Love Travers Quotes

I can’t be with someone and want them to think that I am worth it when I don’t think I am. I need to find me.

I fish because I love to. Because I love the environs where trout are found, which are invariably beautiful, and hate the environs where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly. Because of all the television commercials, cocktail parties, and assorted social posturing I thus escape. Because in a world where most men seem to spend their lives doing what they hate, my fishing is at once an endless source of delight and an act of small rebellion. Because trout do not lie or cheat and cannot be bought or bribed, or impressed by power, but respond only to quietude and humility, and endless patience. Because I suspect that men are going this way for the last time and I for one don't want to waste the trip. Because mercifully there are no telephones on trout waters. Because in the woods I can find solitude without loneliness. ... And finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important, but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant and not nearly so much fun.

Mary Poppins sighed with pleasure, however, when she saw three of herself, each wearing a blue coat with silver buttons and a blue hat to match. She thought it was such a lovely sight that she wished there had been a dozen of her or even thirty. The more Mary Poppins the better.

Well, all right. Something in what you say, I suppose. Consider you treacherous worm and contemptible, spineless cowardly custard, but have booked Spink-Bottle. Stay where you are, then, and I hope you get run over by an omnibus. Love. Travers

The Nice Guy is not a nice guy, he's not kind, respectful or honest. He's a chameleon. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Real love is not the pretty stuff of the jongleurs. It is a feeling inside that you are one with this man, no matter what he is. Were Travers to sell his soul to the Devil, I would still love him and mayhaps I would bargain for a good price myself.

A lawyer caught in the toils of a murder case is like a man newly fallen in love: his involvement is total.

Il parvint à la reconnaitre au milieu du tumulte et, à travers les larmes de sa douleur irrémédiable de mourir sans elle, la regarda une dernière fois, pour toujours et à jamais, avec les yeux les plus lumineux, les plus tristes et les plus reconnaissants qu'elle lui eut vus en un demi-siècle de vie commune, et il réussit à lui dire dans un dernier souffle: << Dieu seul sait combien je t'ai aimée >>

Kill the fucking Nice Guy in you. Seriously, bury all relation you have to that guy. The Nice Guy is not a nice guy, he's not kind, respectful or honest. He's a chameleon. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

If you imagine for one moment that you are going to get out of distributing those prizes, you are very much mistaken. Deeply regret Brinkley Court hundred miles from London, as unable hit you with a brick. Love. Travers.

Puisque tu existes, comme toi seule sais exister, il n'était peut-être pas très nécessaire que ce livre existât. J'ai cru pouvoir en décider autrement, en souvenir de la conclusion que je voulais lui donner avant de te connaître et que ton irruption dans ma vie n'a pas à mes yeux rendue vaine. Cette conclusion ne prend même son vrai sens et toute sa force qu'à travers toi.

You have lots of ass and tons of tits babe. I can’t wait to get you naked so I can see everything you are hiding under those clothes. I’m a big guy, babe. I don’t want a woman who eats a piece of lettuce and gets full. The woman I want laying under me needs to be able to take me and everything I give. A pretty face and a bag of bones for a body do not do it for me. When I saw you clamoring to get off the floor at the store after helping my mom, I knew you were going to be in my bed.

You're the sole focus of my life, Callie. I know you don't want to be. And I—" His voice breaks, and my chest cracks along with it. "If you want me to stop, I will. I'll walk away. I'll help you but I'll never make my presence known. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be there. If you ever want to punch someone, I'll be the fist that does it. I will never fall for anyone else. If you get married, I'll hate him, but I'll still be by your side. I love you." He whispers the last words. "All I want is to love you." He shuts his eyes, like it's too painful to look at me.

No, sir, is right. We are tranquil. And I'll tell you why. There are no aunts here. And in particular we are three thousand miles away from Mrs Dahlia Travers of Brinkley Manor, Market Snodsbury, Worcestershire. Don't get me wrong, Jeeves, I love the old flesh-and-blood. In fact I revere her. Nobody can say she isn't good company. But her moral code is lax. She cannot distinguish between what is according to Hoyle and what is not according to Hoyle. If she wants to do anything, she doesn't ask herself "Would Emily Post approve of this?", she goes ahead and does it, as she did in this matter of the cat. Do you know what is the trouble with aunts as a class?' 'No, sir.' 'They are not gentlemen,' I said gravely.

