❝Fucking hell, Angel. Please, continue riding me like this. It feels so good. Please❞ he moans to me, letting his mouth open wide to show his own pleasure. I won't stop. I lean over his body and let my palm press onto his mouth, letting my four fingers grab one side of his face as my thumb grabs the other. I can never get tired of him talking no matter the occasion, but right now, this will go exactly as I want. "I don't remember giving you permission to talk, or touch my breasts." He exhales his pleasure as he pulls his hands beside his head submissively. His lips move, and his voice begins to rumble against my hand. I pull it away for a moment. "P-please. I love them." he moans. I raise an eyebrow, slowing down the movement of my hips to torture him. "What do you love?" I ask him, teasing the words out of him. It's no secret, but I'd rather him broadcast it on his shirt than only tell me once. I keep myself steady, not wanting to reach another orgasm myself. "Your breasts." he admits. "You love...?" I ask. "You." He moans, telling me what I want to hear. → Having to deal with the trauma of losing a parent, the Inferno goes about life taking what he pleases and not caring for the feelings of others. When secrets are revealed, so is his true self. His persona is at stake when he indulges in a forbidden romance with someone he's known to be family all of his life. The inferno. Lucifer on Earth. #1 Manxwoman #2 Forbiddenromance #2 Blackwoman #2 Slowbuild

"I hate you." "Are you sure? I don't think I got a fair chance." "I am." "Are you very sure?" "Has anyone ever told you that you're full of yourself?" "No." "Well, they should." ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ Her definition of perfect was quiet and dull. He was anything but. Theo Parker was full of life; smiles always lighting his face and a camera on him, ready to snap a photo at any given moment along with almost living at the basketball court. Smiling at anyone who looked his way. She wanted to hate him, but she couldn't find it in her to do so. He defined perfection as impossible. Until he met her. He was aware of the glares and harsh words she sent his way, but under what seemed like not so subtle hatred she was smart and caring. Camilla Moretti didn't need anyone's approval or cared about their opinions. She didn't need anyone, and he admired that. Sometimes staying is easier than leaving; but maybe leaving would've been more simple. ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ I just wish someone would stay