jen

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“Sorry, love. I just don’t feel like sharing you right now.” If I wasn’t so drunk off my orgasm, I might have noticed sooner how loud his heart was beating. How his eyes flashed from the normal blue to a deadly looking red. “No one is going to take you from me,” he declared in a voice so feral it was almost unhinged.
That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion at a Werewolf (Mead Mishaps, #2)
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