Carolina Tanoue

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I shouldn’t think about her tongue tracing the length of my dick, lapping at the crown before repeating the process until I’m leaking for her. I shouldn’t think about the heat of her mouth as she engulfs me, the little noises that slip out of her, the way her chin presses against my full and aching balls. And I definitely shouldn’t think about talking her through it—her choking me down until she can fit every inch inside her perfect mouth, saliva pooling and stringing from the corners of her lips, her hand pumping me at the base with equal enthusiasm—
The Worst Kind of Promise (Riverside Reapers #2)
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