#got'

He is a modern day Mozart and Bethoven if I have ever seen one. 

Shae is sitting in the treeline near the officer's tents. Bronn gets a curious stir in his chest as opposed to his groin as he watches her sit off on her own, away from the girls who are doing their usual come hither beckoning. He sits next to her and can see her shift nervously. He's never silent. But he can't put his finger on what it is about her. She can feel it too, the charge, like walking on a rug in woolen stockings, but she doesn't know what to make of it. He's not a particularly attractive man. She's had those. She knows that they only bring a melancholy emptiness. But there's something in his eyes, in his cocky little grin. He's waiting for her to speak first. She knows it. But that's not how this goes. Men tell her what they want. She won't ask. If you don't know, it's not worth giving. A ginger-haired, strapping young knight comes over, whispers something in her ear. She gives him a coy smile. He helps her off the ground and she moves with him. She turns back to look at the Bronn, still sitting silently against the tree, watching her appraisingly. "You're just going to let him take me out from under you?" she asks, daring Bronn to make his move. She's had plenty of these young boys, but she'd rather have a man. On the inside of his bicep, Bronn can feel his marking burning and tingling. So that's what it is. Huh. It's been ages since he'd even thought about those words. He'd given up after ten years or so. He'd never expected to be in his late forties and meet her. She scoffs indignantly and continues walking toward the young knight's tent. They get a yard or so away. He rushes to her side and looks to the freckle-faced boy. "I don't share, lad." Offended, the knight draws his sword. Shae turns to him and says "Go find a good little girl. I'd be too much for you anyway." He's insulted, but fairly chivalrous about it. He can sense something bigger at play and goes back to find someone else. "The only reason you'll be getting out from under me tonight is so's you can get on top." Shae's expression doesn't change. She can feel the words on her ribs, just under her left breast, come to life. That explains a lot. They banter on their way back to his tent, sharing some more dirty words. There's no "Oh, it's you." There's no passionate embrace. There's no sweeping her off her feet. They've both had too much life behind them for that. Still, when they make it somewhere private, they both wordlessly strip. He thumbs over the curve of her breast and smiles. She kisses his toned sword arm. That's all the acknowledgment they need. Frilly, lovey prattle be damned. She's his. He's hers. That's all.

Hardwell & MAKJ -Countdown ( D'viazzo Remix) by D'viazzoR http://ift.tt/1pwWBqW

Porn.