8
Celia
“But I don’t think I’m going to like having you take me there,” I admitted. “It will surely hurt.”
Luke smiled, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Thank you for telling us how you feel,” he said. They’d said that before, as if they were refreshed by my honesty. He placed his elbow on the mattress and held a small object aloft for me to see. “It would definitely hurt if we f****d your ass now. Our c***s are big and you’re not prepared.”
I frowned at the oddly shaped piece of wood. It looked like a sock darner, but the tip was more pointed, and it was smaller. “Prepared?” Walker had said that word before, but had yet to answer me.
Walker’s hand slid up my back again, then down; it didn’t stop at the base of my spine, but moved lower to cup my bottom. His thumb slip