The U.S. Olympic eight-oared crew was as cool as could be, though. Every afternoon they boarded a boat and made their way out to the New York Athletic Club’s private retreat, Huckleberry Island, a mile off Travers Island, out in the cool waters of Long Island Sound. The island was twelve acres of paradise, and the boys fell in love with it the moment they stepped out of their launch and onto a beach in one of its many small granite coves, wearing the Indian headbands with turkey feathers that club members donned whenever they visited the island. They leapt off stone ledges, plunged into the cool green water of the sound, swam, horsed around, then stretched out on warm flat slabs of granite, toasting themselves brown before plunging back into the water again.

I never pictured proposing to you. Being with you was a secret hope that I never let grow, until last year. I crave you, even when you’re by my side. I miss you, even when you’re sleeping on my chest. Sometimes, I want to wake you up in the night, just so I can see your expression when you look at me. I’ll never stop needing you. I love you, Lane. Will you marry me?” Her hand tightens on mine and she nods. “Words, sweetheart. I need to hear a yes.” I brush my thumb over her cheek. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you.” She chokes the words out and swipes at her eyes. “You’re wonderful, you know that?” “Only to you,” I say, and she laughs. I slide the ring on her finger, and it fits perfectly. “Like you were made to be mine,” I murmur. “I was,” she says simply.

Le Puits mystérieux À travers la forêt de folles arabesques Que le doigt du sommeil trace au mur de mes nuits, Je vis, comme l’on voit les Fortunes des fresques, Un jeune homme penché sur la bouche d’un puits. Il jetait, par grands tas, dans cette gueule noire Perles et diamants, rubis et sequins d’or, Pour faire arriver l’eau jusqu’à sa lèvre, et boire ; Mais le flot flagellé ne montait pas encor. Hélas ! que d’imprudents s’en vont aux puits, sans corde, Sans urne pour puiser le cristal souterrain, Enfouir leur trésor afin que l’eau déborde, Comme fit le corbeau dans le vase d’airain ! Hélas ! et qui n’a pas, épris de quelque femme, Pour faire monter l’eau du divin sentiment, Jeté l’or de son cœur au puits sans fond d’une âme, Sur l’abîme muet penché stupidement !

Je m'appelle Pauline et je vais avoir 30 ans. J’aime écrire pour me libérer de toutes sortes d’émotions, tantôt positives tantôt négatives. Je peux passer des heures à écrire sur un sujet que je tiens énormément comme la rencontre, l’amour ou encore le voyage. Concernant ma vie privée, je suis une personne très épanouie en amour. Et c’est pour cette raison que j’ai créé Le French Kiss avec mon partenaire. C’est à travers cette plateforme que je partage mes astuces pour rencontrer l’âme-soeur. Je tiens à préciser que je ne suis pas “un docteur Love” et encore moins un coach de rencontre. En revanche, j’ai décidé de venir en aide aux célibataires qui cherchent un amoureux(se), car tout le monde mérite de trouver le grand amour.

I feel how much you want me, and I love it.

I love the way you look at me.

I can taste myself on you. I love it.

I pull her in for a kiss, claiming her mouth with the intensity of someone who just did something death-defying and stupid and lived to tell the tale. "Fuck, I love you," I murmur against her mouth. She stills. An ache, but a pleasant one, starts in my chest. This feels right.

Of course. You look hot. They want to know who you are and if you're taken, or if you're here on business." "And am I?" I tease. His face darkens briefly. "You are very much taken. Don't test me, Thompson. I'll drag you into a closet and show you just how taken you are." My pulse jumps at his words. Taken. I love it.

There is no one else for me. I want every piece of you. All the ruthlessness and the ambition. Your sarcasm and your humor. The way you're secretly a good man, even though you pretend otherwise. I will never stop loving you.

She looks sexy and forbidden. I glare at her and she glares back. I love it. You sick bastard.

She's always two steps ahead, this woman. And I fucking love it.

Stupid, Jonah. Why am I baiting her? Because she thinks you're hot. And because you can rile her up. And fuck, I love riling her up.

You take me so well." His voice is rough. "I love the way you feel." "More, Jonah, yes." "You're perfect.

