Mikaela Jade

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One of his hands slides into my hair and he tilts my head back. He parts my lips with his tongue, and a low sound scrapes against his throat and vibrates through my core as he tastes me. His scent of woodsmoke and the mountains floods my nose, and I am burning and drowning in him at the same time. A soft whimper escapes me. “Fuck.” His voice is rough and raw against my lips.
The Wolf King (Wolf King, #1)
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