Recommended By Angela
Recommended By Angela
Once again Yolanda delivers the type of twisted horror that I've come to love and look forward to. Seeing Troy Cahill again was like bumping into an old friend. If that old friend is a delusional psychopath who collects girls like dolls 🤦♀️ Poor Daisy has no idea what she is in for but finds out very quickly just how crazy he is. The characters Yolanda creates are always so uniquely done and the emotional hell she describes is enough to make you get up and check to make sure that your doors are locked. The "sexual" moments definitely swim in the creepy side of the "erotic" pool but lets be real, you do not read Yolanda for the feel good romance moments. Very intrigued to see if Troy's "garden of flowers" continues to grow.
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The soft fabric of her dress brushed against my arms, and it made me smile a little wider. All of my flowers eventually wore a dress like the one she did because I wanted them to look as beautiful as I knew they were. One of the small kindnesses I could afford them, and I took great pride in matching them with a dress that I knew would show off their individual beauty.
I used my fingers to spread her pussy lips apart, then slid one deep inside of her. She grunted slightly at the feeling of pressure. In a response to her reaction, I pushed in a little deeper.
"Doing okay?" I asked her as I slid another finger into her core, and she let out a hiss. I took it as a sign to continue, so I did. I wanted to be able to slide my fingers all the way inside of her before I started to play with her clit because I wanted to give her an idea of what life could be like here with me.
She had given me something she could have given someone else, and now that I've dipped my fingers inside of her nectar, the flower belonged to me.
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From The Publisher
I hadn't been to the corral in three years.
Not since Posy.
Not since I gave her the choice to stay or go.
I guess I didn't want to feel the way I did when I first saw her. I didn't want to relive memories with someone else that I knew would never be able to fill her shoes.
But sometimes, demons never manage to stay buried, and the call of the corral can be too strong.
Especially for a man like me.
The only way to get something right is to try again, and this time, I have to get it right.