“I had a kind of dirty dream about you. Do you want to hear about it?” You laugh, and fuck, that sound twists itself inside my chest like a fist. I want to make you laugh more. Your voice drops, somewhere between a whisper and a quake. “It started with me kissing you.”

“You are so so soft and just achingly warm and good and I’m just dying with the urge to pin and grind and tease and make you even wetter for me, taste you in your bed.”

“Something about our conversations just makes me want to take off my underwear. And by ‘something’ I mean ‘everything.'”