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You know I could crush you. I know you won't. Why, because I need to protect you? No, She poked him in the breastplate. Because you gave me a pillow.

Larissa Ione

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Larissa Ione
Age: 42
Born: 1982
Born: August 12
Author
Writer
Oregon
United States
Sydney Croft
Breastplate
Poked
Pillow
Crush
Gave
Protect
Need
Needs

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Wraith held up his hands. Chill, Gramps. I don't want to sit on your knee or anything.
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She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on his mouth. Name. He wanted her name. She had to think about it for a second before she remembered. Great. She must have hit her head. Which, duh, explained the headache.
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Because make no mistake, Serena. I do bite. ~Wraith
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You can't truly hate someone you've loved. You can only hurt.
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He wouldn’t take anything from her ever again. But from this point on, he’d give her whatever she wanted. Which was easy, because what she wanted right now was an orgasm.
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Either one of you kill him, or I will.” Shade, Wraith and Kynan raised their hands to volunteer. How special. Brotherly love ran like syrup in the room.
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Harvester’s heart soared. Reaver had offered to castrate an archangel for her. How sweet was that?
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leave it to him to get messed up with deaths little girl
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For the next eight and a half months, you're going to be mine. Every. Night.
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Oompa-Loompa Land?” He shook his head. “No way. Orange people give me the creeps. I don’t even like fake tans. I’d never be their king.
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He leaped to his feet, grabbed her, and spun her to face him. No more bullshit, Sin. Feel what you've done. He took her hand and pressed it to her chest, where her heart was pounding painfully fast. So was his. Let yourself feel something for someone else. ~Con
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Reseph tried to convince one of my vamps to slip an aphrodisiac into my drink. Ares is quite fond of the orc-weed, Vulgrim called out from the kitchen, and yeah, there was a set of chains in the dungeon with his name on them. Limos scowled. What did your demon say? Nothing, Ares muttered.
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Still amazes me that people spend more time researching a new vehicle than they do the religion they entrust their souls to.
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Easy there, Smurfette.
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Lore? Tell me what Sin said about you being tortured wasn't true,' He didn't look at her as he moved toward the bathroom. 'It wasn't true.' 'You're lying.' 'You told me to.
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When you can't be sure of anything else in this crapped- on world, you have to be sure of yourself.
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I’m not going to pass out-” He cut her off with a kiss. “If you did, I’d catch you.” Gods, he’d laugh at either of his brothers if they said that to their mates, the pussywhipped idiots.
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The pretty nurse had just injected her with something that totally rocked, and if she wanted to think about boinking a bronzed, tattooed, impossibly handsome doctor who was so far out of her league she need a telescope to see him, then screw it. Screw him. Over and over.
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What are you talking about, Sin? You don't want anyone to own you... Or your heart?' She laughed bitterly, and entered the Harrowgate. 'I don't have a heart for anyone to take.
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His voice was low and rough … “What about you? Do you like bad boys?” “There’s definitely appeal,” she breathed. “Good,” He bent and clipped her earlobe with his teeth … “Because they don’t come badder than me.
Larissa Ione