Can I kiss you?_ And she would let him, lightly on her lips, a moment of brief anticipation. __our kisses are like sugar woman._ He would tell her affectionately. __o sweet._ He would close in on her and then ask softly, __lease spend the night with me.
Oh, but my netherling side did, and she casts my human armor aside.She guides my hands, knots my fingers through his hair, teases his tongue with hers. She won__ let me pull away, because she wants to be there again. In Wonderland, where his tobacco-flavored kisses always take us . . .Because the things I loathe are the things she adores: His snark, his infuriating condescension. His menacing mastery of half-truths and riddles. The way he shoves me into the face of danger, forces me to look beyond my fears and reach for my full potential.Most of all, because he encourages me to believe in the madness ...in her . . . the darker side of myself: the queen who was born to reign over the Red kingdom and to give Wonderland a legacy of dreams and imagination.His gloved palms seek the bend of my waist, the bow of my hips. He moves me on top of him, so close there__ not enough space for a blade of grass between us. His kisses grow insistent, desperate. His flavor winds through me, fruit and smoke and earth, and other things born of shadows and storms . . . things I can__ put a name to.
Ensnared
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Oh, but my netherling side did, and she casts my human armor aside.She guides my hands, knots my fingers through his hair, teases his tongue with hers. She won__ let me pull away, because she wants to be there again. In Wonderland, where his tobacco-flavored kisses always take us . . .Because the things I loathe are the things she adores: His snark, his infuriating condescension. His menacing mastery of half-truths and riddles. The way he shoves me into the face of danger, forces me to look beyond my fears and reach for my full potential.Most of all, because he encourages me to believe in the madness ...in her . . . the darker side of myself: the queen who was born to reign over the Red kingdom and to give Wonderland a legacy of dreams and imagination.His gloved palms seek the bend of my waist, the bow of my hips. He moves me on top of him, so close there__ not enough space for a blade of grass between us. His kisses grow insistent, desperate. His flavor winds through me, fruit and smoke and earth, and other things born of shadows and storms . . . things I can__ put a name to.
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