Filthy Cloaks / H.S.
"Welcome to Hard Liquor. A club mixed with a bit of intellect," Harry whispered on the crook of my neck, fanning the whisk of his warm breath on the most sensitive part of my skin. His sharp smirk gleamed prominently as blood trickled down his cheeks, on the bridge of his nose, and seeped its way into his mouth. I was...