Shannon Robinson

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“Perhaps you want me to trace every single inch of your body with my tongue, or for me to taste how wet your pussy is in this moment.” “Zach,” I gasp, embarrassed. “What?” he counters. “Don’t deny it. I can see your legs pressing together. Does it hurt, beautiful girl? Is your cunt soaking wet and begging for me to touch it?”
Where Broken Wings Fly (Briar Valley, #1)
by J. Rose
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