Breed Me Dirty {Open wide. Take it raw. Beg for more}
Genevieve said, her voice sharp as she paced the small space, her expensive silk skirts swishing with every turn.
“And my favorite blue dress has a tear in the hem,” Alice added, leaning against a shelf and looking bored. “And I want fresh milk. Go down to the barn and get it yourself, Isolde. I want it cold, not the warm leftovers from this morning.”
My head was spinning. “The boots… and the dress? Do you want the milk before or after I—”
“Oh, she’s gone completely stupid from staring at these old pages,” Alice laughed, tossing her head back. “Is it too hard for your bastard brain to remember? Maybe we should write it down for you, though I doubt you can even read properly.”
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