Elizabeth Morgan

At that moment, I make my decision.
I’m going to keep her.
I’m going to keep this woman.
Fuck her matching me up.

Cassie: I don’t need you to buy me shoes, Mr. Dawson.
Luke: Be careful with what you call me, sweetheart. I might want to hear you say it again in a much more comfortable setting.

“This greedy cunt.” He growls the words as he watches himself disappear into me, each pump hitting that spot inside me no one has ever found, each graze taking my breath away and making it build again. “Is your cunt greedy for my cock, Cass?” He’s gone, lost in the feeling of us too, and it’s like he knows how perfect this is, and it has him absolutely wild.
“Yes, honey, yes.”
“God, I’ve been fuckin’ dreamin’ of this since I saw you. Better than I ever fuckin’ thought; your pussy is so fuckin’ tight.”

“Jesus, fuck, you’re fucking dripping for me. This mine, Cass? This cunt mine?” His eyes are dark with need and possession. I nod, then, with a groan, he slams into me, filling me completely.

“You might know red flags, but I know green ones. And this man is a fuckin’ leprechaun.”

Dating services for relationships exist everywhere, but what women really need is a dating service for friends.

Jesus, this woman. All curves, all soft. All fucking mine.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet, Cassie. Be good and lie here while your man eats you.”

And for Alex. Thanks for supporting my love of writing filth

Sir, you are nearly naked and in my business.”