Every touch ignited fire along her skin. Touch starved and made more bold by liquor, Vai drank in everything; the heat of his body, the taste of whiskey on his tongue, the salty sweet smell of the ocean. It was a good thing that the suggestion of the trees nearby came when it did, because otherwise she might well have been the one throwing Zeph to the sand. ”And if I can’t?” she murmured against the shell of his ear, a wicked sort of laugh bubbling up in her throat. ”Hold on tight.” vervain well i'll rest my eyes and i'll let the earth breathe |
that doesn’t mean what you think it means
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