Mia Oliv.W

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“Give me what you’d give any submissive, Mark.” I met his eyes again. “Sir, I mean.” “But you’re not any submissive,” he said, leaning close to murmur in my ear. “You’re going to be my wife.” The way he said wife sent a hot, electric thrill racing down my spine. He said it like it was a personal fantasy of his—the filthiest pleasure he could imagine.
Salt in the Wound (Lyonesse)
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