Leandra Parsons

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She pulls me closer by the collar of my shirt, sighing against my mouth like she’s been waiting ages to do this. Because I have, I cradle her face with both of my hands gently, so at odds with the way we’re devouring each other. Mine, mine, mine. When we pull away, breathless, I’m the one who hoists her up until her legs are wrapped around my middle.
The Deepest End of Love (The Brightest Light #3)
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