Nyla K

“You look delicious in these, baby. Just like I knew you would.”

My brain urges me to protest. To keep fighting despite how badly my body wants one of those killer orgasms he drags out of me right about now.

“I-I’m not your baby,”

Don’t cuff me. Please. I’ll be good.”

He lets out a ragged breath, blinking slowly. “God… if you want to make me come in my pants, by all means keep saying things like that.”

Kemper huffs a quiet laugh and my eyes bounce up to his face. “What?”

“You look like a kid right now,” he mumbles, those mysterious eyes glinting at me. “Just… blissfully innocent. It’s pretty adorable.”

You wanna get fucked, Dascha?”

A small moan resonates in the back of my throat. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Put some clothes on, baby, before we end up camped out in that bed for even more hours.”

“Oh, you mean I can’t go outside like this?” He smirks, leaning against the wall I’ve had him pressed up on this entire time.

“Not unless you want to see me go on a killing spree,” I growl, and he licks his lip.

Baby baby.” My hands roam up his back.

“I wanna marry you

I don’t know what love feels like.

For the fans.”

But I think I’m managing. Mainly because I met a kid named Kyle who sells me weed.

It’s been this way ever since… since the last time I tried to talk to him about something, and it tore our entire family apart.