A hot bed of coals he was.
A fiery, burning ember of sin. She wanted...no, she pined to let him in. But the voice in her head said no, he wouldn't be strong enough to contain the savage wild child that played just under her surface. A hot bed of coals would only suffice for a night before it simmered into ash. She needed more than that. She needed a firm footing that never buckled, never fucked off and was never insulted by her brazenness. She needed a sustainable ember of sin. One with thick skin that didn't wear lacy panties. A hot bed of coals he was... but he would never survive her fire.
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AuthorMolly Roland is a writer by nature, and she enjoys stepping over the invisible lines society loves to draw. Categories |