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“Fucking hell, Rory. You’re…” He brushes his thumb against me, and I shudder at the simple touch. “Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, baby.” I am. So, so wet. I should be embarrassed, should be mortified, but I can’t find it in me, especially not when Lawson is looking at me like I’m a trophy he’s been waiting his whole life to win.
Face Off (Seattle Serpents, #2)
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