laughing, equilibrium reclaimed.

~~~
  Reply
#6
[html]
<div class="ryanPrize">

<div class="space"><!--leave this blank pls--></div>

<div class="lyric">Do not cry out or hit the alarm<br/>You know we're friends 'till we die</div>
<p>Damn this wolf girl. Damn everything she sought to do. Unconscious, he could not control the devilish grin that spread across his sharp features.</P>
<p>The Avalon -- he remembered it well. The gentle lull of the sea as two bodies writhed beneath the deck like tangled snakes. Those days were over now, Boone had to tell himself. No longer could he indulge in such wild fantasies with youthful abandon. Though, despite this, he still kept the memory and remembered it fondly. Against his best efforts, he could not deny that she was an intrusive thought that he often entertained in the security of his own mind.</p>
<P>For now, he tried to push it away. "Hmmm, that right there's a common thread," he mused, filling his own cup with tepid ale. "Everyone's runnin' from something." Or someone, supposed. Most days, Boone found he was running from himself, and he found the escape at the bottom of a bottle.</P>
<p>Swallowing back gulps of his own drink, Boone wrinkled his brow. He sputtered and scoffed. "Swill?!" he exclaimed. "I'm offended."</P>
<P>With a snort, he rolled his eyes. "I suppose the good shit is in the back," he added. "You smoke?"</p>
<div class="ooc">OOC text here!</div>
</div>

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put <b class="npc"></b> if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Coming+Soon" rel="stylesheet">
[/html]
  Reply
#7
[+000]
ooc here
He mirrored her smile, though followed it up with philosophical waffle, and she resisted the urge to snort and call him a sodden old fool. She did roll her eyes though.

It was not hard to imagine where such tenacious teasing was taking him. A dizzied, dark-winged moth, she fluttered towards the light that would singe and burn her. Blessed with fortune thus far, she had not yet set ablaze and this gave her the false confidence to assume it would always be so.

Quinn cackled as offense slipped onto his face and he proclaimed his outrage,

"Good." She let her teeth snap shut around the word, let him be offended, it looked good on his stupid face.

Finishing her drink, and standing upright, she loomed over him, a couple of good inches taller. Hands flat against the table, Quinn leaned forwards,

"Of course." She said with the undertone of 'duh, are ya stupid?'

Boone led her into the back, and curiously, she peered around at the stacked boxes and piles of stuff, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell.

"Homey..." She commented without much passion, a dull observation. There was no turning back on this now, whatever happened happened, and though on one level Quinn didn't care at all, the little voice that sounded suspiciously like her sister was squawking indignantly.

Without an invitation Quinn plopped herself down on the ratty, crappy looking couch that had obviously seen better days. A cloud of dust billowed up and out, and she stared at him with insolent smile well in place, motes of dust collecting in her hair and on her shoulders as it began to settle back down, awaiting the promised smoke and 'good stuff'.

Whatever that might be.

~~~
  Reply
#8
[html]
<div class="ryanPrize">

<div class="space"><!--leave this blank pls--></div>

<div class="lyric">Do not cry out or hit the alarm<br/>You know we're friends 'till we die</div>
<p>Playing with fire was a dangerous game, thrilling as it was. Boone knew that every moment he spent in Quinn's presence would only lead him further down a road of regret. But, there was a weakness in Boone. A weakness he couldn't deny. He was not proud of this.</p>
<P>When she gave her answer, the die was cast. Boone took her hand and said, "Well then, come on," as he pulled her from her seat. With his free hand, he grabbed a candle from the table and led her through the empty bar toward the storage room in the back.</p>
<P>He bid her to take a seat on the musty old couch with an offhand gesture before setting the candle aside for later. All the while, he began to rifle through boxes of tradable goods that he so often moved through the bar.</P>
<P>"It's a storage room," he said, coughing dryly as dust rose through the air. "it ain't supposed to be pretty." He moved from box to box, looking for the particular product he had in mind. He was only satisfied when he produced a small jar of dried cannabis. The Del Mar's finest.</p>
<P>"You know, we normally trade this stuff," Boone mused idly as he laid out a dried tobacco leaf as rolling paper. He was experienced, and rolled a blunt with deft fingers. "Don't go tellin' your friends you're getting this shit for free." He raised the blunt to his mouth and licked the seam shut.</P>
<p>Wedging it between his teeth, he raised the candle to the blunt and inhaled. Smoke filled his lungs and a comfortable haze settled over him nearly immediately as he exhaled.</p>
<p>As he took the seat beside her, he spoke. "Take it," he said hoarsely, extending his offering between outstretched fingers. "Hits smooth."</p>
<div class="ooc">OOC text here!</div>
</div>

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put <b class="npc"></b> if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Coming+Soon" rel="stylesheet">
[/html]
  Reply
#9
[+000]
ooc here
Patience was not one of her virtues, and already she itched to stand, to move, and prowl about the room like a caged animal. To hunt him down. Stillness didn't agree with her, not unless she'd built up enough of a reserve of adrenaline to survive off of. Her fingers tapped endlessly against her thighs as she watched him rifle through the assorted boxes.

Leaning forwards to rest her elbows upon her knees, she let her hands dangle, where they swiftly intertwined together and then continued to tap away, ears twitching, she huffed at his snarky response, and hummed as he mused, not entirely interested in their storage situations.

Quinn remembered, being a stark, dark raven amongst pale, boring doves. Their ashes and dust no match for slate and shining ocean blue. She recalled spinning in a circle, falling through the grasp of the world and coming out the other side, with bells and bows in her hair; 'Neath an unending black sky, dotted with stars that shined like diamonds.

