Desiree

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“Christian—” I groaned as he edged me again, closer to the precipice this time. “That’s right. My fingers in your cunt. My name on your lips. He doesn’t get this body anymore. Not his ring on your finger, not a fucking inkling of him in your mind. I’m going to replace every thought of him. Mark my words, princess.”
Dust Storm (The Griffith Brothers, #1)
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