“I told you I’m possessive, but you might not know exactly what that means, so let me explain.” His hand comes up to cage my throat, raw fury in his eyes when he speaks. “You’re mine, Blaine. My guy. I fuckin’ worship you. Every time you talk, you have me on a hook. Every time you do that weird snort-laugh, I want to own you. And every time you feel bad, I want to tear the world down to fix it. Why you think I’m ashamed, I dunno, but you gotta get that thought right out of your head
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