The flithy little secrets

For the girls who pretend they’re here for the plot—but end up with shaking fingers between their thighs at 2 AM, biting their lips to stay quiet. For the ones who ignore the 18+ warning, thinking they can handle it—until they’re breathless, drenched, and gripping the pages like it’s the only thing keeping them sane. For the ones who buy innocent-looking books so their mothers won’t know—but end up fucking themselves to the filth inside. Welcome to the madness, baby. You knew exactly what you were doing when you picked this up.