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“Fuck, yes. That’s it,” Whit growls, his body pressed tight and undulating against mine. “Who gets to fuck you, Amelia? Who is it that fucks you so well?” “Y-you!” I whimper as this liquid, hot climax drowns me. I’m aware of nothing else but the soft grunt of his own release against my neck.
The Interview (The Whittingtons, #1)
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