Leandra Parsons

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licked her harder and faster, diving in deeply with every stroke. She began to quiver and gasp, her body becoming tight as a bowstring a moment before she cried out. Her hips rocked desperately in my hold and I smirked against her heated flesh. She tried to lower her legs when she stopped shaking, but I held on. “Oh no, Gem. Hold still, now let me have my reward. This is the best part,”
Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles, #5)
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