He always cared for her. He always loved her. He’s madly in love with her. She’s his Love, actually. She’s his Casablanca. She’s the one he’d stop the bus for, the one he’d run through traffic for, the one he’d drive like a crazy man to the airport for and run through the terminal to stop the plane.…
Catalog
Lauren Blakely
He drove his tongue inside her, setting off another shattering moan that was music to his ears. She was quite an instrument to play, so finely tuned, and if he touched her right, she made the most glorious sounds — raw, intense, absolutely delicious noises of pleasure as he plundered her with his…
But you don’t get the girl until you’ve gotten the girl. And even then you have to put in the effort every single day to keep her. You don’t win before you’ve won. You keep playing, and fighting for love every day.
Love isn’t a quilt. Love isn’t patient, love isn’t kind. Love is a game, a chase, a thrill. Love is wild and war-like, and every man and woman must fight for themselves.
Love isn’t a quilt. Love isn’t patient, love isn’t kind. Love is a game, a chase, a thrill. Love is wild and war-like, and every man and woman must fight for themselves.
His hands cup my face as if he’s claiming me, saying you’re mine with his lips and his hands and the way he draws me in close, his thumb tracing a line along my jaw. It’s such a small gesture, but such a poetically possessive one and I arch my back, inviting more.
I don’t even know if I have bones in my body anymore. I don’t know how I’m standing. I could melt under the sweet heat of his lips that are now tracing a line down my chest to the very top of my breasts, as he tugs gently at my shirt, giving himself room to leave one more brush of his lips, before…
If I were a rock star, I’d have Taylor Swifted him and written one of those anthemic I don’t love you anymore songs.
My first love. He was my first favorite mistake.