Pippa Brannan

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You’re so wet for me, Dewdrop,” he growls against my breast, his head lifting to meet my eyes. His fingers pump into me, hitting my g-spot until stars dance across my vision, his circling thumb driving me into delirium. “So damn responsive. Fuck.” When he catches my nipple in his mouth and tugs it with his teeth, I shatter into a million pieces. 
Any Means Necessary
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