“You’re not erasing me,” he rumbles, thumbing my clit faster. Faster. “Not this again,” I moan, but the words don’t hold the punch I intend, his fingers working me so expertly my mind has withered into compost. The sort where bad decisions go to sprout. “I’ll cut you a deal,” he spurs with a flash of his canines. “Fuck your deals.” “No, Raeve. Fuck yours,” he growls, pushing another finger in. Stretching me. “I spent over a hundred phases crushed beneath the weight of your death, wrecking myself, trying to shed the hurt from my heart. Do you know how much easier it would’ve been to simply
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