Megan

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I lift my head and bite him where his shoulder meets his neck. He tastes like salt, sun, and citrus. He tastes like he smells. My tongue apparently has a mind of its own because it snakes over his skin, tasting more. He stops breathing. He doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t even move. What in the name of Zeus am I doing?
A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)
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