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“Because when my hands are wrapped around your throat, I’m the one you’ll be praying to.”
You’re going take it and thank me for every fucking inch.”
“So, no, Cortez, I don’t want to touch you—I want to fuck you, own you, ruin you.”
He carries me to the kitchen island and doesn’t waste a second before reaching up my dress to pull down my panties. “I need to be inside you,” he says, out of breath and hurried.
“I need you. Fuck, I need you,” he repeats, like a man in worship.
