Caroline Holt

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Only when she was thrashin’, a wild thing in my arms seekin’ more, did I drop carefully to my knees and lay her back on the drop-clothed floor, her hips still hooked over my lap. Arranged like that, black hair like the halo of a dark angel around her delicate face, I felt my heart come to a complete fuckin’ stop.
Caution to the Wind (The Fallen Men, #7)
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