You’re going to have to lighten up a little if this is going to work.” She raised a brow expectantly, like she thought I couldn’t lighten up. “And I don’t mean showering at nine a.m., instead of seven. I mean, I like to eat ice cream on the couch, drink too much wine, and change into my pajamas as soon as I get home. My cleaning style could be best described as laissez-faire. In fact, I have no domestic skills.” “Is that it? You think you’re going to chase me out of this house, don’t you?” I asked quietly. “You think you’ll be so wild that I’ll give up and run back to New York? You’d love that, wouldn’t you?

The meeting got moved up.” Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes a little too bright. “I missed the email,” I ground out. “Luckily, I’m here to tell you what to do.” She winked and my breath caught. “I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do,” I muttered. I really do, though. I fucking love it. “You love it,” she replied with an eye roll. My breath hitched. Did she know? No way. She couldn’t know.

You are insufferable and you make me want to push you into traffic.” “I love it when you talk dirty to me.

I love how you suck me down. I love seeing my cock disappear between those beautiful lips. Yes, sweetheart.

Miles has a huge heart. So instead of hurting someone, he’ll hurt himself. He doesn’t want to be weak, so he’ll never care enough to fall for someone. He’ll never give his heart away, because he doesn’t want to cause anyone pain. And he’s utterly convinced that if he sleeps with me, we’ll fall in love and he’ll hurt me by walking away. Oh, Miles.

I’ll never bring a woman home, because there will never be a woman. I’ve seen what love can do, and I want no part of it.

I forgot you’re not a morning person.” His voice is laughing at me. “Though I should have remembered, since you threatened me enough times in the predawn hours.” “Don’t remind me. I love the morning light, but I hate getting up for photoshoots. And you deserved those threats. You’re annoying as hell before 9 a.m.” “And here I was under the impression that you find me annoying at any hour.” “That too,” I grumble.

Be a fine art photographer. Sell the photos I love to people who also love them.” “So, make even less money than you do now.” I elbow him. “Don’t be a dick.” He raises his brows. “I can drop you on your ass and leave you on this hill.” “To die?” “I’m sure someone would find you.” “Very chivalrous,” I grumble.

I love how you look when you want me.

But I make them look just as good.” I’m deflecting, and she probably knows, but she laughs. “You know you do. I’ve never met someone more aware of his own good looks. You would not believe the questions I’ve fielded about our sex life.” She shakes her head. “Now this, I can get behind. What did you tell them, Lane?” Her cheeks are pink when she responds. “That you love dirty talk and have a huge cock.” I burst out laughing. “Tell me the lie. But did you tell them you also love it? Did you tell them how good it felt when my hand was wrapped around your throat?” Her tongue dips out to lick her bottom lip, and I want to bite it. “No, but it did. I loved it.” “Me too.” Her eyes flicker over me, and the hunger in her gaze makes my breath whoosh out. “Let me show you how much.

I fucked up, Mal.” “What happened?” I lie against the bed and shut my eyes. “I fell in love with Miles Becker.

She’s gasping and laughing, so beautiful I can’t look away. “Those moves?” I wag my eyebrows. “I knew you still had it. That class wasn’t a waste after all.” “Not a waste at all,” I agree. “Especially because I got to do this.” I fit her body against mine, swaying a little, then dip her down until she starts to laugh. When I pull her up again, she’s pink and flustered. “I always loved doing that.” She rolls her eyes. “You just liked feeling me up.

You caught me.” I’m more relieved than I care to admit. “I will always catch you.” The words send a full-body shudder through me. I love that.

Fuck, baby. You’re so hot. I love how you feel around my hand.” “Get inside me, then.” He groans. “You’re trying to shred my control, aren’t you?

I love him. I love him and I need to tell him.

You like my hand around your throat? You like dancing on danger’s edge? You’re a bad girl, Lane. If I’d known you wanted this, I would have snuck into your room and fucked you years ago. Just. Like. This.” It’s true, too. “I love it,” she gasps out. “Because it’s real.

