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

“Don’t let your evil stepbrother stand in the way of your happiness, Av.”
Another laugh trickles. “You think wearing an eagle costume at football games is happiness??”

This is just for the fans… the people who have paid money for me do it. And surprisingly, that notion seems to turn me on even more.

“He doesn’t want to kiss me, he wants to kill me,” I grunt, brushing strands of hair away from my face.
“Okay, well, the line between those two desires is pretty freaking thin, loverboy.”

“This is just for the fans… right?” His eyes come back to mine, and I nod.
“For the fans.”