I’ve gotten entirely too good at pretending it doesn’t hurt.
he has such a nice jawline and hair and eyes and arms and hands and back and lips and cheekbones stop that
"I want to see you breathless," he tells her, "I want you on the floor, against the wall, in various shades of desperation."
"And I want you raw and open, before you learnt what it was to build walls."
"Show me the parts of you you daren’t show anyone." He whispers. "Show me everything."