There was an old saying, “better to be safe than sorry.” Whoever coined it had obviously never spent a week with William McGoven.
The man was anything but safe—and Loren found a strange peace in his wild nature. As far as the men in her life were concerned, he was a welcome anomaly. Violent and brutish, Fred Connors, her supposed father, had been ruthlessly predictable.
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No one survives the mine... once he decides you're his. I didn't fall into darkness- I was dragged into it. Into him. Cold. Ruthless. Addictive. The kind of man who doesn't ask... he takes. His touch burns. His gaze owns. And every second near him feels like a sin I don't want to escape. I should hate him. I should run. But the deeper he pulls me in... the more I crave the danger. 🖤 He doesn't love-he possesses. 🖤 He doesn't touch-he claims. And I'm already his. 🔞🔞 🔞
There are six guys along with Ant, taking places around the mattress as they get their cocks out in their hands. My champagne vision is a bit hazy, and there is such a selection of them. One guy is gruff and big and brutal looking. Then there's a short blond guy with tattoos right the way up his arms. There's a huge, beefy guy with so much dark hair over his chest that it looks like a carpet, and a tall skinny guy in glasses who looks like a college professor. One guy who's greyer than Ant, and at least ten years older, and another guy who could be from a country magazine cover, he's so damn posh looking. Six dicks in six guys' hands. All for me to take however they want to give them.🔞🔞🔞
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