cezara.

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I ran my palms up and down my thighs, lingering on familiar ridges high up. The siren’s call now rang in my blood. My dark craving was a strong opponent, my greatest foe, but also balm and friend in my hardest hours. He made the unbearable bearable, if only for a few hours.
Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)
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