Your head might explode.” He smiles, finally, broad and happy, at the thought of my head exploding. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” “God, yes.” He shuts his eyes, and a low sound comes from his throat. “Mmm. Yeah. Like that.” “Are you fantasizing about my grisly demise?” “Yeah, and it’s really doing it for me. I might actually need to use the private bedroom on here.” He opens his eyes, and they’re lit with fire. “Well, go ahead. See you when you’re done. Say one or two minutes?” I’m blushing, but I will not let him get the last word in. He tips his head back and laughs.

Lane, please. Listen to me. I’m not made for relationships. I don’t want love. And I don’t want to hurt you.” I spread my hands, and her shoulders slump with defeat. “I hate that you get to decide this for me,” she murmurs. “I’m not going to fall in love with you because of the power of your magic dick, Miles. Come on.

George has absolutely no respect for me, and I love it.

I want Lane. More than I did when we were younger, if that’s even possible. It should be me. I should be the one to show her pleasure. I hate that she’s been selling herself short, but some caveman part of me loves that every man before me has disappointed her. Because I can already tell that sex with Lane would be electric.

I’m sick of hearing I’m yours and that you’d do anything for me. That I’m the only woman you’ve ever wanted. But nothing permanent. Nothing real.” My voice is rising, but I don’t care. “I don’t understand why you—” “I’m obsessed with you, okay?” He shouts the words. His eyes are wild. “Against my better judgment. I tried to stop. But it didn’t work.” “What do you mean you tried to stop?” “Do you think I like this? Do you think I enjoy how deep you are under my skin?” He shoves a hand through his hair. “I have been obsessed with you since I was twenty. Twenty. That’s ten years of being distracted every time I saw you on social media. Ten years of waiting for you to notice me. Ten years of hating myself for being a creep when you counted on me to be your family.” “Ten years?” I whisper. He nods shortly. He hates this. His eyes are shadowed, and his face is tense. “Do you want to know why I stopped having sex?” His voice is low and rough. I nod, even though I sense something terrible is about to happen. “Because the first time I slept with my then-girlfriend, I pictured you.” He laughs, a small, unhappy laugh. “It’s fucked-up. But the most fucked-up part? Picturing you made it better.” His voice is rising. “Do you know why my reputation is shit? Why I’m such an asshole? Why I never want to be in love? Because when we had that fight, everything changed for me. When you stopped talking to me, the world went dark. I’ve never felt weaker in my life, and I never want to feel that way again.

All I can think is that as much as I wish I hated Miles Becker, I still love him. I may have always loved him. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop.

And you’ve always wanted love, something stable. Even before Mom and Dad died, you used to make all your dolls get married.” I huff a laugh at how disgusted he sounds. “Yeah, when the Barbie's weren’t throwing Ken to his grisly death from the top of the Barbie Dreamhouse, you mean.

You love her.” He keeps me pinned with that stare while I shake my head. “No. I don’t. I’m obsessed with her. There’s a difference.” He scoffs. “No there isn’t. Besides, I know I’m right.

Lane brought me back to this, and she knew it was critical that I surf again. It was there in her voice and her eyes and her kiss that day. I love her. The truth is a wave that threatens to swallow me whole. Everything in me is rewritten, and yet, it’s all falling into place. I love Lane. I’ve always loved Lane. Those times when I thought she was mine, that was love. All those times I protected her, fought for her, rescued her.

Liam.” He turns, his hair slicked back from his face. “What’s up?” “If I told you I was in love with your sister, what would you do?” Hopefully the answer isn’t punch you in the face. He grins. “Yeah? For real?” I give a short nod. “I’m done running.” “Well then, I’d say welcome to the family.

I’m open to any and all suggestions. But nothing from Jonah because the boombox thing was fucking stupid.” Jonah shrugs. “I’m not a love guru. Leave that to Jason.

I need to tell you something.” He swallows hard. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Longer than I’ve ever admitted out loud.

I love you. Now I can always protect you, even if you don’t love me anymore.” “You fool. How could you ever think I didn’t love you? All those late nights when I confessed to you about my horrible dates? All the times you dragged me out of a funk? Literally dragged me. When you taught me how to drive stick and I nearly crashed your car? When you showed me the pieces of yourself that no one else gets to see?” I brush my lips over his. “Those are my favorite parts. I love you. I’ve loved you for years. And I’ll never stop.” He captures my lips with his and bands an arm around my back. He breaks the kiss to murmur, “I love you, too. I will never stop loving you.

