My Queen: I’m going dancing tonight.
My brows furrowed at the message, my fingers tightening around my phone as I read it again. I wasn’t sure how to respond.
What should you say to a woman whose p***y you’d been buried in every night for the past two weeks?
It had become a fine balance—trying to find a space between what I wanted us to be and what Kathleen wanted us to be. If it were up to me, I’d be around her 24/7, and not just for the s*x. I wanted to spend my nights wrapped around her, feeling her warmth against me, pulling her close and holding her until the sun came up. But I had to play it cool.
I had to pretend.
Pretend I wasn’t itching to stay in her bed. Pretend I didn’t crave her touch even when she wasn’t near. Pretend I didn’t want more than just stolen nights and secret
