More artwork from Damian.
Also, he got drunk last night and tried it again, but bluer.
Once again, the relevant passage is after the jump. This is from Chapter 2.
His other hand grabs my bathrobe and I half-drag, half-carry him from his chair, his blanket falling away, and through the breakfast room, dining room, across the main hallway, and into the living room before sitting down on an ottoman. He leans against me, his body draped over mind, our lips still locked together. I pull our mouths apart. He opens his mouth to protest, and I fill it with whipped cream, before setting down the can I had carried with me from the breakfast room. As he closes his mouth to swallow, I tear the bathrobe belt from my waist and throw it over his neck, it’s two ends falling evenly down his chest like an untied tie. “Shh…” I whisper as I get off the ottoman and pin him chest down onto it below me. I pull my bathrobe belt underneath his arms and tie the ends together behind his back, straddling his waist with my naked thighs. I grab his arms and pull them behind his back, cinching them tightly to the bathrobe belt, leaving his arms pinned behind him.
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