I love going down on this man, especially when he loses control.

I love you. Look at me.” “I love you,” I gasp out. “I’ve loved you forever.” “I’ll love you forever,” he replies.

I don’t need to hear the words to know he’s saying, “I’ll love you forever.” And so he does.

You are a maniac, Markman. Does the suffering of others turn you on?” The taunt slipped out before I could reel myself in. “Absolutely.” He nodded solemnly, green eyes meeting mine and sparking. “And I’ll tell you a secret. It’s the number one reason I torture you so much.” He flicked my nose and I batted his hand away. “Go away, Andrew. You’re the most infuriating man alive.” “You love it.

I was in love with you.” The words ripped from my chest. She whirled, eyes wide. “What did you say?” I cleared my throat. I desperately wanted to look away, hide from this. “All those years ago, I was in love with you. You never realized?” “No. I had no idea. None.

Show me how much you like this. Because I love it. I want to bury myself inside you and thrust until you forget your own name.

I fucking love how wet you are for me,” I couldn’t stop the words I muttered in her hear. “Did you dream about me? Because I dreamed about you.” I pressed against her and hissed out a breath. “I dreamed about doing exactly this. Waking you with light touches, making you come on my tongue.

I fucking love how wet you are for me,” I couldn’t stop the words I muttered in her ear. “Did you dream about me? Because I dreamed about you.” I pressed against her and hissed out a breath. “I dreamed about doing exactly this. Waking you with light touches, making you come on my tongue.

I fucking love feeling how turned on you are.

I’m gone for you, Andrew.” The words spilled out of me, even though they were very likely a bad idea. “And I can’t read you. I have no idea if you feel the same way. You’re so controlled. And believe me, it’s hot has hell but just this one time, I would really love for you to crack.” “You want to see me crack?” He shoved roughly against me and the friction made my stomach flip. “This is me cracking,” he hissed. “It’s been eight long years of wanting you. I’m gone for you too.

Margo. Look at me.” I raised my head to see him concerned, soft, perfect. “I have been in love with you for seven years,” he said with a small smile. “I know I told you I stopped, but it was a lie. Or maybe I didn’t realize it myself until recently. I’ve wanted to make you mine every day for seven years and every day I have failed. But this month I realized that what I felt for you in the past pales in comparison to how I feel for you now. And now, I would do anything to protect you. I’ve loved you every day since I moved into the office with you.” His voice rumbled through me. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life. Not even making partner. I would give it all up if it meant you could pursue your dreams.” “I don’t deserve you.” “Don’t ever say that,” he said fiercely. “I will spend every day proving to you just how much you deserve this.” “I love you too, Andrew.

I’m going to be thinking about you all day. I have so many meetings, Margo. I can’t be hard for all of them.” “I regret to inform you that you share an office with me and you can’t escape,” I teased. “I don’t regret any of the time I’ve spent with you. Not one single moment.” “Even when we were enemies?” I poked him in the leg and he grabbed my hand. “Even then. God, the way you used to bark at me around the office. I was hard all the time.” He let his head fall back against the seat and closed his eyes. “And there’s this one dress you wear to client meetings that drives me absolutely insane.” “The light blue one? I thought you hated that dress. You always looked so angry on the days I wore it.” I remembered his jaw clenching during client meetings. He huffed a laugh, and I admired the sweep of his lashes and his full lips. “Angry is not what I was feeling.” I sat back. “Wow. Wait, what about the leggings?” He opened his eyes, and they were hazy with desire. “I fucking love those,” he murmured. “This is going to be fun.

Her competence was such a turn on. “You’re the absolute devil, you know that? One look and you have me panting after you.” She stripped off her blazer and shook her head, “It’s insane.” “You love it.” “I do.

Margo. Say you’ll never leave me, that you’re mine. Because I’ve never wanted anyone else the way I want you.” “I only want you, Andrew. I’m yours. I love you.

I love the way your hands feel on my skin. Never stop.

Good thing you said you love me, because I’ll never get tired of you. As long as I live. I want this forever,” I vowed. “Me too,” she whispered back, holding me to her. “Me too.

It’s my honor to cherish you, protect you, love you. With you, my joys are doubled and my burdens halved.

