Good girl. ( murmuring against her lips, pleased by her ready compliance. he's used to fighting for obedience, finding pleasure in the challenge, but there's something to this quiet ease, too.
as her fingers roam his back through the faded flannel of his shirt, she might sense something strange — a cool, smooth texture unlike the usual bony ridges of his spine. three small, evenly spaced divots roughly the size of a fingernail mark each interval, running the length of his back. )
no subject
as her fingers roam his back through the faded flannel of his shirt, she might sense something strange — a cool, smooth texture unlike the usual bony ridges of his spine. three small, evenly spaced divots roughly the size of a fingernail mark each interval, running the length of his back. )
Now, help me get out of this shirt.