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Summary
“I should hope you feel like a spoiled Wriothesley and not a spoiled cat,” Neuvillette teases, those claws continuing those delightful scratches to Wriothesley’s scalp. “You are my kept lover, not my kept pet!”
Wriothesley merely grins. “Kept for eternity.”
“For eternity,” Neuvillette agrees, voice wistful, longing, and possessive in spades.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
My piece for the Etriente Gelee Zine!
Series
- Part 2 of Death Could Not Part Us