It’s a surprise,” she muttered. “But I’m starting to regret this. If I throw up on you, will you love me less?” I chuckled and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Only 1% less. So I would still love you more than you ever imagined.” “Oh good,” she breathed, smiling, even with her eyes squeezed shut.

Oh, I’m ready for my punishment later, definitely,” she breathed. I gripped her hips. “I love you, maniac. Now get your ass up that mountain.

I love watching you come apart like this. I’m so hard for you.

Let’s hope these walls are thick because I’m pretty sure you screamed my name while coming.” She punched me in the arm and laid her head on my shoulder. “You’re still the devil, you know that?” “You love it.” I swore I heard her say “I do,” under her breath and my heart stuttered. This girl was going to kill me.

You’re so wet,” he murmured. “You like this.” His voice was soft, reverent, his eyes questioning. “I love this,” I breathed, and he smiled. It’s you. With anyone else? Maybe not. But having this wild, beautiful man under my control, it was everything.

Keep going,” she breathed. “Keep quiet,” I responded. “I didn’t say you could stop.” I shuddered at her words, going impossibly hard under her. She didn’t seem to notice how much I loved her orders.

Being dominant was still enjoyable. I just didn’t crave it the way I loved to sub.

Get the hell out of there and don’t look back. Look forward.” Andrew had done that. The man had been odious for years, but I could admit that his love for her was the best thing about him.

I would never forgive Jason for giving me a taste of love and then ripping it away.

I guess if you pretended you didn’t do love for long enough, it became a reality.

I get it, Jason. Holy shit.” Her words were everything I needed to hear. I wasn’t too much for her, wasn’t a freak. She loved this.

I love you, I thought. I love you and you have no idea.

I love this townhouse. I guess I’d forgotten what it looked like. It’s very old New York. Dark, elegant. Kinda like you,” she teased. “Elegant, eh? That’s what you see?” “Oh, yeah.” She fanned herself. “I told you, GQ model. It’s the suits. And the cheekbones. You should call Calvin Klein if this whole lawyering thing falls through. I’d pay for photos of you in your underwear.

Having you, and then having you ripped away… This past week has been the worst week of my life. Those weeks in the rental house were probably the best. I’m sorry for that day in the conference room. And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry if you ever thought I didn’t want you or that I wanted you to change. If you let me, I’ll spend every day forcing you to take things for yourself. Making you share your burdens with me. Say you want this.” “Jason,” I whispered. “Every night in that rental house, I though to myself that one day a very lucky girl would get to keep you. I ached to be that girl. If you want me, I’m all in.” “I love you.” He crushed me against his chest. “I love you too,” I murmured the words into his neck. “I love you, Jason Elliot. I want all your fucked-up parts and your cooking skills and the hot stuff you like in bed. Give it all to me.” “Good. It’s yours.

Letting her stay with me had been the smartest decision I’d ever made. She’d hate to hear it described that way, as if I’d given her permission. No, in her mind, she demanded her due and gotten it. Just like she did every day. Damn, I love that woman.

Please, marry me. I need you.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. “I feel whole now that you’re here. I never want to be without you. And I don’t want you to be without me. If you let me, I’ll be the person who stands by you for the rest of your life.” “Yes!” she exclaimed, her hands over her mouth in shock, muffling her words. “You didn’t hear the question yet, love.” I smiled at her, my eyes hot, my heart full. “Well, hurry up, then,” she said. Years tracked down her face and she smiled through them. “Will you be my wife?” “Yes. A thousand times, yes.

C'était peut-être ça, l'éternité : exister à travers les souvenirs de ceux qui nous sont chers.

He’s kissing me like he’d rather kiss me than breathe, and I love it.

I’m at his mercy, and I love it.

So fucking dirty. I love it. My chest heaves, and his eyes devour me.

There’s no pressure. You don’t have to come. In fact, don’t. I love doing this. I could lick you all day. My favorite dessert. Better than chocolate.

You’re so fucking hot like this. Marked with me, I love it.

Theo is rough and wild, and I love it.

She’s chasing her orgasm already, and I love it. I could come like this, from just the friction of her pussy and how slick she is for me.

Told you I was big.” She arches under me. “I love it.

I wink at her, and she laughs again, and fuck if I don’t love being the one to make her.