What the hell am I doing? I’m in no state to drive this fucking car. But more disturbingly, I’m driving to him? Where are those marbles rolling again? They are all over the fucking shop. Whaaat? The ‘rebel one’ stares back at me from the passenger seat, nonchalantly playing with her cobalt hair, throwing her feet on the dashboard. We’re playing it safe, meeting him in public, aren’t we? What can go wrong? Like a hundred m...

Can someone please explain this whole lip-biting craze to me? It seems to be on every page of every book at the moment. And I hate it with a passion, probably because of the stupid Fifty Shades of Awfulness. What does it even represent? Is it meant to be flirting, suppressed lust, dirty thoughts or something else? Does anyone even do it in real life? I know I don’t. Although, I do chew my lips to shreds when being fucked...

His spell on me is broken. I stay still, frozen. I refuse to take instructions from anyone, especially from him. Even under current circumstances. It takes a lot more for this feral feline to be eating out of his hand. He can use me, we have established that, but he will not order me around. Even if he has this black-magic way with words that seep into my mind taking it on a delicious joyride. “Knickers off,” he repeats i...