<div class="floatleft">(https://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/newpix/2018/06/03/16/4CE02AF000000578-5800619-Baby_on_board_Cheyenne_will_have_an_exciting_announcement_in_the-a-48_1528038386128.jpg)</div>Coarse, with a hint of malice, just about skirting the edge of disdain, amid an air of effortlessly constructed nonchalance. "Oh, you are good." I muse to myself, but my voice does float over across the table, dipped with approval so thick it seems to be hanging off each syllable, like rich chocolate sauce on an all too tiny spoon.<br/><br/>This show (of exquisite force) is far from over and it keeps drawing me in. Even the most acclaimed thrillers that Hollywood has to offer do not hold my attention as well as you do right now, tempting me with everything from sheer presence to clever flashes. My mind breaks free of the temperance field I always place upon it; a necessary measure to ensure I remain top dog. And when you offer me a peek between your legs, it yells, "Holy fucking hell! Eat your heart out, Sharon Stone!" I really do hope reading other people's thoughts doesn't form a part of your immense skill set.<br/><br/>"As good as Kayden promised."<br/><br/>It is time for the reveal.<br/><br/>I step off my own perch, just in time to see you indulge in my whiskey in a way that makes my eyes narrow and lips tilt. "It is true. She declined my offer, but not 'cause she wasn't interested." I've bulldozed the distance between us, so much that the heat from my body melds with yours, making this little pocket of the garden far too dangerous for simple mortals. Perhaps that's why they're keeping a distance; the women staring wistfully and the men barely hiding their jealousy. "She knew there was someone far more suited to be the life and soul of Fontana films."<br/><br/>My hand drifts down the line of yours, feigning to touch but instead going for some of the treats on the table, predictably the ones doused in chocolate. "You."<br/><br/>I turn you around, a hand climbing up to wrap around your neck, the other drifts down to usurp the drink and place it back on the table before the cutlery breaks. My voice dips to levels appropriate for telling the darkest of secrets. "Although, I'd rather that bit of information doesn't end up even the slightest bit mollifying. I want your fire, Dani. I want to unleash you on this world in a way even you never dared think possible." My neck tilts to the side, meaning everything I say is upon breath that lashes against your ear.<br/><br/>"Tell me, have you had occasion to angry fuck someone so hard that you've broken multiple articles of furniture? Only asking 'cause I'm in need of a new bed and an excuse to send back the old one"