sweetbee



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    “I like it when you say please,” she tells you, breathlessly, once you’ve relinquished her mouth only to taste her jaw, her neck, the notch between her collarbones, so you say it again, the word layered over her skin with your lips and your tongue. You say it again and again and you don’t feel weak, you only feel strong, so strong you could lift a mountain with your bare hands or catch a dragon right out of the sky.

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    20 Aug 2017