Let me feed you,” he whispered, his tone suddenly husky.
He sounded like sex. Or at least, what Julia imagined sex would sound like if it was sitting on a white banquette with shining blue eyes and an arrogant jaw, trying to press a cold glass up to her mouth.
Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh…my…Gabriel.

Autor: Sylvain Reynard

Let me feed you,” he whispered, his tone suddenly husky.<br />He sounded like sex. Or at least, what Julia imagined sex would sound like if it was sitting on a white banquette with shining blue eyes and an arrogant jaw, trying to press a cold glass up to her mouth.<br />Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh…my…Gabriel. - Sylvain Reynard

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