The Sewist's Bookshelf

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“So you can hear how it’s done?” “So you quit giving me notes on my fake sex noises,” she says, and there’s her pulse under my tongue. I press harder, feeling the thrum. Then I take a deep breath and groan as loud as I can, closing my eyes and trying to channel every porno I’ve ever watched. The sound comes out desperate and raw, a rough low edge to it that I didn’t intend.
The One Month Boyfriend (Wildwood Society, #1)
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