Leandra Parsons

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My other hand rests on her waist as she holds my face, deepening the kiss neither of us should’ve started. “Reed,” she whimpers, pulling away. The sight of her red, puffy lips makes me want to kiss her again, repeatedly, until I run out of air. “We should stop.” My breaths are labored. “All right.” A beat passes, and her lips are on mine again.
The Deepest End of Love (The Brightest Light #3)
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