Hideaway Strath yours are the sweetest eyes i've ever seen

Lotte found that she greatly enjoyed the idea of owning Hemlock; it pleased her to absorb the shiver of that sinuous spine, and it pleased her to know that Hemlock liked her better. Ceannasach had taken a valiant, intelligent warrior to wife, capable of great magnanimity when she pleased — but Lotte could also be quite vain and selfish. As long as Hemlock liked Lotte better than Arturo and Arturo liked Lotte better than Hemlock, the brazen rapscallion could believe that everything would be fine. Hemlock could have Arturo’s children as long as Lotte was the tether that joined them, with a good portion of the control between her teeth.

Lotte disengaged gently and rose to all fours, but it was clear she had no intention of leaving the fireflower so soon. “I want to give you want you want,” she intimated in a throaty undertone. A glimmer of her true nature shone through: she did, without condition or qualm, love Hemlock. She wanted the dryad’s happiness as much as she wanted Arturo’s, though her first loyalty would always be to her black-masked gangster-in-gentleman’s-clothing. “Should your heat come upon you,” she said, not one to beat around the bush, “walk among these wolves without reservation, but allow none to touch you but me — and Arturo.” She nibbled affectionately at the fur lining the base of one brilliantly russet ear.