Leandra Parsons

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Finally, Savio let me pull him down and his lips pressed against mine. I sunk into his taste, his warmth. I yearned for him, all of him. His strength and scent were intoxicating. His tongue teased, stroked, caressed. His hands kept me steady, brushed over my back, then cupped my cheeks, deepening the kiss further.
Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles, #5)
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