He had been there too. The only other splash of color mixed into the hazy grey swarm.

"I wouldn't dream of it." The fey woman muttered with a smirk, not about to share this with anyone at all. Not her sister, nor Risa, nor another soul she could think of. Lips sealed and all that.

Boone provided his own accompanying cloud of dust, as he took his seat besides her, Quinn laughed into her hand and plucked the burning brand for him when it was held out to her.

She sucked it back, filling up her chest with smokey flames and breathed out dragonfire.

"Oh godd... that's good." Groaning appreciatively, Quinn let her head fall back, and stared at the spider-infested ceiling. Mellow yellow, that was the words that came to her, through the wishy-washy cloud.

Out of the corner of her eye, she made out him reaching for the joint to take it back, and held it out of his reach selfishly,

"Nuhh, mine." She hissed, leaning away from him, she managed another toke; lips curling playfully, eyes sparking brightly within their pale confines. He wanted it, he was going to have to fight for it. Survival of the fittest.

~~~
  Reply
#10
[html]
<div class="ryanPrize">

<div class="space"><!--leave this blank pls--></div>

<div class="lyric">Do not cry out or hit the alarm<br/>You know we're friends 'till we die</div>
<p>In Boone's subconscious mind, he half expected her to try something. Quinn was a player of games, and her whims were wild, this was something Boone well understood. It was because of this that Boone knew he had made a mistake in bringing her back here into the storeroom. It was as if he were willfully seeking to make yet another unspeakable mistake. Even at home, he was never quite free of his own self-sabotage.</P>
<p>He knew he was weak. He knew the man he was, and he hated himself for it.</p>
<P>Yet in the fog of smoke, he silenced this little voice of reason. There was only here and now, and the nervous, expectant thrumming of his heart in his chest.</p>
<P>From the corner of a glazed eye, he could see smoke pour from the corners of her mouth. She held the blunt out, but when Boone reached for it, she wrenched it away from his tentative grasp. Here it was. The invitation. "You ass," he muttered, wheezing.<p>
<p>Already, he was climbing across the couch and over her body in pursuit of the joint wedged between her fingers. He reached for her wrist and pinned it back so that he may pluck his bounty away when he so chose to seize the opportunity. Yet, when his eyes met her's as he lingered over her lounging form, he could not deny the challenge within their deep blue depths. He froze, lingering as his grip around her wrist tightened.</p>
<P>And when he kissed her, he did not think. He felt as if he were a puzzle piece sliding into place.</P>
<div class="ooc">OOC text here!</div>
</div>

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put <b class="npc"></b> if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Coming+Soon" rel="stylesheet">
[/html]
  Reply
#11
[+000]
ooc here
There was too much to name, and nor did she wished to label all of the things she felt. That would only complicate the complicated further. She did, however, bare her teeth and grin at him. Egging him on, just like she'd done to get him to leap from the cliff, to chase her through the forest, and now, to destroy any sanctity in his marriage.

She was there, bidding him to the dark side, taking the wild strides.

Daring. Siren's song.

Away, and tauntingly laughing, she held the desired vice and left the promise of one closer entirely up to him. Indecision warred, not from herself, who remained set so solidly on her destructive path. Against weathered, shifting stone did the waters of her maelstrom batter.

Weary and burdened, what must the rigors of leadership and parenthood be like? She would never know, and little much did she care for those drains of sanity and time.

There was no serenity to find here, not like back home within the bonds of those that loved her, cared for her. No, this was a rising of calamity, a catastrophe in motion. She had not come here for peace, only a worsening of her own hurricane.

"Ass, yourself.." She snapped mischievously, her jaws slamming shut about the words

Any time at all, some other could discover them, rip wide open the illicitness and it was this that fueled her. This danger that hammered behind her breast, throbbing away in those broken, busted pieces of her brain that in others demanded an exercised caution.

He could tell himself whatever lies helped him sleep at night. Quinn grunted as his weight fell across her, and Boone made a ephemeral, half-hearted attempt at reclaiming his joint. Its illusion shattered between them, falling in jagged pieces. Quinn snarled, low in her throat, and writhed wildly as he wrestled with her, entirely willing to bite him for possession of the joint and then froze as he did.

For a long moment the only movements and sound were her pinned, still straining arm and the heavy breaths pouring from her open mouth in her short-lived fight.

Fleeting, the stillness was but a transient, banished smoke screen unveiling the reality of incivility.

They were only just animals, after all.

She kissed him back just as fervently, all coy pretense forgotten in its wake. There was pain, burning in her fingertips as she crushed the joint's end between them and flicked it away. They wouldn't be needing anymore of that particular vice. Her free hand whipped forwards and buried itself briefly in the ash-grey of his hair, clenching about the bristling waves.

With all the free weight upon it she would not be reclaiming her trapped wrist without permission. This didn't stop her from wrenching on it and flexing her fingers aggressively.

Upwards, her body burgeoned without thought, or real consideration. Bending towards Boone like a reed in the wind; reduced to base desire and all that came with it.

Searching onward, her hand found soft canvas that ripped with little resistance between her claws. Splitting the pale material as far as she could reach, Quinn was rewarded with flesh and fur, enough to grab hold of and pull.

To breathe though, this was something she sorely needed to do. She wrenched her face away, sucking in harsh, hot gulps of air against the side of his neck before abandoning her desire to breathe in favor of biting at the juncture of shoulder and throat.

Wordlessly demanding more of him.

~~~
  Reply


Forum Jump: