13 Sep 2020
Rosalie Hale has survived without love for nearly a century. Of course she had her adopted family, but that's not the kind of love she was yearning for. The kind of love you find in a mate. That is until Amber Blacole quite literally crashed into her life. Can this Air Force Survival Expert teach Rosalie that life is more than just mere survival and that love is worth the risk?
“What were you looking for, Muddy?” she questions instead, voice breezy and light—though there’s a certain steel underlying every word, an unspoken warning that tells Hermione she’d do well not to lie here.
Hermione swallows, keeping her gaze fixed steadfastly upon the marble flooring beneath her as she answers, “Painkillers, Mistress.”
Bellatrix frowns at that (though Hermione can’t see it), then draws closer to her pet, bridging the space between them in a matter of moments. “‘Painkillers’?” she repeats in a skeptical tone, placing a single slender finger beneath Hermione’s chin and forcing her gaze upwards to meet her own.
“Y-Yes, Miss,” Hermione stammers, doing her very best not to lose focus as she looks obediently back into darkened eyes (her Mistress’ irises such a deep shade of brown they’re very near black), subversive arousal flaring low in her gut at her current predicament.
Or: Hermione has cramps.
Bookmarked by Am_I_A_Writer
09 Aug 2020