Deb Conover

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“Look how well we fit,” he whispers as his hand comes around my neck. “Deep breath, Ravi.” I grab the edge of the desk and inhale, and Alessandro slides inside. His cock fills me, stretching me almost to the point where I can’t take it anymore. My moans morph into screams of ecstasy when he starts slowly rocking his hips.
Burned Dreams (Perfectly Imperfect, #7)
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