natalie clarice

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“Try leaning back,” he suggests, his voice tight. I do as he says, leaning back, using my hands on his legs to steady myself, and the moan I let out is low and needy. “There it is.” A strained smile hits his lips like he knows the unreliable jolt of pleasure that cracks through me.
The Fall of Bradley Reed (Seasons of Revenge, #3)
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